Pig’s brain. Frog legs. Pig’s blood. Dog meat. Cow’s testicles. No. This is not a biology class. This is all about food.
If you are the squeamish type, relax. I will not harm your discriminating palate. Food, after all, is something that all of us looks forward to at the end of the day. Nothing beats the idea of eating home-cooked meals served with some good loving. Imagine going home and eating a plate of steaming rice made more heavenly by the aroma of pandan leaves and served with some sumptuous pork adobo or some steaming hot tinolang manok on a rainy day. How about some fried fish and a plate of fried rice topped with some toasted fried garlic? Good food at its best. Imagine the sight. Heavenly smell. The taste. Go ahead……. Imagine it….
Feels good, right?
Many of my best memories are associated with food. I come from a family of cooks. I was brought up with the idea that if you want to eat good food then you must know how to cook. Sure, you can eat at the restaurant and you can pay for it but cooking it yourself makes the experience more rewarding. We owe it to ourselves to experience life at its best. It comes from a very simple concept. You love yourself therefore you pamper your senses with the best things in life. And one of the best things in life is food.
My adventures with cooking began at an early age. Every summer, I looked forward for the end of the school year. My parents would take us to the province for a month long respite from school. Life is good. Vacation at the province means adventures. It means climbing trees, swimming in the river and race to the hilltop. There too, at the back of my grandparent’s house, my imagination took me to greater heights as I learned how to cook my first vegetable stew. Gumamela and santan leaves, some stones for garnishing, seasoned with dust as salt. Then we set off and collect some clams at the river located at the back of the house. If I get lucky, I get to cooked it using my grandma’s clay pot with real fire.
No, I have no idea what it tastes like.
My cousins and I were actually sane not to eat our own masterpiece. But there are times that we did broil some dried fish on the charcoal set outside with some crude stones. I have a very bad record of being caught red handed while flashing a sheepish grin to my grandmother as I stealthily enter the back door kitchen to get some left-over rice for us. We did use some coconut shells as plates and food is best eaten with bare hands. Looking back at it now, I wonder how many gumamela and santan plants I must have murdered to perfect my cooking skills.
Cooking is not for the faint-hearted. You must be adventurous if you want food to continuously excite your senses. One must be courageous enough to try new things. Explore new ways of doing it if only to challenge the boredom of eating the same dish for so many years. They said experiment is the key to excite the senses. I took that advice into heart, of course. Sometimes I congratulate myself for a job well done. Everything turns out fine. The experiment is a success! Yes!
But not all the time.
I can still vividly remember the first time I baked my own version of pan de sal, the quintessential bread of the Filipino masses. My elder sister never forgot about my first gastronomic adventure in baking. I still give them a good laugh every time they remember that faithful day. I am a tough cookie and I have every reason to believe that I literally brought that concept into my baking skills.
My pan de sal is as hard as stone. 
I guess that experience was just too traumatic for me. You see as a cook, you always get to taste the product of your ingenuity and creativity first. I took the first bite on my pan de sal.
I almost broke my front teeth.
I have improved since then but I’ve never tried baking pan de sal again. I’ve learned to stick on my expertise, cooking viands. Main dish, soups, stews, stir-fries and what have you. Name it. I’ll cook it. With sterling qualities at that. Before all my family members lose their front teeth, I guess I will just have to leave the world of baking to my elder sister’s hand. Laugh at me now but I promise. I will bake the best pan de sal on earth someday. Just wait and see. And when that time comes, I will ask you to take the first bite. Inform me now so I can put you in my list of honored guests. Good luck.
Since food is an adventure to excite the senses, have you ever tried eating the exotic ones? Frog legs. Pig’s brain. Cow’s testicles. Dog meat. No, not pork blood stews. It’s not included in the list.
Pork blood stew or dinuguan is not exotic for me. I grew up eating it with a thirst likened to a vampire. It’s yummy and best eaten with steamed rice cake or puto. Traditionally, it’s cooked using pork innards but I haven’t tried cooking it that way. I always use the pork belly part. I don’t know how other cultures might view the dish but I know for one they shouldn’t judge it without giving it a try.
That is if they’re courageous enough.
Today, I came across a food blog that features frog legs cooked with quail eggs, adobo style. Adobo is synonymous with chicken and pork or sitaw, string beans. But I can’t seem to associate adobo with frogs. I can’t bring myself to eat it honestly. But I was told it tasted like chicken. Then maybe I’ll just stick to chicken legs. More juicy. Much bigger. And I don’t think of warts while eating it with gusto. But still, if I can do away with the cruelty of how it was captured and killed, maybe I can bring myself to cook something like this in the near future. The only thing is, what if Mr. Froggy turns out to be a prince charming?
