Fried Rice: The Ultimate Multicultural Food

When you’re done here, check out the rest of the Bicultural Mom blog carnival on multicultural awareness!

As a child of a multicultural family, fried rice holds a special place in my heart.  While keeping the flavors and ingredients of my own families’ food near and dear, it provides the ultimate canvas for experimenting with flavors and ingredients from other countries and cultures.

Kielbasa and cabbage fried rice

Fried rice was never a “special” meal in my Filipino-American household.  Rather, it was a common occurence after family gatherings and holidays like Easter or Thanksgiving.  Events with a surplus of roasted meat and steamed jasmine rice.   Some families had hotdish or stew to clean out those kinds of leftovers – we had fried rice.

Eggs make it breakfast, right?

Pierogies on the side

Cube it up into little nibble-size pieces

Our fried rice had no bounds – honey glazed ham, hamonada, roast turkey, bratwurst, Spam, chicken breast, lima beans, corn, peas, carrots, cole-slaw mix – it all went in with a couple of scrambled eggs, soy sauce and garlic.  Filipino, Spanish, Chinese and American cuisine all rolled into one warm comforting dish.

Saute the onions, then the veggies and pre-cooked sausage. Your nose will thank you.

Today, I keep the multicultural fried rice tradition alive in my Pakistani-Polish-Mexican neighborhood in Brooklyn, NY.   Jasmine rice is hard to come by, so I’ve embraced the longer grained basmati rice favored by my Pakistani neighbors.  After six years in New Mexico, my palette still cries out for chiles, so we crank up the heat on an otherwise mild, savory dish.  Raphe will roast Southern-style chickens with paprika and beer on a regular basis, throwing the beer drippings into the rice cooker.  The rice, chicken and even the gravy end up in fried rice a few days later.

Crack the eggs right in there. This is a one skillet meal.

Fil-Am Pulled Hamonada Sliders

This is a submission to the Kulinarya Cooking Club April 2011 challenge.  The theme, “decadence” was chosen by Lala of This Little Piggy.  For more information, visit the Kulinarya Cooking Club blog.

Fil-Am Pulled Hamonada Sliders: Heaven on a Bun

When it comes to home-cooking there’s a fine line between decadent and wasteful.

It feels just heavenly to set out food for 30 when you have 10 guests. But what happens to the 3-layer devil’s food cake after the guests leave? What happens to all those expensive fresh herbs and vegetables that don’t make it in to the Easter roasts and salads? What happens to the 10 pounds of leftover ham?????

This hamonada sat in our fridge for 6 days. No way we were letting it go.

As it turns out, those leftovers can come together to create something even more delicious, something even more visually stimulating, something to satisfy cravings for salty, sweet, bitter, sour and savory all at once.

Let’s go back to the beginning.

Remember this bad boy?

Last weekend we shared a lovely hamonada with new friends and old. You see, if all we wanted was savory, sweet and caloric we could have stopped there. What’s not decadent about a rich, fatty cut of ham, slow-roasted in sweet pineapple and apple juices? What’s not indulgent about chunks of fall-off-the-bone tender pork served over rice and drizzled with a syrupy fruit juice reduction?

Adding ketchup makes the pineapple BBQ sauce

But we wanted more. More flavor. More texture. More heat. More pineapple sauce dripping down our palms with each rich, tangy bite.

We wanted… a sandwich.

We turned that leftover hamonada into pulled pork in pineapple BBQ sauce by adding our homemade ketchup and Habanero oil for heat.

Halfway between pickles and cole-slaw. No mayo. Extra ginger.

We raided the last of the red cabbage and carrots (previously seen in our Easter lumpia) and marinated them in rice vinegar, sugar and ginger for tang and crunch.

Not-quite gluten-free rolls.

We rolled out a glorious bunch of golden rice-flour buns with tender crumb and crunchy crust.

Pretty. And pretty spicy.

Then, we sent these sandwiches over the edge with just a few crumbles of creamy bleu cheese and Habanero slices soaked in olive oil.

This, my friends, is the making of decadent and, dare I say, orgasmic, Filipino-American Pulled Hamonada Sliders. Not only are these delicious, but they required absolutely no additional grocery shopping and made effective use of what was already sitting in the fridge.

