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!

pronounced ti-tee-zas. what can i say chamorro month has put me on a nostalgic chamorro-foodkick.  i went to a friend's house for a birthday party and then impulsively bought corn flour at the grocery store.  this led me to this week's adventures in tityas.

there are droves of versions out there and this week i took the liberty of experimenting with titiyas, the guam version of tortillas.  they are not quite a tortilla but more of thin flat bread.  the plain version is traditionally made with all purpose flour and coconut mlik.  there is also a sweeter variation traditionally made with fresh shreds of young coconut.  a friend had tipped me into using actual tortilla flour (specifically, the white flour version called harina preparada) but this week i also explored a gluten-free option by using corn flour, or masa harina, found in the hispanic food aisle. both are available at walmart.  a tortilla press would make the job easier but i found that forming balls of dough and then flattening with a rolling pin between two sheets of parchment paper to be just as effective.  this could also create a larger size, rather than the size of an 8" tortilla press.  titiyas are delectable lathered with butter but are most often served with the ever-popular chicken kelaguen, a recipe fit for it's own entry.

recipe:
2 1/2 cups flour of your choice
1 cup cream of coconut (trader joe's has an excellent canned product)

for manha titiyas, add
2 tablespoons coconut strings (macapuno, from a can)

1. Combine ingredients to form a firm dough
2. Press to preferred size until as thick as pancake
3. Heat generous amount of butter on a flat pan or gridle pan over medium high heat
4. When the flattened dough is ready, dust with flour before putting on the heated pan
5. Glide the titiya around the pan until it absorbs the butter
6. Leave unturned until browning bubbles form
7. Turnover to cook the other side

i really did not feel a need to add sugar or milk as many other recipes have suggested.  the gluten-free option was my preferred choice because it provided the best balanced flavor.  when i was working a summer job at 16, my chamorro coworkers would bring spam kelaguen and corned beef simmered in onions as a comfort-food snack.  this always reminds me of that.

there is not flat bread equivalent in filipino food that i can think of.  we were instead raised on pan de sal as our poor man's bread.  titiyas are the easiest staple to make and the added ingredient of cream of coconut gives it the perfect richness.