Darn. Girls will hunt me down. PETA, too.
Some of the exotic ones I’ve tried was pig’s brain cooked in some soup, dog meat cooked adobo style and my favorite cow’s testicles, cooked as soup number 5. I remember eating them as a kid. Today, I cannot say the same. Aside from soup number five, I am not an adventurous eater anymore. I don’t crave for exotic food.
Among them, the dog meat was something that I’ve never forget. Not because I relish the idea of eating man’s best friend but because I was fooled into eating it. I thought I was just eating some chicken meat. I remember trying to dislodge the food out of my stomach but I guess my digestive system is working on a no return, no exchange policy.
I know up north it is actually considered as a delicacy. But there’s a law against this one now. Dog meat is not allowed to be sold in the market anymore. It’s illegal and it poses some health risks. I don’t know how to take it but even if it’s cultural, I don’t think they have to be killed that way. A dog’s meat tastes like chicken but I don’t think I can bring myself to eat it again.
What about pig’s brain?
My love affair with pork and pigs started with my father. I have been accustomed to accompanying him to the different markets at the city where we own some stalls at the meat section. I remembered being surrounded by pork, beef and goat’s meat. Enormous tapalans which served as chopping boards for meats were scattered at the counter. When the day was over, that means somewhere 10 am, Dad and I would essentially roam around the markets. I had a very intimate relationship with markets around the city and I know them like the back of my hand. I handled fish like a pro. I know the names of the different cuts for meat like a seasoned chef.
I was only ten years old.
My father would introduce me to the vegetable and fish vendors, the egg and fruit stall owners and what have you. I know my way to the markets all over the city of Iloilo. The crude language sometimes found at the marketplace never bothered me. I almost feel like a gangster while I exchange high fives to tattoed and huge, towering men brandishing the biggest knives I have ever seen in my entire lifetime. Some of them who worked for my father would cook some soup using the pig’s brain as the soup base. The pig’s skull is left after some customer buys that part that is being use for cooking spicy sisig, the mask of the pig as they call it or maskara.
Pig’s brain? What does it taste like?
If I can remember it right, it tastes good. It was cooked in some broth seasoned with some herbs and spices as well as garnished with some vegetables. I think they have put some peppercorns in it and lots of garlic. Looking back, I must have looked barbaric while eating it. That was like 18 years ago or so. I am actually trying to think about the wisdom of the idea that by eating it, my neurons would gain something significant. I just don't know if Einstein would like to try this, too.
What about cow’s testicles?
The best way to cook it is to make a soup out of it. This fabled soup known as Soup Number five is actually expensive in some restaurants. However, some roadside eateries offer this on a very reasonable price. And mind you, it tastes really good. And yes, it is made of cow’s testicles. Simply put. You got to have the balls to eat this.
It is reputedly known to have some powers to excite the senses. It is believed to be an aphrodisiac. I know for sure that some ancient cultures had associated rams and horned bulls as representations of fertility. So maybe, this is the reason why. I honestly don’t know. Aside from its obvious function, I have yet to conduct a comparative study about the use of cow’s testicles across cultures. Or whether it is effective as what they claim to be. I have eaten it numerous times but I did not feel anything unusual.
What about you?
My father was the one who cooked it for us. He mortified my mom when he said that our viand for that day was cow’s testicles. My mom is a very good cook but I have always seen my father as the adventurous one. The cow’s testicle was cut into desired length and was washed and cleaned thoroughly. When cooked with the right spices, believe me. It tastes heavenly.
Just a few weeks ago, I would have wanted to try to cook it myself. But alas, I don’t have any idea as to where I can buy some testicles. For sure, they don’t have it at the meat section of major groceries store and malls at the city. Just try to imagine what would be the sign at the meat section.
Testicles sold here.
My next door neighbor told me that maybe I can get it from the slaughter house. Try to order it in advance, of course. She also jokingly told me that maybe I can use a man’s testicles instead. Actually that might be a good idea especially for men who got this very bad habit of using their testicles rather than their brains most of the time. Think of making eunuchs out of them.
If I can’t find anybody who fits that category and if worst comes to worst, my male friends should indeed run for their lives.
So which one do you fancy? Pig’s brain? Dog meat? Cow’s testicles? Or something more exotic?
Let me know.
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