Ferrero and Fraud

This is one tough case to crack: Ferrero accused in hazelnut fraud.  Ferrero SpA is the company that makes Ferrero Rocher, Nutella, and tic tacs.  In a nutshell, if the banks' lawyers are to be believed, it is a 22.8-million-euro shell game perpetrated by Turkish hazelnut companies with Ferrero's consent.  Ferrero denies the charge, saying it had nothing to gain from the Turkish companies' actions.  And this, of course, results in a big, er, Nutella-load of lawsuits and legal fees.

Hong Kong, Day 2: Stinky Tofu

It's our second day in Hong Kong (see previous posts here and here) and our feet are killing us.  Started the day with some breakfast at a Honk Kong-style pastry shop then went up to The Peak, followed by some brief shopping at Causeway Bay, a long walk along Nathan Road, and a lot of shopping at Ladies' Market (see my Dear's post here).

We've had a lot of good meals here at the Fragrant Harbour and hopefully I'll get to writing about them soon, but as the title suggests this post is about my experience with stinky tofu.  I've heard a lot about this delicacy from travel show hosts, particularly Andrew Zimmern, Anthony Bourdain, and Janet Hsieh.  It's reputed to be one of the world's more adventurous foods, often placed in the same level of funkiness with balut and century egg. Now, I like balut and century egg, so I thought stinky tofu shouldn't be that bad.

So there I saw stinky tofu on one of the street stalls around the Ladies' Market, deep fried and sitting on a strainer-- two large, greasy pieces skewered on bamboo satay sticks cost HKD 15.00.  It was crisp and golden brown, not unlike the other deep-fried tofus we get at Chinese restaurants or at home.  It did start reeking its fermented smell at that point, but it's still ok.  Nothing horrid. Yet.

The real assault starts on the first bite-- it has the same texture as other fried tofu, but with the taste of what I think would be the taste of thick cotton socks used for one week straight on a trek through a humid jungle then left in a cupboard with raw fish for a month.  No, I have to correct myself-- the stinky tofu was worse than that.  

Being true to Zimmern's philosophy I finished one piece, which was all I could take.  I just had to throw away the other one, and if you know me you'll know that's something I do not do with a light heart.  The worst part was the aftertaste-- it stays with you in your stomach for a long time and, several hours and more than a few drinks and dishes after, I can still taste it especially when I have a burp.

So, yes, my adventurous tastebuds have met their match.  I wouldn't want to have to eat (or smell) stinky tofu again, but I have to say I'm glad I tried it.  At least I can relate with Zimmern, Bourdain, or Hsieh when they say how disgusting it is.  Being a foodie isn't all about gourmet dishes and haute cuisines.  Sometimes, well, stinky tofu happens.

Ethiopian Pork We't

My version of we't (also written as wot or wat), the classic Ethiopian stew.  My Dear and I first tried this dish at Ziggurat, which was more authentic and made of chicken (doro we't).  According to this article, Ethiopians don't eat pork, so there's my first departure from tradition.  Second, this dish should be made with spiced clarified butter (niter kibbeh) and garnished with hard-boiled eggs.  What makes this pork dish we't-style, however, is the cooking method for the onions and the use of berbere spices.

Ingredients:

1/2 kilo pork, cubed (menudo cut is best, but I used adobo cut)

2 medium onions, finely chopped

1/3 cup vegetable oil (avoid olive oil as it has a strong flavour)

approx. 1/8 cup berbere spices*, depending on taste

3 medium potatoes, cubed

3 eggplants, cubed

1 lemon

2 cups water

1.  Prior to cooking, marinate the pork in lemon juice.

2.  Cook the onions in an ungreased stew pot until their are dark brown and mostly dry, stirring often to avoid burning.  Remove the pot from the fire from time to time if the heat gets out of hand.  This process, which caramelises the onions that will form the base of the sauce, is an essential step in making we't.

3.  Pour in the cooking oil and berbere spices and mix well.  Chuck in the pork and potatoes and fry until pork changes colour.  

4.  Pour in the water, bring to a boil, then lower the heat and leave to simmer.  Braise the pork for about an hour until most of the liquid has reduced.

5.  When the water has mostly evaporated put in the eggplants and continue cooking until they are done. 

For a more traditional we't: (1) use chicken or lamb instead of pork, (2) replace the oil with butter, and (3) put some whole hardboiled eggs during the last 5 to 10 minutes of cooking.  This should be served with some injera bread, but pita bread will do.  Since we already broke more than a few traditions, we ate our we't with steamed rice.

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* You can make your own berbere spice mix with cayenne pepper (or any chilli powder), paprika, black pepper, ginger powder, and ground coriander.  The cayenne pepper and paprika should make up most of the spice mix, then add the other spices according to taste.

Doenjang Jjigae (된장찌개)

Made this dish for my Dear a few weeks ago to help cure her colds.  Basically a spicy vegetable stew (jjigae) made with fermented bean paste, or doenjang.  Like most stews, proportions depend mostly on taste, so I'm not bothering with measurements.  Just throw everything into a pot, boil, taste, and adjust as you go along.

Ingredients:

doenjang*

kimchi**

firm tofu, cubed

cauliflower, chopped

water

1.  Put everything into a pot and bring to a boil; cook until cauliflow achieves desired texture.  Taste from time to time and adjust flavours.  

2.  That's it.

Serve piping hot, ideally in a heated ceramic bowl like here.  Cook with some pork belly chunks or bone for a richer soup. 

