Sira-sira store: Bisayang adobo

THERE are many versions of the adobo. It is a soul-satisfying, sinfully delicious meat dish composed of pork or chicken or a combination of both and pairs well with rice. The sauce, which earns its stars through a mixture of vinegar, garlic and soy sauce (basic ingredients), can stand as sud-an or viand to go with rice. For people on a diet, it is a killer dish that rationalizes going off the well-trodden path of good health. And for those who have salt or fat restrictions, it is the kind of sin worthy of committing at least once a year. There are several versions of adobo I have eaten in my young and short life (no, I am not dying—just dying to eat another adobo meal). I met with pale adobo made with patis or bagoong to provide saltiness and sukang Iloco as the souring agent. And brown adobo crowned with laurel leaves, garlic, peppercorns and generous amount of vinegar and soy sauce. There’s adobo stewed in vinegar, soy sauce, garlic, onions, black pepper and pineapples, which, according to the cook, was her Hawaiian style adobo. I don’t know why Pinoys call anything that has pineapple as Hawaiian. My uncle Gustav gives a trial answer: “Because Hawaii used to be the top exporter of the fruit. The Philippines, Brazil, Costa Rica, Thailand and China are now the top growers of this plant that belongs to the bromeliad family.” Thanks, uncle, for the lesson in history and botany. Adobo made spicy with the addition of siling espada and salted black beans may not make headlines, but it’s good for the stomach. What many people have not talked about is the humba, which is a Visayan pork dish cooked like the adobo. It has vinegar, soy sauce, garlic, dried azucena flowers and brown sugar. Some cooks are happy with just onions and garlic, while others add salted black beans. The pork is stewed slowly to reduce the water to sticky goodness, and the meat fork-tender. Humba can be called the adobo of the Visayan, or the Bisayang adobo. But since I am neither a historian nor a food critic, you don’t have to believe me. I am just postulating an idea. There is a semi-dry version, with just enough sauce clinging to the meat, while some are soupy. A dry version that floats in its own fat can keep for weeks when stored in airtight jars. Put a lock if you don’t want anyone to polish it off. Believe it or not, there is a humba said to be of Chinese origin. It has whole, peeled boiled eggs and sometimes salted black beans and black mushrooms. Another Bisayang adobo that I like a lot is called adobong pinaungot. It’s similar to lechon kawali, but the manner of cooking is different. The kawali is whole pork belly while the pinaungot is pork belly cut into serving pieces, marinated and then boiled. The pork pieces are then deep-fried to glorious crispiness. It is heaven on earth when dipped in vinegar and garlic. Adobo, especially the Bisaya version, makes the soul sing. I eat it when I’m happy. Or when I’m sad. I eat it even when I’m not hungry. Like the mountain climber who said he climbs mountains “because it’s there,” I eat adobo simply because it’s there.