this is one of the only uniquely Chamoru dishes that i didn’t experience with a Filipino
equivalent.  we have a dish called giniling, which is ground beef with vegetables. it did not have the richness of coconut milk or the acidity of lemon. and these two touches make tintaktak truly enticing and fun to say.  the first time i fell in love with tinaktak or at least this version was over a casual dinner invite at a friend’s apartment in maite. i had just moved home after living in California for 10 years. how have i gone all my life not having magical tinaktak?  but there is something i’ve adapted over the years which i’ve stayed loyal to: using ground turkey instead of ground beef.  the ground turkey is much leaner and doesn’t interfere with the build of flavors like ground beef does.  it was once shared with me that the name of the dish is from the “tak tak tak tak” sound of pounding beef into minced pieces for making the dish.  on that note, my mind was blown away when a friend’s auntie served shrimp and octopus tinaktak. i have not since then recreated it for myself but think of it all the time.

1 lb ground turkey
purple onion (i prefer to use this for color!)
1/2 teas fish sauce (because I’m Filipino)
Cherry tomatoes, sliced in halves
Long beans, cut into 1” pieces (best when cut small to enjoy the bite-sized spoonfulls)
1 can coconut milk
Juice of 1 lemon
sliced green onions for garnish

sauté onions until softened. add ground turkey and salt /pepper and keep covered until browned. add green beans and cover until softened. add coconut milk, cherry tomatoes, and lemon. cook uncovered for 5-8 minutes. Garnish with green onions and serve immediately with hot rice and a side of finadene.

Easter has come and gone and i did not seize the opportunity  to make another one of my dad’s signature creations.  i have never seen pancit prepared the way my dad concocted a way for our Easter eggs to magically transform into this perfect blend of dad, celebration, and innovation.

the best part is how the pancit rendered rainbow-like when the partially-stained egg whites would mix with the noodles.  there is nothing filipino about the ingredients in this pancit and that’s what makes it so genius.  he used to call it “pancit lug-log”, which refers to the use of egg yolks and egg noodles but this version is far from what would be considered pancit or lug-log.

1lb cooked and cooled spaghetti noodles (not chilled, but freshly-cooked!)
1/2 lb freshly-cooker crumbled bacon
1 doz diced hard boiled eggs
Shallots and garlic sautéed in oil to your liking
Fish sauce, salt, and pepper to your liking
1/4 c sliced green onions for garnish

Directions:
Toss all ingredients and save the seasonings and garnish for last. It’s like a salad-pancit-eggy-bacony-garlicky taste of the town my dad grew up in -
General Trias, Cavite.  It is also known as “malabon” and has become a food destination for pancit aficionados, especially “Pancit Malabon”.

I was traveling in Tulum, Mexico last year when I read of his passing. I became stricken with sadness and recorded what came to mind.

He let me dream a little, when I was inspired to write about a fictitious layover if he were to ever stop in Guam. I hope in heaven he gets to enjoy that fiesta plate. By watching, reading, observing Bourdain, I learned many things:

Food is a lesson and a story, and there are souls behind the meals we are gifted with

That a journey to even the desolate could be transformed by the food we eat.

That there is a deep story behind every cook: why they prepared the meal, where the ingredients came from, how they learned to cook, why they chose this profession, what inspires a cook to create or what motivates one to cook. The story doesn’t end when the cooking is done but long after the food is eaten there are conversations and experiences that we carry with us.

That you don’t have to be a chef to cook. And that what makes a cook is not just the act of cooking.

That we wanted to follow his footsteps where we travelled and obsessed over his reflections. That there is reward in the footsteps of a foodie.

I ugly-cried during the Philippines episode of parts unknown, drawing pride in the inherently-Filipino tendency to nurture those that are not our own, love even when we work tirelessly, and bond over food that doesn’t look presentable by industry standards. And that jolibee is badass.