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* I got 1/2 kilo of good doenjang from Gourdo's for P80.

** Although kimchi jjigae also exists, my Korean colleague tells me they don't make a jjigae with both doenjang and kimchi as flavour bases.  To be more authentic, replace the kimchi with chilli flakes.

Jamaican Jerk Porkchops

"Jerk" does not refer to the one cooking but to the jerk spice mix from Jamaica.  "Jerk" in this case comes from the Quechua charqui, which means dried meat and is the origin of the word "jerky", that staple of, er, people who can probably relate to Larry the Cable Guy.  Jerk spices, whose main ingredients are ground allspice and chilli powder, are used to cure dried meat and as a dry rub for barbecues.

Ingredients:

pork chops, butterfly cut

Jamaican jerk spice mix*

red bell peppers

soy sauce (optional)

Worcestershire sauce (optional)

vegetable oil (optional)

1.  Rub the spice mix on both sides of the pork chops.  For more flavour, marinate the meat in some soy sauce and Worcestershire sauce before rubbing in the spice mix.

2.  Slice the bell peppers and lay them on the pork chop so they cover half of the area; fold over the pork chop (hence, the use of the butterfly cut).  You will have some pork chop "sandwiches" with bell pepper and spices in the middle.

3.  Grill until well done; better to use a contact grill so that you will blacken the pork chop.  For more flavour and added moisture, drizzle some oil on the pork prior to grilling.  Take care not to overcook them, lest they dry out.

Serve with steamed rice and a side of salad.

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* Most important elements are equal parts allspice and chilli powder (e.g., cayenne pepper).  You may also add other dried herbs and spices such as black pepper, paprika, thyme, garlic, onion, ginger, or cinnamon.

Estofado de San Miguel

Spanish-style pork stew with chorizos, potatoes, and three kinds of chiles (bell peppers, dried arbol chiles, and paprika), cooked in San Miguel beer.  I just made this up, but I'm sure there's a traditional recipe just like this somewhere in Spain.  Gave me a chance to use one of the Tefal stew pots we got for our wedding (thanks, Law friends).

Ingredients:

1/2 kilo pork, cubed (adobo cut)

2 long links Spanish chorizos (raw, not dried), sliced into chunks

1/3 kilo potatoes, cubed

3-5 bell peppers (depending on size), chopped

1 bottle San Miguel beer

1 garlic, chopped

1 onion, chopped

3-5 dried chile pods (dried chile flakes could also be used)

1/2 cup vinegar

1/4 cup canola or olive oil

coarsely ground black peppercorns

paprika

fennel seeds

laurel leaves

1.  Heat up the cooking oil in a stew pot and fry the dried chiles, ground peppercorns, laurel leaves, and fennel seeds until you start to smell them.  Add garlic and onion until they start to brown.

2.  Add chorizos; this will cool down the pot so wait for the temperature to go back up.  Fry chorizos until lightly cooked and oil turns red; add bell peppers.  If you have time, it would be good to roast then peel the bell peppers prior to cooking.

3.  Add pork and cook until lightly brown or at least until the pork loses its raw colour.

4.  Add potatoes and paprika.  Bring the pot temperature back up and make sure potatoes are well coated with oil.

5.  Pour in vinegar and beer, making sure there is enough liquid to cover the pork, etc.  Quickly bring pot to a boil then bring it down to a simmer.  Cover pot.

6.  Let the stew simmer for about an hour or until most of the liquid has reduced and you are left with a reddish sauce.

Serve with steamed rice and some greens.

This dish is very amenable to reheating as the flavours become stronger after time in the ref; best to reheat in a broiler so you get some crusty bits. I learned to make these kinds of dishes during my severely budget-constrained MA days, but back then I'd put a lot more potatoes than pork to extend the number of servings.  After the pork has gone the tasty potatoes and sauce can be turned into an instant Spanish omelette.

Sunday Lunch

Sundays are a great day to stay in and cook, free from the busy hours of weekdays and the errands of Saturdays.  I usually set aside Sundays to make slow-cooking stews that we'll eat the rest of the week, sometimes in different reincarnations.  This Sunday, however, my Dear prepared for us a Filipino-Korean lunch, which, unholy as it sounds, actually worked.  I helped, of course, though it felt new to me to be relegated to prepping in what used to be my own kitchen.

For the Korean part, we had a side dish of sukjunamul (숙주나물), which is basically blanched mung bean sprouts seasoned with minced garlic, sesame oil, ground black pepper, vinegar, and soy sauce.  We put in a tad too much garlic on this one, resulting in a pretty pungent sukjunamul which I liked but my Dear found quite overpowering.

The main course was boiled-then-fried Tuguegarao longganisa, named after the capital city of Cagayan Province.  Compared to the more famous Vigan longganisa, the Tuguegarao longganisa has bigger links, a more yellow colour (thanks to atsuete), and a milder garlic taste.  To serve, they are first boiled in water to fully cook the sausage and render the fat; the links are pricked so they won't burst.  After the water has evaporated you are left with sausage links frying in their own fat, which then browns the longganisas.  

After cooking, we ate the sukjunamul and longganisa with steamed brown rice.  Although both dishes were strongly garlicky, they presented the ingredient differently-- raw and pungent on the sukjunamul while sweet and mild in the longganisa.  The fresh taste of the bean sprouts also complemented the fatty richness of the pork sausage.  For dessert we had some fresh lakatan bananas, all washed down with senna leaf tea.