Anyway, ‘inihaw’ you like it
November 11, 2005 | 12:00am
A momentous day in ancient pre-history was the day a bolt of lightning struck a nearby log and set it on fire. After this, early homo sapiens discovered that they could replicate the fire and use it to their advantage. It could be used to warm them when the rains fell or when it snowed, it was used to navigate around prehistoric earth when darkness fell upon the land. It was also used in basic protection for fending off potential enemies and dangerous prehistoric creatures.
Our early ancestors also discovered that food didn’t have to be eaten raw anymore. To their surprise, fire could transform a tough, cold, wooly mammoth steak into something of gourmet proportions. The days of saber-tooth tiger steak tartar, trilobite sushi, and kilawen na prehistoric eel were over. Flame-cooked food was now a more palatable option.
Indeed, we have come a long way from slapping a dead carcass over an open fire. With all of today’s modern cuisines, different styles of preparation and even expert training and schooling, food has truly evolved. When making inihaw, however, we go back to our prehistoric cooking roots.
Inihaw – anyone can do it. All it needs is that most primal of elements – fire. It may sound like inihaw anywhere would taste the same and nothing could make it so special. It may also sound like nothing could go wrong because there are only three key things when making inihaw: your choice of meat, your choice of seasoning, and hot coals. Simple enough. Inihaw, however, pays attention to some subtleties that can transform a seemingly ordinary dish into something of culinary perfection.
At home in Baguio, I look forward to Sunday lunches because that is when all of us in the family are together. We share our lunch as a family and the typical meal would consist of an unparalleled ensaladang talong, various fresh vegetables, inihaw na bangus, tilapia, or baboy. The general favorite of the three viands would be the inihaw na baboy. Our family loves its meat.
To this day, no inihaw quite tastes anything like it. Even if it is charbroiled down in Manila by our specifications, it still doesn’t taste right. Perhaps this is a personal bias, and the environment somehow affects the taste. Perhaps it’s being home and around the family that makes eating this seemingly ordinary inihaw na baboy exquisite. But really, with all those reasons and biases factored in, it is still the best-tasting inihaw.
The story of this great dish starts in the Baguio City public market. Early Sunday mornings in the market are an interesting time – the air is chilly, providing natural refrigeration to all of the fresh food and, since the crowd is still not quite present yet, there is a certain serenity in the marketplace. Our suki of several years at the meat store, aware that it’s Sunday, has choice cuts of pork out and ready for our inihaw lunch.
Back home, the coals are already heating up in the backyard grill. To have that clean, genuine smoky flavor, no kerosene or any other gas is used to start the fire up. Dried coconut husks catch fire quickly and are good fire starters. It does take a bit longer for the coals to be hot enough for making ihaw, but it’s all worth it. Control over how strong the heat and the fire affect the overall outcome of the inihaw. Besides, up in Baguio where time somehow moves considerably slower, there is really no need to hurry.
Time is an important thing to consider when making inihaw. True, the meat can be cooked over a really strong fire, but the outcome is completely different. Over a roaring flame, the meat loses natural juices, has the tendency to become dry, tough and charred. On the other hand, broiled slowly over hot embers, the flavor is locked in; the meat stays tender, and has less of a chance of being reduced to ashes. The oil slowly oozes out, transforming the fatty pork rind into crunchy and tasty morsels.
As for seasoning, nothing beats plain old rock salt. Since rock salt has bigger granules than iodized salt, the meat doesn’t absorb all of it and a salty inihaw is avoided. At the same time, the rock salt doesn’t toughen up the pork. There aren’t any fancy sauces, mixtures, or overnight marinades – just plain old rock salt more than does the job.
Perhaps the most important thing this dish points out is that, as Bruce Lee says, "The best techniques are the simple ones done correctly." Bruce Lee isn’t a cook, but broiling is a fairly simple technique. It is minimalist in its ingredients and requirements, and when it is done properly, can produce a dish that is excellent in its simplicity.
Send e-mail to enricomiguelsubido@yahoo.com.
Our early ancestors also discovered that food didn’t have to be eaten raw anymore. To their surprise, fire could transform a tough, cold, wooly mammoth steak into something of gourmet proportions. The days of saber-tooth tiger steak tartar, trilobite sushi, and kilawen na prehistoric eel were over. Flame-cooked food was now a more palatable option.
Indeed, we have come a long way from slapping a dead carcass over an open fire. With all of today’s modern cuisines, different styles of preparation and even expert training and schooling, food has truly evolved. When making inihaw, however, we go back to our prehistoric cooking roots.
Inihaw – anyone can do it. All it needs is that most primal of elements – fire. It may sound like inihaw anywhere would taste the same and nothing could make it so special. It may also sound like nothing could go wrong because there are only three key things when making inihaw: your choice of meat, your choice of seasoning, and hot coals. Simple enough. Inihaw, however, pays attention to some subtleties that can transform a seemingly ordinary dish into something of culinary perfection.
At home in Baguio, I look forward to Sunday lunches because that is when all of us in the family are together. We share our lunch as a family and the typical meal would consist of an unparalleled ensaladang talong, various fresh vegetables, inihaw na bangus, tilapia, or baboy. The general favorite of the three viands would be the inihaw na baboy. Our family loves its meat.
To this day, no inihaw quite tastes anything like it. Even if it is charbroiled down in Manila by our specifications, it still doesn’t taste right. Perhaps this is a personal bias, and the environment somehow affects the taste. Perhaps it’s being home and around the family that makes eating this seemingly ordinary inihaw na baboy exquisite. But really, with all those reasons and biases factored in, it is still the best-tasting inihaw.
The story of this great dish starts in the Baguio City public market. Early Sunday mornings in the market are an interesting time – the air is chilly, providing natural refrigeration to all of the fresh food and, since the crowd is still not quite present yet, there is a certain serenity in the marketplace. Our suki of several years at the meat store, aware that it’s Sunday, has choice cuts of pork out and ready for our inihaw lunch.
Back home, the coals are already heating up in the backyard grill. To have that clean, genuine smoky flavor, no kerosene or any other gas is used to start the fire up. Dried coconut husks catch fire quickly and are good fire starters. It does take a bit longer for the coals to be hot enough for making ihaw, but it’s all worth it. Control over how strong the heat and the fire affect the overall outcome of the inihaw. Besides, up in Baguio where time somehow moves considerably slower, there is really no need to hurry.
Time is an important thing to consider when making inihaw. True, the meat can be cooked over a really strong fire, but the outcome is completely different. Over a roaring flame, the meat loses natural juices, has the tendency to become dry, tough and charred. On the other hand, broiled slowly over hot embers, the flavor is locked in; the meat stays tender, and has less of a chance of being reduced to ashes. The oil slowly oozes out, transforming the fatty pork rind into crunchy and tasty morsels.
As for seasoning, nothing beats plain old rock salt. Since rock salt has bigger granules than iodized salt, the meat doesn’t absorb all of it and a salty inihaw is avoided. At the same time, the rock salt doesn’t toughen up the pork. There aren’t any fancy sauces, mixtures, or overnight marinades – just plain old rock salt more than does the job.
Perhaps the most important thing this dish points out is that, as Bruce Lee says, "The best techniques are the simple ones done correctly." Bruce Lee isn’t a cook, but broiling is a fairly simple technique. It is minimalist in its ingredients and requirements, and when it is done properly, can produce a dish that is excellent in its simplicity.
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