Working It

Or Kamangian.

That’s how we Kapampangans call our beloved sitaw (or string beans or long beans, if you’re in english-speaking territory). When we moved here to the US, I had the misfortune of moving to a State where sitaws were only intermittently sold in our suking oriental store. Sometimes, I’d have to wait weeks before sitaw became available. In its absence, I’ve learned to substitute green beans for it - Sinigang with green beans, Kare-kare with green beans, Pinakbet with green beans . It worked, I guess, but it wasn’t the same.

It’s my first time to join the Lasang Pinoy challenge and, for it’s 18th round, Toni is rounding up gastronomically titillating entries starring: veggies!

I am not like my Daras (Aunts), who have the natural, uncanny, talent of turning any edible thing into a meal fit for any piyesta. Even something as simple as a sitaw leaves lasting memories both in the tummy and in the heart.

While I was growing up, sitaw was only one of the three gulays I would eat (the other two were kangkong and repolyo). I loved helping to cut the beans into those pretty two-inchers. Snap, snap, snap! Sometimes, I would take a bungkos of sitaw and pretend that it was a pom-pom. Or a wig. Or a walis tingting. Or a grass skirt. Or I would pin it like a tail on my brother - the donkey.

Life in the province was hard. It was quite seldom that we had any meat as part of our diet, so we mostly had fish (fresh from the river or pond) and paired with some veggie plucked from the backyard. And because I loved sitaw, my aunts wouldn’t think twice about cooking a side of adobong kamangyang, just for me. With mainit na kanin and crispy fried galunggong or tilapia, it’s enough to guarantee my return visit to the province, oh, every weekend.

The recipe is pretty simple and straighforward: just sautee garlic and lots of onions, add soy sauce, then throw in the 2-inch sitaws, and a sandok-full of vinegar. Kulo, kulo! That’s it.

They even save some kamangyang for themselves to boil in water, together with eggplants and ampalaya, as a perfect partner of buro or balo-balo (fermented something that smells like it needs rexona or something).

On special occasions, guisadong sitaw awaits me: kamangyang and little pork pieces sauteed to perfection. Sarap!

I can very well say that every inch of sitaw equals every warm yummy homecoming I’ve ever had. Home, as only my lovely aunts could make it.

I have to apologize, though, I don’t have a picture to share with you right now because sitaws are currently banned from our house. The last time we were in Pinas, the doctors found out that hubby had very high (really, really high) uric acid levels in his system. The first thing to avoid on the list: kamangyang (and other beanie veggies). I guess, even if gulays are good for the health, too much of a good thing isn’t really good either.

Now, we can’t even have sitaw in our Sinigang, Kare-kare, and Pakbet. If it felt weird with the green beans before, now it just feels kulang (like singing Bahay Kubo without sitaw in the lyrics, doesn’t it feel all wrong?). If we continue on like this, how would Ninna learn to find the joy in nibbling on sitaw? As it is, she will only eat kangkong and repolyo.

So maybe this is why I wrote about sitaw, because I (subconsciously) miss it.

Hmmm, maybe I need a new wig…

MrsWorkingGirl :: May.23.2007 :: MeMeMee :: 17 Comments »