80% re-purposed leftovers and pantry items. 99% homemade. 100% decadent.

Yes. I ate six of these for dinner.

Notes:

1. As this isn’t our usual kind of “from scratch” recipe, we don’t list local sources for some of the items below. Instead we’ve provided links to our inspiration or previously posted recipe.
2. Yes, the bleu cheese is necessary.  It’s the bleu cheese and hot peppers that tie the sandwich together.

*****

Fil-Am Pulled Hamonada Sliders
makes 16 sliders with leftover meat and cabbage (delicious over rice)

Ingredients

Pulled Hamonada in Pineapple BBQ sauce
1-2 lbs leftover hamonada (recently posted here)
1 cup hamonada pineapple sauce (cooking liquid from the same post)
1/2 c. ketchup (we recommend homemade or low sugar, like Trader Joe’s)
Hot pepper oil to taste (once again, we recommend homemade, like this one from Ms. Adventures in Italy.)

Ginger Red Cabbage Slaw (inspired by Munch+Nibble)
1/4 large red cabbage, thin sliced
1 medium carrot, grated
1/2 c. rice vinegar
2 T. sugar
1 T. minced garlic
2 t. powdered ginger
1 t. salt

Sandwiches
Pulled Hamonada
Slaw
Bleu cheese, crumbled or sliced
Habenero slices in oil
Rice flour rolls

1. Bake Rolls

• I used rolls similar to these from Art of Gluten-Free Baking, but without dairy and cut like pandesal.

2. Make Red Cabbage Slaw (inspired by Munch+Nibble)

• Shred cabbage and carrots. Mix vinegar, sugar, ginger, garlic and salt.
• Pour vinegar mixture over cabbage. Mix well.
• Refrigerate until needed.

3. Bake pork

• Combine pork, sauce and ketchup in an 8×8 baking dish. Bake at 300 for 1 hour.
• Pull pork apart with forks.  Mix well with sauce.

4. Assemble Sandwiches

• Slice rolls. Layer pork, then bleu cheese, then slaw.   Top with Habanero slice and oil.

Hamonada: Braised Pineapple Pork

Roast out of the oven. Courtesy of Mary @ the Kensington Prospect

Let’s revisit the Easter ham, shall we? You know the one – its spiral cut, smoked and cured within an inch of its life, crusted in brown sugar and, if not handled with care, dry. This ham and I have crossed paths many times.  We’ve had some really good times.  We’ve had some not so good times.  We thought about getting together again this Easter, but Raphe and I decided that it’s time to move on to something more moist, less salty and just more… interesting.

Trimming the ham. Sanitize the sink really really well both before and after this.

This is when I remembered hamonada, the sweet and savory braised hamonada my aunt always prepared for New Year’s celebrations.  It’s essentially pork braised within an inch of its life in pineapple juice and sugar.  A perfect solution to tough, dry hams.

Adding the pineapple juice

The decision to make a hamonada was not made lightly because, in all honesty, my track record with hamonada sucks.  I first made it for New Years in 2005-2006.  The traditional stove method (demonstrated at Asian in America) was fine, but I took the “ham” part a little too seriously.  I simmered a traditional American cured ham in pineapple juice for about an hour and a half.  At the end it tasted like a traditional American cured ham with some salty pineapple juice on the side.  Not what I was going for.

Pour on the Apple Juice

The next attempt took place in early 2007, when a pork shoulder found its way into a roasting pan with some pineapple juice, but only stayed in the oven for the hour and a half necessary for stove top simmering.  The time and the cooking temperature (375?  400?  I can’t quite remember) resulted in a rubbery, dry pork roast.

Halfway done. 2 hours to go.

This time, though, I think I’ve finally got it.  Raphe picked up a beautiful uncured, untrimmed 10lb ham, which we decided to partially trim.  The trimmed side sits in the braising liquid and absorbs all the sweet, sweet flavor.  The untrimmed side protects any exposed meat from drying out and adds natural juices.  We took this ham and braised it at a low temperature (300 degrees F) all freaking day.  It went in the oven at 12:30pm and didn’t emerge until 6pm. This finally gave the desired moisture to the meat. The braising liquid began as pineapple juice and enough apple cider to make 4 cups, seasoned with the usual suspects (vinegar, soy sauce, bay leaf, pepper), as we like to keep extra sugar to a minimum. After 5.5 hours in the oven and 20 min on the stove the mixture reduced to a sweet brown syrup. Finally, a hamonada worthy of a holiday centerpiece.

