Buko Pie for Memory

There were two genuine time travel moments today.Without leaving Massachusetts, I was transported to the Philippines. Tonight in the darkened Westwood High School auditorium, I sat and listened to the Iskwelahang Pilipino Rondalla. Part one of their program were classic Filipino songs that I sang while in the UP Concert Chorus. I couldn’t tell that I was in America. They were flawless and authentic.

The second experience was biting into my very first piece of homemade buko pie. Buko means “young coconut”, and is the soft white meat of a green coconut.

I found a recipe in a Nora Daza cookbook.

I went hunting for the key ingredient. We found green coconuts at a Latino market (as well as longaniza from the Dominican Republic) which we will try tomorrow.

Then, we found young coconut meat on the Asian shelf in the regular supermarket. It was from Thailand. I decided to try out the canned coconut meat.

First I rinsed it well. Then I cut it into slivers with two knives. So far, so good.

Here is the recipe, I will see you on the other side of it.

1/2 cup coconut water

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup evaporated milk

1/2 cup corn starch

two good pie crusts (make them or buy them)

Bake at 400 degrees for 25-30 minutes or until golden brown.

Nora Daza’s recipe says to combine all the ingredients (except the pie crusts, obviously) and cook them until thickened. Then pour into the crust, top and seal, bake.

I started to stir the filling on the stove top,but the combination of sugar and cornstarch made it too easy to scorch. So I opted for a double boiler (we have Bud’s grandmother Bell’s double boiler). I was thankful to Nana Beulah for it!! It saved the pie filling!

I stirred the filling in the double boiler until it began to thicken gently, like pudding. Then I poured it carefully into the pie crust, and covered it with the other crust. I covered the edges with foil (because 400 degrees is hot)!

Into the 400 degree oven it went for 30 minutes.

Afterwards, it was set down on a counter to cool, until we returned from the concert.

I came home and set myself up for a bite.

I was transported.

I am in Laguna, it is a long breezy drive south of Manila in the 1970s. This is time travel. We are all young  martial law is in effect in the Philippines. We have big dreams, but no way to implement them. We have just this morning, this long highway, this camaraderie with two doctors, one Spanish professor, a famous journalist named Louie Beltran . We are a band for a moment in time.

People Power was ten years away. I wouldn’t be there to see it, but Louie Beltran would cover it for the free world.  My sister would run into Louie in San Francisco, and he would call out, “Burkhalter!” Then soon after that I would see his obituary.

Everything is full of layers. Everything has stories. At this time in my life, it seems that food is talking to me, reminding me of old friends and wonderful days. I am thankful.

Pie

The Pinnacle of Comfort Food, Egg Pie

I had a lovely day. I woke up to a sunny day and felt like going to yard sales to see what I could see. It was a jackpot of a day, and we found, among other things, an antique hooked rug – a large one for ten dollars. Then, some antique dolls, and cigar boxes, some poetry books and great pottery.  More than buying, it is just fun to rummage through old things and chat with friendly people.

As the day moved on, it started to look like a dinner party sort of day, so I asked around the family for menus, and they wanted cashew chicken and tofu with oyster sauce. I baked green beans in teriyaki sauce and garlic for a veg, and generally had fun making the entrees.

But the pinnacle, for me,  was the egg pie. This was easy and delicious, and I will never buy an egg pie from the  bakery again. It is just eggs and milk and sugar and vanilla and a sprinkling of nutmeg. But it tastes like childhood, and coming in from the cold, and beings told everything will be all right. I made two, and now there is only one.

What a nice dinner party we had! And after, when everyone was stuffed, we went for a walk down the street. The sky was a perfect Maxfield Parrish blue, and a star hung like an ornament next to the moon. The houses up and down the street were lit from within, and I enjoyed seeing so many cozy interiors. One house was having a party and a woman’s voice filled the night with her laughter.

A little family with a tiny Scottie pup, sat on their stairs, and we wished the man a happy Father’s Day, and he called out to the puppy, “Luna, Luna!”. And his little girl climbed on his lap and said, “Papa, who are those people?” I don’t know what he said, but I do know the story of his house. It was a sad house for a long time, and it was on the market for a while. Then one day the house started getting fixed up and before long, there was a young family moving in.

I wish them a long and happy life here amongst the maple trees.

Summer on a Plate

Summer on a plate. The kids’ friend Nate came to visit, and everyone felt like fish tacos. So of course I said, “Sure!” although I had never made them before. But so what, right? What is cooking except a grown up sort of play? I went online and found a recipe that said it was authentic.

We tried to get out the door, but my daughter who has a wonderful and unique talent for finding four leaf clovers was taking a photo of her latest, trying to capture it before it wilted.

The usual daily excitement ensued. I got all of my Amazing Ongoing Garage Sale out the door, watched a wonderful video on LUCK, did my homework for my first NeuroPositive coaching session, and got dinner together, (with the help of my numerous children and hard working husband).

I was distracted by the light coming into the back yard. I always want to run outside when the golden hour arrives. I was, instead, being in “just this moment”, staying in the flow of frying fish, and moving it mindfully onto paper towels. I carefully mixed the white sauce and stopped to taste it, marveling at the time travel of a taste.

Finally, around the table with the merry bunch, somehow everyone got lots of food. My son told the story about when he asked the Tooth Fairy for a million dollars and got five. We were laughing so hard and at the end of it, someone said that it was Flag Day, and they started singing the “Star Spangled Banner” which was followed by rousing verses from Les Miserables. There we were, sitting around the table, having demolished the fish tacos, the guacamole, the salsa, the corn, singing away like the folks in “The Student Prince”.

Then we went on a walk, and I said to Bud, “Soon the fireflies will come out.” And just like that, one – then two – fireflies appeared. And that is all. And that is everything.

—————

This was the recipe I tried today

http://www.food.com/recipe/copycat-rubios-fish-tacos-209454

Cold and Rainy Carbonara

The picture is not so clear, but this was very, very good. It reminded me of wonderful meals I had in my happy home in Philadelphia in the school year of 1982-1983. I was 25 and a widow at that time, and was invited in that first year, to live in a wonderful house of friends which we called the Madhouse. There were six of us in the house, two Englishmen, one Australian,  two Spanish women and me.One of our friends would lead the shopping at the Italian Market on Saturdays, and pick out the best cheese and other things. Then, at home, in that funny kitchen, we would embark on splendid culinary adventures. We would invite many friends, and sometimes we would have big parties. I loved it all and counted it as borrowed time.

It was a time that I would wish on all my children, a time of youth and camaraderie, a lot of eating and dancing. And that thing people say about “living in your heart”? All it takes is a thought, and I am back in that kitchen with a pot on the stove listening and laughing with friends from all over the world.

So today it was rainy, gray and blustery. My son asked for pasta. I remembered the Madhouse Carbonara and began assembling it. Free range eggs, local cream, good parmesan, salt, pepper. It is simple, elegant, wonderful comfort food. It is good for what might ail you, and perfect for a dark and stormy night.