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Thursday, April 26, 2012

House Specialty: Chicken Ovary Adobo


Adobong Bahay Itlog ng Manok

Cow's tongue and beef tripe? Yes and yes.
Pig's face, intestines and blood? Mm-hmm, uh-huh and yup.
Chicken feet, gizzards and ovaries? Check, check and triple che-- say what?

I am not put off by offal. In fact, some of my favorite meals are made of 'nasty bits': I love lengua (tongue) in tacos and estofado (Sp. 'stew'), while tripe is tops in callos a la Madrileña and Mexican menudo¹. Mr. Noodle and I enjoy dinuguan (pork blood stew) and papaitan (goat bile soup) in all their gamey, slightly spicy, chock-full-of-intestines-and-who-knows-what-else glory. Even the Pupster gets his fair share - whenever there's lechon at a family gathering, my relatives know to set aside the ears and tail just for him.

Poultrywise, Mr. Noodle is particularly fond of chicken gizzards, especially the sweetish, smoky inasal (barbecue) skewers from Salcedo Saturday Market that have supplanted my stir-fried recipe as his current favorite. As for me, I've been known to inhale braised chicken feet doused in tausi (fermented black beans) sauce, heartily feast on grilled hearts and nibble unflinchingly on stewed cockscomb. There's not much from a chicken that I haven't tried... or so I thought.

During a recent Salcedo market run, I spotted several bags of what appeared to be separated egg yolks displayed alongside freshly butchered chickens. When I wondered aloud why anyone would sell sacks of already cracked eggs, my mother's amused look was tinged with dismay at having produced such an ignorant child. "Those are bahay itlog," she clarified. "They're chicken ovaries."



A Sack of Egg Sacs

Literally translated as 'egg house', bahay itlog is the part of a hen's reproductive organs from which a chicken egg starts its development. The orangeish balls in those bags were indeed yolks but at the pre-insemination stage, before the albumen (egg white) and shell form around them just prior to laying. Seeing the visceral strands of pearl-like spheres varying in size from peas to ping pong balls brought to mind fluffy, chirpy chicks that would never be. I recoiled in universal female empathy; sure, I've eaten balut, but this was... different. For the first time, I understood why some guys wince at the thought of eating Rocky Mountain oysters.

However, my curiosity proved stronger than my sense of interspecies sisterhood and repulsion quickly turned into fascination. I had never seen or heard of chicken ovary dishes before, much less tasted them. According to my mother, bahay itlog is considered quite the delicacy. She recalled how they were prepared only on those occasions when the family cook purchased a laying hen² by chance and discovered the egg sac as the old bird was being readied for the pot. As it turns out, what's good for the chicken is good for its ovaries, too - the unlaid eggs were (and still are) commonly added to simmering chicken adobo.

The Multicultural Ovum

Of course, Filipinos are not the only ones who appreciate the tasty qualities of immature ova. A 2007 New York Times article, "What the Egg Was First", described how Dan Barber, executive chef and co-owner of Blue Hill Farm and restaurants in New York and Connecticut, began experimenting with innovative ways to incorporate unlaid eggs into the menu. His recipes were new but their main ingredient was long familiar to staff and colleagues from such varied cultural backgrounds as Dominican, Goan and Alsatian. In the latter two, the not-quite-eggs were simmered (in curry and soup, respectively), a favored way of cooking them in other cuisines as well.

Never been laid...
In Jewish cookery, bahay itlog are known as eyerlekh (or ayelach, 'little eggs' in Yiddish) and are added to classic chicken soup; they are similarly found in traditional recipes for Portuguese canja de galinha (chicken broth) and Vietnamese pho ga (chicken and rice noodle soup). Proving to be culinary contrarians, the Japanese prefer their ovaries served as a type of yakitori (grilled skewered chicken) called kinkan, which is also the word for the kumquat fruit they so closely resemble. Here in the Philippines, adding them to chicken adobo is the most popular preparation - keeping it in the family, as it were.

