Chicken feet for the Soul

Count yours truly among the valiant men of the kitchen, who believe recipes are meant to be shared, not trade secrets to be guarded, including dish ‘rescue’ stories like the one Marc had ably cited. Ordinary, everyday cooking — as opposed to preparing gourmet feasts — allows us a wide margin of error, so to speak, and an easy opportunity to experiment, improvise, substitute, conceal, and, as in most solitary pleasures, cheat.

How do you rescue your sinigang na tilapia, for example, when the bitter ‘’apdo’’ has spoiled the broth?

First, you blame the fishwife who sold you the fish without thoroughly gutting it, for having burst the delicate sac of bile in the course of plucking out the gills.

Then you face the problem at hand. You take a sip of the broth, then check if the bitter aftertaste has spread even to the veggies. Most of the time the veggies get spared, and so you just work on the soup base.

Slowly, preferably cup by cup, you get rid of the nasty broth and compensate with an equal pouring of plain water. From hereon it becomes a matter of regaining the lost flavors, and so you make up by tossing in extra bits of crushed garlic, chopped onions and tomatoes. The lost sourness of tamarind you can recover with calamansi, a weaker substitute, but enough to hide the mistake. But with the salt, be careful with the salt, for often an extra pinch would no longer be necessary since our remedies need not address all the taste buds here.

Finally, you bring everything to a new, restorative boil.

When the wife finally gets home looking forward to a hot bowl, you of course don’t say a word. Offer her green mango and bagoong as appetizer for further misdirection.

The next day you confront the fishwife.

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