A fish story

I floated out to the breach at Sugar Dock toward Tinian once but managed to get to the reef before the sun went down. I wrote of it, then had a similar experience at the reef where the stationary ships come close near Quarter Master. I wrote about it, too, which caused my editor to comment that I must harbor a death wish.

My mother who turns 96 this September, bidding her time in a Hawaii hospice, predicted when I was 4 (after I “drowned” again) that I will die wading in waters. Perhaps she was prescient so I cooled it treading too close to the reef.

Not this late January. Tide was in at CK and I still could not resist looking for shells by the reef. I tiptoed on the rocks but the strong current was unkind to my leg cramps, then my goggles snapped. I bobbed on the tide semi-blind. I survived to tell about it but this time, I am resolved not to get into the water by my lonesome. This sour story had me drink lots of salty waters!

I grew up on the shores of Northern Luzon and milkfish (bangus) was raised in the fishponds by the marshy wetlands in the delta close to Aparri, Cagayan. Milkfish came as a common fare in my dining table so when I saw some at the store, I picked up small frozen ones to feast on sour soup, sinigang, and cap the day.

The Korean markings gave me my first clue that they weren’t from my region except knowing that the grapefruit (pomelo) grown in Davao were packed on site by Koreans and marketed in northeast China, I would not have been surprised if they packaged the bangus as well.

It was Korean-packed all right but the fish originated in Kaohsiung. I aimed to make the sour soup (from the Malay singgang) that is so dear to Philippine taste buds. I did not pay too close attention to my mother in the kitchen on the “how to,” so I walked to my neighbor to inquire on how. A piping hot soup beckoned.

I knew enough about sampaloc (sour tamarind that sometimes turn sweet when ripe) and the tiny relative to lemon and lime, the calamansi, but they were not available. Someone harvested the kamias in my yard so that was out; green mango was not in season, and the guavas bore no fruit. The kiwi fruit (Chinese gooseberry) was too expensive. I did not relish using bullion cubes. I was determined to use only natural ingredients.

Happily, the Korean-owned, Chinese-run Filipino-staffed store I frequent packaged fixings, okra-ladies fingers, white radish-labanos-daikon, water spinach-kangkong, yard long green beans-sitaw, tomatoes, and eggplant-talong, sans the garlic and onions. An acidic fruit was what I was lacking. At Tun Joaquin Doi Rd. past the marshy area by the lake to the P.O. was a carmay (another gooseberry) tree downed by Soudelor. I snuck my vehicle close to the yard fence to help myself to the fruit but the shrub tree was not in fruiting season.

Basi (from sugar cane) would have been fine, even lambanog or tuba (from coconut), now gathered in Micronesia, but I was not that lucky. So I was left with good old white vinegar, which was the only thing I could find in the store lacking the dark sugar cane “juice” from Ilokandia.

What I was clear about was the milkfish. The bangus was the last one to go into the pot after the veggies boiled to semi-tender, but blimey me, I forgot the fish sauce (bagoong), or the salted small shrimp sauce to give it a savory flavor. So I feasted on sour sinigang, telling myself that I was “too sweet” anyway, and I needed souring. I slurped the hot soup and ate the bangus from head to tailfin with glee.

My neighbor who instructed me how to cook the sinigang revealed that her children do not get served fish because they never learned how debone the fish. Mothers tend to protect their kids. It is a pity, in this bony case. Unless crispy fried, the calcium-rich bones and scales provide a challenge to the scrupulous gourmand for fine bones abound and the bigger ones have to be set aside. Prepared crunchy, they are chewable.

It was the acidic taste of the soup-stew that I was after, the sour flavor is at home to the Indo-Malay tongue, common in South Asia, Southeast Asia, and tribes in South China. I did not encounter a similar dish in China among the 9 to 1 dominant Han.

China does have a heavenly sweet-and-sour fish dish, or meat (preferably pork and/or lamb). The fish or meat is sliced into thin pieces, fried in a deep wok where it turns crunchy; the sweet and sour is made from the dip sauce that turns a meal into a feast for gourmet. The royals consumed the viand under the mandate of heaven, so being portly porky was a sign of wellbeing among them rather than just being cholesterol obese.

The sinigang is the common man’s (tao) fare in my neck of the woods. I boiled the lot with the garlic and union going first a few minutes before the veggies, giving the white radish and the eggplant a head start, poured in the milkfish and simmered it for five minutes, and served it piping hot. OK, Pinas. You may wipe that drool (laway) off your face.