Not one to pass up an opportunity to try something new, I bought a bag of bahay itlog, muttered an apology to all reproductive females in the universe, and headed home to expand my culinary horizon another nasty bit more.

Notes
1. As opposed to Filipino menudo, which uses primarily pork meat.
2. It's very unlikely that you'll find butchered hens with ovaries intact at the supermarket. Instead, talk to your local butcher or poultry farmer about procuring them fresh.


Adobong Bahay Itlog ng Manok 
(Chicken Ovary Adobo)

My mother cautioned against refrigerating bahay itlog and insisted they be cooked immediately. I couldn't find any information online to support or disprove her advice about storing them, but it was just as well to take full advantage of absolutely fresh ingredients. Besides, family members (*ahem* Mr. Noodle) may not appreciate opening the fridge to find a bag of reproductive organs just sitting there beside the Greek yogurt.


Most of what I've read about the texture of cooked unlaid eggs describe them as either creamy and velvety, or chewier than a rubber ball. With a recipe like adobo for which a long, slow simmer is ideal, achieving the former is a matter of timing that may be difficult to hit, while risking the latter by overcooking the eggs is a definite possibility. My compromise was to add the yolks toward the end of cooking and watch them diligently, rather than leave the pot to simmer at leisure as I would normally do for adobo. Thankfully, I managed to produce balls of mildly yolk-y flavor, a consistency closer to that of hard-boiled egg white and the appearance of plump kumquats, as Japanese yakitori-lovers had astutely observed.

I'm happy to say that the dish was quite satisfactory over all and even earned my mother's proud approval. Not an ignorant child after all...


Ingredients

2 cups of bahay itlog, yolks separated from membranes and gently rinsed (I'm not sure how many separate ovaries were in the bag I purchased, but this was my yield.)

2 Tbsps canola oil, divided
1 lb (500g) boneless chicken thighs
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 small red onion, sliced thinly
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
1 Tbsp brown sugar
1/4 cup cane or apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 bay leaf

1. In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat 1 Tbsp of oil over medium-high heat and brown chicken pieces, then remove and set aside;
2. Add another 1 Tbsp of oil and sauté garlic and onion until soft and fragrant. Return chicken pieces to pot and toss to mix;
3. Add all of the remaining ingredients and bring to a slow boil, then reduce heat to low. Cover and let simmer for 20-30 minutes or until chicken is cooked;
4. While still simmering, gently add the bahay itlog to the pot, but do not stir immediately to prevent them from breaking. Cover and continue simmering for another 7-10 minutes, until the yolks start to cook;
5. Uncover and very, very gently, start tossing the mixture so that the yolks are in the sauce. You can also ladle the cooking liquid over the eggs to help them along. As the yolks cook, they will turn a lighter, more opaque yellow and will feel more firm.
6. Test one egg to make sure it's done, then remove from heat and let sit for a few minutes before serving. Served with steamed rice.

As with all adobos, this recipe benefits from being served a day or two after cooking. Just be sure to allow it to cool completely before storing in the refrigerator, then heating it back up slowly to avoid drying out or overcooking the meat and eggs.


Do you know of other recipes for chicken ovaries? If so, please share!



Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Lamb, Lentils and Moriones: Easter in Marinduque

Braised Lamb Shank with Lentils

It's no Easter Parade.

At the stroke of midnight, Mr. Noodle and I will join the annual paschal exodus from Metro Manila to the outlying provinces, beginning with 2-hour drive to the port Lucena in Quezon province. From there, we'll board a ferry, colloquially known as a RoRo (as in, 'roll on, roll off') for a relatively short cruise to the island province of Marinduque. It may not be the Queen Elizabeth 2, but it beats an actual row boat, which might have been our only other option, thanks to my incorrigibly procrastinating ways.

Still calibrated to the American holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas as the travel periods to avoid, the husband and I nonchalantly delayed purchasing our airfare until they were nearly sold out. We managed to score return tickets, but were left scrambling for alternative arrangements for the first leg of our trip; hence, a 2-hour ferry ride in the wee morning hours during which one of us must remain awake to guard our luggage and the precious bag of Crunchy Cheetos substituting for our traditional travel snack of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish crackers.