And most of all,  his reflections helped me recognize in my dad that his ability to build unique flavors and labor over our family meals for all our lives inspired each of my sisters and me to not only love food but to want to constantly recreate it. It is how I came to thrive in adulthood, nurture my relationships, bond with my sisters, and stay inspired as a creative mind and entrepreneur.  My dad is neither chef or a cook by profession but his ability to do such things show who he is and we are who we are because of his skills in the kitchen.  This is an intangible role separate from father, husband, or provider and now I seek these same qualities in any potential life partner.

beef steak, my all-time favorite dish prepared by my dad. The traditional Chamorro bistek as i've observed is simmered in vinegar, achote, and peas. Filipino bistek is just calamansi, soy sauce, onions, and garlic. There are no veggies. Similar to adobo, there a myriad of ways to prepare it, depending on the cut of meat and the method of marination. this is the way my dad taught me and i refuse to have it any other way. Though the Chamorro version has a beautiful color and thickness, the flavor profile is also acidic.

Filipino bistek:

Marinate sliced beef (preferably skirt or flank) in soy sauce and calamansi juice for at least thirty minutes. While marinating, pan-fry garlic and sliced white onion rings to your liking. When transparent (but still firm), remove half the onions to reserve for serving.  Brown the marinated beef in the heated oil and garlic at med-high heat. Once browned on both sides, pour the remaining marination and simmer.  Return the onions before serving.

Chamorro bistek:

Season thin sliced beef (chuck or stewing meat) with salt and pepper.  Sautéed onions until transparent.  Toss beef with onions.  Add enough water and 4tbsp vinegar with enough liquid to cover the meat. Cover until tenderized. Add frozen peas and achote powder. Simmer until thickened. 

some of the food on this island has been disappointing and I thought I'd write about it. while my intent has always been to highlight how my Filipino-Guamanian influence has inspired my cooking, lately I've been compelled to document some of the lack of quality and care I've experienced since moving back home. I never like to be the whiny non-local....I'd like to tell you I'll be that brutally-honest voice who has just recently moved back.

it seems utterly silly that i would have an entry dedicated to spam - the only canned meat product that can spark so much familiarity, disgust, and comfort in one thought.  it's true - i once participated, competed, and won an actual spam competition where i presented both a salad and chocolate-infused version of the staple.  

today I'll share my favorite way of preparing spam that might be shockingly simple and alarming at the same time.  It requires one ingredient - sugar. 

Method:

1. Prior to frying, roll both sides of a 1/16" slice of spam over sugar.

2. Fry over medium heat and serve over hot rice with sliced scallions.

This is the way a friend's "Lola" prepared it when I was growing up. I was not fortunate enough to have either of my grandmothers raise me for a long enough period.  I ended up leeching off the hospitality of my bff's grandmas and this is the way she prepared it.  I never realized how different it was until I realized how uncommon it was. 

I know, it's April. But this version of tinola is so comforting and rich, it can be served all year long.  

my wintery version is truly an "influence" recipe.  tinola is traditionally chicken and papaya simmered in a broth of pepper leaves and ginger.  in Guam, i often would hear the word kadu often thrown around and when someone assured me that i would not be able to resist chicken kadu, i had to indulge although i never heard of it.  i immediately thought it was a watered down version of tinola.  then others continued to educate me on the many nuances of kadu in chamorro cuisine.  while many versions exist, there is not just one way to make kadu. it seems to be the quintessential comfort food of choice for chamorros: that memory of their nana simmering a heaping bowl of meat and veggies in a clear broth.  i ultimately deduced that filipinos' familiar nilaga, pesa, and tinola were equivalent to the spectrum of kadu that could be prepared. 

and most especially on a "cold" rainy day back home, kadu was was the cowbell to get everyone to the table.  

so there you have it - this version has kernels of sweet corn and coconut milk added to the broth to give it a very earthy richness.

ingredrients:

minced garlic, onion, ginger

Fish sauce

bone-in chicken of your choice 

chayote

Spinach

Corn

Coconut milk

1. Sautée garlic, onion, ginger in fish sauce until transparent.

2. Add chicken until browned.

3. Pour enough water to cover the meat.

4. Add chayote and cook while covered until the chicken is cooked through.

5.skim the fat from the broth and add 1 can of coconut milk and the spinach and corn (it's ok to use frozen spinach and corn)

6. Bring to boil uncovered until aeromatic.

Absolutely enjoyable with tons of rice!