One of my incessant food cravings, whenever I long for my being a "barriotic" or "promdi" is a lunch or supper where in the lowly dulang (literally a low wooden dining table) is set and served a bowl of piping hot soup called tinola or lauya a manok, or a manok adobo. And that the chicken must be, as it should be, a "native" one. Well, the so-called "kamanokan," the free-range almost-wild but domesticated one, of course, the usual poultry "dingo" in the barrios, in the away. As a child in Casantolan, we used to have scores of native chickens, and so, occasionally we have our meaty meals to augment our protein needs as we folks are usually more used to a vegetarian diet then, with the scarcity and expensiveness of meat or fish (or simply because we can't afford it).
And he's here being slowly made into an adobo (sorry, sorry, poor creature, that I came and hungry I came; as a courtesy to its great sacrificial role, I won't show the butchering photos here anymore):
After about an hour or less of slow wood fire cooking, the meat is tender enough, the soup simmered and thickened into just a little broth that literally cooked the chicken in its own oily essence. This adobo version is simple, it's cooked with only the basic condiment and spices of garlic, onions, ginger, and salt. No vinegar and soy sauce. Some call it "white adobo." But I cooked it this way with a purpose: the rest of it (but of course, we Ilokano rural folks are that frugal, you know, we don't consume such a delicious treat at once but we set aside some pieces for the next meals) will be boiled again later as a lauya or tinola complete with green papayas and young sili leaves, and with more ginger for a zest:
And again with my dented tin plate, I made a labay of chicken and rice:
Care to see my labay, here are some of my choice chicken cuts (click photo to enlarge) -- the ulo (head), the karaykay (feet), bagis (intestines), the luppo (thights) and so on. Missing are the kimmol (tail), payak (wings), tengnged (neck), and the prized ones: the dalem (liver) and the batikuleng (gizzard). Those are rightfully set aside to grace the tinola later:
Ah, the nativity of it all, I shall return again to Casantolan, the real return of the native to his native soil and to his native gluttony of sort. :-)
Naadobo a netib a manok. |
And so, on my recent visit to my place, it's SOP that I have to pamper myself a bit and afford a lauya or adobo, what with the fact that when I saw these creatures (photos below), pardon, I saw them dressed and boiling and steaming and wafting that familiar "native" aroma:
So, here's it, I caught my choice one from the brood and imprisoned the poor creature:
And he's here being slowly made into an adobo (sorry, sorry, poor creature, that I came and hungry I came; as a courtesy to its great sacrificial role, I won't show the butchering photos here anymore):
After about an hour or less of slow wood fire cooking, the meat is tender enough, the soup simmered and thickened into just a little broth that literally cooked the chicken in its own oily essence. This adobo version is simple, it's cooked with only the basic condiment and spices of garlic, onions, ginger, and salt. No vinegar and soy sauce. Some call it "white adobo." But I cooked it this way with a purpose: the rest of it (but of course, we Ilokano rural folks are that frugal, you know, we don't consume such a delicious treat at once but we set aside some pieces for the next meals) will be boiled again later as a lauya or tinola complete with green papayas and young sili leaves, and with more ginger for a zest:
And again with my dented tin plate, I made a labay of chicken and rice:
Care to see my labay, here are some of my choice chicken cuts (click photo to enlarge) -- the ulo (head), the karaykay (feet), bagis (intestines), the luppo (thights) and so on. Missing are the kimmol (tail), payak (wings), tengnged (neck), and the prized ones: the dalem (liver) and the batikuleng (gizzard). Those are rightfully set aside to grace the tinola later:
Ah, the nativity of it all, I shall return again to Casantolan, the real return of the native to his native soil and to his native gluttony of sort. :-)
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The best po.
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