It's not all that bad, really. Although the seats are of the moulded-plastic variety, onboard concessionaires offer mostly hard-boiled eggs and instant noodle cups, and the condition of the restrooms can quickly deteriorate, the ship is clean, spacious and steady for the most part. When we arrive at the Port of Balanacan, I hope to see the towering figure of the Virgin Mary that welcomes ships to the harbor illuminated by the morning sun.

Virgin Mary at Balanacan Port, Marinduque

Mr. Noodle and I will celebrate Easter with my family in Mogpog, the birthplace of the Moriones Festival. This colorful, interactive weeklong celebration commemorates the story of Saint Longinus, the Roman soldier who pierced a crucified Jesus' side with a spear and whose blind eye was subsequently cured by a drop of Christ's blood. This story and that of the Morions - the anonymous local residents who dress up in colorful masks and costumes depicting Roman centurions - are often overshadowed by the more sensational (and bloody) Eastertide re-enactments of the Crucifixion and processions of penitent flagellants, complete with whippings and nailings to crosses.

Famously fierce faces of the Moriones Festival

In Marinduque, each city or town has its own Moriones with 'soldiers' stalking the streets in search of naughty children to scare straight. Their wood-carved visages painted in fierce scowls and frightening snarls have become icons for travel and tourism campaigns, but there's more to these morions than scary masks. Residents volunteer to portray morions as part of penance, in prayer for a personal cause or as an expression of gratitude for their blessings, but their commitment can last for a decade or longer. Instead of angry faces, these morions often have a serene expression; rather than helmets crested with feathers or a brush of stiff hairs, theirs are adorned with flowers representing each year of their commitment, to be removed one by one.

Mogpog Morions

And then there is the Good Friday procession during which flower-bedecked carozas (Sp. carroza='float') bearing tableaus of various saints wend their way from the local church through the town's streets. The care and attention devoted to these displays are evident in the smallest details, from the figures' life-like expressions to their ornate costumes. Even in a small town like Mogpog, this procession is a sight to behold. These are the images and icons of Easter in Marinduque that I would encourage anyone to experience for themselves.

Procession of ornate carozas

Breaking the Lenten Fast

I have previously observed that there is no signature Easter food in the Philippines. If anything could be considered a hallmark, it would be the presence of copious protein (especially of the porcine persuasion) after a long Lenten period of fasting and abstinence from meat. Otherwise, the festive meal is much as it would be for other celebrations - lechon, in particular, and whatever dishes are family favorites. Before Mr. Noodle and I indulge in just such a meal this coming Sunday, I prepared a dish that would be familiar to many Easter Sunday tables on the other side of the globe - tender lamb braised then baked with savory lentils.

Braised Lamb Shanks with Lentils

This dish is found in the 2008 reprint of James Beard's The Fireside Cook Book (first published in 1949) and it couldn't have been easier to make. Unfortunately, the recipe is not available online and I do not have permission to reprint in its entirety. Instead, allow me to share the ingredients and general procedure, then encourage you to consider adding the book to your own collection.


Ingredients

Lamb shanks
Butter or olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Garlic
Fresh thyme
Water or broth
Quick-cooking lentils
Onion
Cloves
Bay leaf

To make:

The lamb shanks are first seared in butter or olive oil, then seasoned with salt and pepper. In a large Dutch oven, place lamb shanks and add garlic, thyme and water or broth. Cover and simmer.

Wash lentils, removing any stones or broken pieces, then place in a saucepan and add water to cover. Add clove-studded onion, bay leaf, garlic and salt. Simmer until lentils are just cooked. Spread lentils in a casserole and place the shanks on top, adding the cooking liquid from both the lentils and lamb. Bake in the oven for a half hour until the lamb is tender and fully cooked.

Happy Easter to All!