Love Unmasked
by Maitet Ledesma
Oh yes, it shamelessly lingers on for days! In everything the smell touches. Upstairs start to panic when the smell of pounded body parts of miniscule crustaceans being sautéed in the magic trio of garlic, onions and tomatoes insidiously escapes stove vents and wafts everywhere upturned nostrils hold their breaths and race to shut windows.
But hey, my stomach would be doing somersault tucks at the sight of cheese turned blue with fungus, smelling, tasting and looking rotten! According to my native tongue, my crustaceans definitely add value to everything cooked with coconut milk, in soup broths or as a pungent, savoury and bold dip for steamed okra or choi sam not meant for the faint hearted. It adds body and flavor, depth and character to my dishes. It’s the secret ingredient nobody can quite put their finger on. This has been corroborated by none other than those with a different palate who have savored my Filipino kitchen on many festive occasions.
On the other hand, that blue cheese is just its own taste of pure fungal rot grating and clinging to the back of your throat, refusing to be downed by anything non-alcoholic! It adds nothing to the blandness of cream crackers except making the taste twice as hard to get rid of from your taste buds because they have violently assaulted your senses.
So I cook my ginamos unapologetic and without fear of the police banging on the front door after complaints received from fainting neighbours talking gibberish over the emergency line. My palate is imprinted with the memory of my lola (grandmother) whacking dough on a floured board until it is pliant and fragile enough to deserve being turned into savory pancit molo (dumpling) wrappers.
And then there is steamed morning glory that can only be lathered with crustaceans salted to perfection and pounded to a paste, then sautéed dancing to the sauce of the magical trio. Next, a pinch of sugar to lace the palate before a splash of virgin coconut vinegar provides the perfect taste symmetry and balance. With that first mouthful of apan-apan, love is unmasked in its most primordial – the taste, the smell, the texture, the essence that has become ingrained in living memories of island peoples in colourful vintas of the Sama-Bajau, Tausug and Yakan tribes, diving for the miniscule treasures of the deep blue.
And so, with the next offer of blue cheese on crackers, when it is safe enough to mingle to the tingle of wineglasses with upstairs or next door, I can instead opt to catch up on the weather and hurriedly grab a handful of peanuts floating by on a tray while I catch the hostess sneak towards the window at the whiff of olfactory mischief coming from downstairs. With great anticipation, I hide a smile at the familiar bouquet.