Over rice and drizzled with pineapple sauce. Courtesy of Mary @ the Kensington Prospect

Notes:

1. Kitchen scissors are indispensable for trimming fat and skin from meat. Get some.
2. In hindsight, I should have just thrown all the pineapple in there without this silly puree business. Next time, next time.
3. Keep in mind that we’re dealing with a very fatty cut of meat here. There will be a good 1/2 c. of fat sitting on top of the sauce at the end. I say embrace it and eat the skin, too. I suppose you can skim off the grease, if you really want to do it. Just don’t tell me about it.

*****
Hamonada
Inspired by the Pork Pina Hamonado from Asian in America and the Braised Pork Shoulder from Vintuba
Serves 10-12

Ingredients	Local sources
1 uncured bone-in ham, 8-10lbs	Pathmark
3lb pineapple pieces or 1 whole pineapple, pureed and separated into pulp and juice	I&D Interfoods
Enough apple juice to make 4 cups when added to reserved pineapple juice	Cortelyou Greenmarket (Red Jacket Orchards)
1/4 c. vinegar	C-town
1/4 c. soy sauce	NY Mart on Ave U
1 large bay leaf	various
2 T minced garlic	C-town
small palm-full of peppercorns	Bobby Dept Store

1. Prep

• Puree pineapple, strain juice from pulp overnight.  Reserve all liquid and 1 cup of pulp.
• Trim skin and fat from half of the ham.  The trimmed half of the ham will sit in the braising liquid and the remaining skin and fat will face up
• Preheat oven to 300 degrees.

2. Brown and combine

• Brown exposed sides of roast in the dutch oven (optional if using a roasting pan that is not stove-top safe)
• Position the ham so that as much sits in the bottom of the dutch over or roasting pan as possible.
• Add all other ingredients to the dutch oven.  You may need to wiggle the roast around to get the liquid on all sides.  Bring to a boil.

3. Braise

• Place in 300 degree oven. Braise for 3.5 hours covered.
• Increase heat to 325. Cook uncovered for 2 more hours to crisp up the skin and reduce the liquid.  Don’t worry about the meat drying out – the layer of skin and fat left on the top of the roast will retain moisture.
• For extra moisture and flavor we “shot up” the roast with some of the cooking liquid.  Raphe is especially fond of this technique.

4. Finish and Serve

• Remove hamonada from oven and let cool until you can safely move the roast to a serving plate – about 10 minutes.  Cover with aluminium, and let rest another 20 minutes.
• If desired, skim some of the fat off the top of the remaining liquid and reduce the pineapple sauce.
• Slice off chunks of pork.  Serve over rice with pineapple sauce.

Estopao: Tangy Filipino Meat Stew

A blurry picture is better than no picture. Perhaps it was all the beer.

I didn’t even know the name of the dish (pronounced es-toe-pow) – let alone the regional variations on the name (it is also known as estopado or estofado) – when I was growing up. Not for lack of eating it – my sister and I would request it regularly. That conversation went something like this:

Me: Hey Mom, could you make that pork stuff with the potatoes that Staci likes?

Mom: What? Estopao?

Me: Yeah, what you just said.

Mom makes a minimalist version with pork or chicken, potatoes, soy sauce and a touch of vinegar. Sometimes peas. Always garlic. My mom isn’t big on measurements or formal recipes in cooking. She prefers to taste her way through a dish, making sure everything tastes “right.” When the home-sickness hit in college, I’d call home for a recipe and Mom would give me some general instructions, leaving me to rely on my memory to reconstruct the correct ratio of ingredients. Estopao was one of the dishes I dutifully reconstructed and, eventually, reinvented for myself. Mom’s instructions to me over the phone went something like this:

Mom: Cup up the pork and put in the pan so it’s a little bit cooked. Then put in a little garlic and soy sauce and then potatoes. Put in enough water and boil it until it’s done.

Me: How much soy sauce?

Mom: You know, until it tastes right.

