What's Cooking With Dive? Sinigang

Hey! Sinigang!

Yup. You heard. It's time to get messy in the kitchen again, experimenting with Pinoy cuisine.
Today, we'll be making sinigang.
Say it out loud … "Sinigang".
Right. Now you know what it sounds like, let's find out what it tastes like.
For the impatient amongst you I will describe it.
To put it simply, sinigang is sour soup.
"Sour" … What a spectacularly inadequate word "sour" is.
We're talking an awesome taste explosion; an orgasm of tamarind and citrus that will leave your tastebuds screaming for more!

Here's a tip based on experience: Make WAY more than you need. The broth is so incredibly delicious you'll want to freeze it by the bucketload so you can always have some there to feed your addiction. Believe me, if you possess any tastebuds at all this will hook you faster and harder than crack cocaine.

Hokay … Ingredients.
Last week's adobo recipe was as simple as simple gets; this one is only slightly more complex but has more stuff to track down.

Fun! Silly string beans. We have every sort of long green bean over here except these. Wibbly-wobbly worm beans. You should be able to pick them up at any Asian store, however.

The big, fat, glossy black/purple European aubergines are perfect for antipasti, but for this dish you'll want the skinny sort. If you can't find these, use the fatties; they're perfectly okay.

Tamarind seeds … Buggrit! They had them last week but this week they'd sold out, so tamarind paste it is.
If you can get tamarind seeds, use those … Boil them until the seeds crack, then let 'em cool and squish the pulp out into some warm water and strain off the crap. Use the tamarind water in the dish.

If - like me this week - you are using tamarind paste, get ready for some poo-related fun.
Soak this stuff in a bowl containing about a biggish cup of warm water. Then get your fingers in there and … Eeewww … Yes, it looks and feels EXACTLY like poo.
When you've squished and smeared all the goodness out of it, squeeze the remaining water out of the pulp and then strain the water (a tea-strainer is fine enough) to give you a cup of cloudy, brown tamarind stock.
If you have a squeamish spouse or partner, take the rest of the pulp to the bathroom after they've left it and drop it in the pan, yelling "Hey! You left a floater!" It looks more like poo than poo itself.

Do NOT use the ready-made stuff in a jar. It is not the same thing at all and is far less fun than making it properly.

Oh … Another hint … you can buy packets of sinigang mix. DON'T! The ingredients are salt, salt, salt and some citric acid, plus a load of E-numbers. The difference between the real thing and the packet mix is the difference between having sex with Johnny Depp and watching hyenas fucking on a wildlife documentary.

Meat … Actually meat, poultry, fish or veggies; the choice is yours. I've chosen once again to offend Muslims and Jews alike and to eat a sweet little organic piggy, which I've cut into lumps.

Today I am making enough for three. For me, that means sinigang for lunch with a bowl of steamed jasmine rice, lots of broth to freeze and sinigang for dinner with adobo and rice (like last week's photo except with sinigang instead of miso).
It's no use me making enough for one. My tastebuds will crave more until I am driven insane with sinigang-lust.

Everybody ready? Got your pinny on?
Okay, let's cook!

Slaughter one large organic onion (a strong one, not one of those wimpy Spanish onions with no taste) or half a dozen shallots out of your garden.
I like to chop half really fine and half roughly, so the fine-chopped half gets the taste directly into the meat as it browns and the rough-chopped stuff provides yummy pieces of onion in the soup.
Peel, splatter and chop a couple of cloves of garlic (see last week for garlic chat).

Right … The photo of the pork in the casserole dish shows the amount I used. Use as much as you want. Experiment. Have fun. That's the joy of cooking. Bollocks to grams and ounces; I prefer "a handful", "a splodge", about yay much", etc.

You know what's coming next … Lightly brown off the meat and soften the onion/shallots and garlic.

Run out the back door because you forgot and grab a tomato or two off the vine, then rough chop them and toss 'em in, popping a little one in your mouth as a bonus. Add about a pint of boiling water from the kettle and the cup of tamarind juice, then toss in the aubergines … I used two of the long, skinny aubergines, cut into bite-sized chunks.
If you want to, at this stage you can add a small chili or two, but I'd advise making the dish straight the first time and then experimenting with flavours when you've got the basic thang down.

Can you get those cute little "calamansi" in your shop? I couldn't either this week, so I squeezed one lemon and one lime in there.
For those who may not know, calamansi are tiny little lime-ish citrus fruits. So darned cute and very tasty, but a lemon and a lime will do if you can't get hold of them.

Add a few good gloops of Thai or Vietnamese fish sauce (yummy).

Are you with me so far?
Good … Because now we can top up with boiling water to cover everything (and more if you want lots of stock) put a lid on the pot, turn down the heat, wash up anything that needs washing up (always wash up as you go along; there's nothing more unappetising than seeing a sink full of crap and pans while you dish up) and go watch the Olympics / cruise the interweb for porn / whatever … In my case, mow the lawns.

Done that? Good.
Get back in the kitchen where your pork will be tender, having simmered for forty minutes or so (judge the time to suit what you're cooking … in my case it took forty minutes to mow the front lawn so that's how long I left it simmering).
Now toss in the wibbly-wobbly worm beans … I used most of a bundle of string beans, cut into finger-length slices … give the whole mess a few stirs to mix things up and stick the lid back on.

Now grab either a Chinese leaf or a pak choi from the crisper (I used Chinese leaf), rinse, shake dry and rough chop a big old chunk of it.
Stick the rest back in the crisper for later and take a minute or two to dish up a nice bowl of rice from your steamer.
Inhale … Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Now …
Got your soup bowl ready?
Take the lid off the pot and toss in the Chinese leaf, giving it a quick stir and then immediately dish up.

You want to aim for the kind of look in the photo. There'll be lots of stock left over but that's "A GOOD THING".

For comparison, this is Jong's version from the day he taught me how to make it, together with rice and kare kare, which I'll be cooking next.

The broth that's left can be sipped as soup and is mind-buggeringly fantastic on its own.
Or you can heat it up again and serve it (thanks, Joy) with fried fish and rice.
Whatever you do, make enough to freeze some as it is totally addictive and you'll crave it at odd hours.
I also filled an ice cube tray with it and made little cubes of stock to just add a hint of delicious tamarind and citrus to other soups and stews.

Enjoy.