Me: What about vinegar?

Mom: Just a little.

Me: Anything else?

Mom: It’s good with peas and some carrots. Oh, and you can put some tomato in.

Well, the carrot and tomato was news to me. For my first couple tries, I stuck with the minimalist version I remembered. Later on, I started playing with the dish and incorporated my mom’s suggestions.

The flexibility is what I love most about the dish because it’s the flexibility that reflects the multi-cultural heritage of the Philippines and myself. The pork and fish sauce (used in many recipes, although we rarely had patis in the house I grew up in) represent the southeast Asian and native heritage. The soy sauce speaks for the Chinese influence. The potatoes, tomato and bay leaf are clearly Spanish additions. Through my own experiments, I’ve expanded my mom’s carrot suggestion to include celery and onion as well (the “holy trinity” of French cooking and the flavor base of many of my Irish/Dutch great-grandmother’s recipes). Sometimes I’ll add chile peppers.

The result is something that the people of around me keep asking for.  The meat is tender from the braising, the vegetables fragrant and slightly sweet from browning, the sauce thick and tangy from tomato paste, soy sauce and vinegar flavors marrying.  The potatoes are tender but keep their shape.  The fish sauce adds depth without tasting “fishy.”   A little tapioca flour thickens things up.

We recently discovered that estopao is delicious paired with a pilsner. On a chilly Friday night, we paired it with the Coney Island Mermaid Pils from Schmaltz Brewing Company.  The beer was a crisp, bubbly lager – slightly hoppy, but not too bitter – which was a nice contrast to the heavy meat and potatoes dish.  Rye gives the light pils depth and keeps it from being overpowered by tangy vinegar in the stew.

I made estopao with beef for Raphe’s old roommate once.  Now every time I see him the conversation goes something like this:

Roommate: Hey Marni, can you come over and make that Filipino beef stew stuff?

Me: What?  Estopao?

Roommate: Yeah, that stuff.  It was aaaaaaawwweesome.

And the cycle continues.

Lazy Day Cassoulet and Baby Spinach Salad with Cherry Vinegrette

Goodbye, Winter.

It’s been a good few months. You’ve given us much lovely snow, but much drippy rain. It’s probably best that we go our separate ways.

You’ve aided and abetted many an early night in (not to mention the late mornings). You’ve inspired cookies, muffins, soups and stews. You make that bread hot from the oven just that more tempting. We’ve spent whole lazy weekends under your spell.

We’ve made you one last savory baked dinner. You’ve been begging for a casserole, so we spent one more lazy day in the kitchen for you. We sauteed that holy trinity of French flavors (onions, celery and carrots) in fat rendered from salty bacon, rich chicken legs and sweet bratwurst. We baked the meat under a thick layer of tomatoes and white beans until the chicken practically melted off the bone. Oh, and we topped it with garlic breadcrumbs (your favorite, we know). It warmed the house as it baked all afternoon. We hope you like it (we certainly did).

But it’s time for us bid you adieu. We’ll see you again next year.

Love,
Us

**********

Hello, Spring.

It’s been a while and we’ve missed you. The sun’s almost become a stranger in these short few months.

We’ve been dreaming about your early mornings and late afternoons. We’re yearning for fresh, tender leaves and bright buds.

We know it’s a bit soon for this, but we made you a little something. We hope it doesn’t scare you off, but it helps us remember what it’s like to be warm again. Crisp spinach and tangy goat cheese are such a tease. Toasty walnuts crunch under our teeth and sweet cherry vinegar (made from the cherries we got from you last June) nips at our tongues. We hope you like it (we certainly did).

Hope to see you around here more often.

Love,
Us

Notes: Don’t be intimidated by the length of the ingredient list. The important thing to note is that you’re using some aromatic veggies and meat as a base for the beans. The actual veggies and meat isn’t so important: cassoulet isn’t a fussy dish. We made a lot of changes to the recipe as we went along, since it was hard to follow while we cooked. We added an ingredient list and split the process into four basic sections common to casseroles: 1. Prep, 2. Brown, 3. Bake, 4. Finish. We used a dutch oven, but this could just as easily begin in a skillet and be transferred to a casserole dish or crock pot after the “Brown” steps.