‘SALTING THE SHRIMPS, MIXING THEM IN THE RICE, AND PLACING ‘EM INTO GLASS JARS’ (a.k.a. Introduction).
Filipinoness is predominantly a Food and a Giving culture. Dining is more of an affair, with tones of leisure while putting pleasure on the stomach and at the same time satisfying curiosity. The Pinoy tastebud operates on an intense, not to mention acquired flavor frequency which registers mostly on the sweet, and the salty to bitter scales. The Balaw‐Balaw is distinguishably Filipino linguistically and palatably. The structure of the concept follows the Inuulit morphology where there is the apparent repetition of the word to coin the concept. As a side dish to fish, fried pork and beef, a condiment to
fried or boiled eggplant, fresh mustard or bitter melon leaves, or a snack with pork rinds, the Balaw‐Balaw is –-- if correctly prepared --‐‐the popular example of the salty‐cheesy‐sour (sometimes containing lightly bitter dimensions) spectrum. It is a fermented preparation of shrimp or fish with rice.
Intended as a mini mock‐ethnography, this discourse attempts to discuss the dual character of Balaw‐Balaw as something popular and notorious in ‘Sauteeing While I hold My Nose’. This segment begins with how to make sense of the psychology of taste acquisition and preferences. With this foundation, the treatise proceeds with food as an extension of Filipino humor as well as a marker of nationality. It is one of the intimate parts of the ethnography as I’ve included myself and my family members in the recording of observations. What follows is a more theoretical glimpse into the possible reasons behind the notoriety of balaw‐balaw, adapting a permutation of Mary Douglas’ concept of Pollution and Purity. Balaw‐Balaw’s transformations ‐‐‐ as a commodity which had been given a makeover from the market to the grocer, is discussed in the segment ‘Steaming Clay Pots’. The main premise advanced here is how presentation from market to table plays a key role in creating an open mind towards exotic food dishes. This is mostly memory work along with conversations with my mother, and an hour of digging into family archives for photos immortalizing the three‐year business experience.
Structure‐wise, inclusive of which is the writer’s voice employed, it has been a long time since I have written and submitted a creative paper. I thought I’d go with an informal approach for a refreshing read. This is my first attempt at a creative paper which employs a semi‐observational comedy approach along the lines of Me pretending I’m Anthony Bourdain, flavored with Ron White and some Gabriel Iglesias.
When I said ‘We’, I make special mention to the foreign yet biologically Filipino, or those who have married a Filipino/‐a and consequently married into the Philippine culture. I am also addressing my fellow Filipinos whose palate and preferences are either unfamiliar with this dish or other‐nationized* ‐‐‐consider this discourse an smart side‐dish to this side‐dish, as well as a staple of humor for the patrons.
I hope my audience has just as much fun reading this mini‐ethnography as I did writing it.
Mangan tana!
‘SAUTEEING WHILE I HOLD MY NOSE’.
When I was a little girl back in California, I dreaded three‐fourths of the process of balaw‐balaw preparation. Frankly, I still do today… One‐fourth was pure interest, as I was mesmerized by the movement of my mother’s hands in the mixture of freshly cooked white rice, bamboo shoots, and the little shrimp. What of the three‐fourths? A fluxed period of waiting for the preparation to ferment in medium‐sized glass jars ‐‐‐ these jars I came to recognize as previously containing Best Foods mayonnaise in all its creamy goodness, now a container of what will be a stinky menace in a manner of 07 days… The waiting time did not go idly by ‐‐‐ as the days progressed, the jars periodically released light puffs, best described as a guessing game of ‘Who Farted?’ which more or less foreshadowed what smell to come.. Then comes Sautee Day, I ritualistically lock myself in my room and plug up the cracks and spaces around the door jamb ‐‐‐ I just couldn’t stand the smell. I still can’t today.
And there sat in the fridge were six 405‐gram bottles of Intimidation in all its marbled, golden glory. Amusingly enough, and I kid you not, the smell was so fine that it had to a degree, permeated through its container. Everything its vapor touched ‐‐‐ containers came to smell like its contained mildly bitter, tomatoey‐garlicky tones ‐‐‐ even a bag of chips would slightly adapt that olfactory flavor. Imagine… a new flavor of Lays ‐‐‐‐ Sour Cream & Balaw‐Balaw.. apple slices and balaw‐balaw ‐‐‐‐ Screw Philly cream cheese..
Explaining acquired taste. I always thought that to Dine was an affair which involved ideally five out of the five senses we are given ‐‐‐ that taste is last where deliciousness involved the cognizance of texture, visual appeal, the sound of the food as it is being prepared (the dish itself, or preparing a bite which would go into the mouth in a manner of seconds), and equally critical to visual appeal is the factor of smell.
In the psychology of taste, there are three possible dislike reactions towards sampling foods which are considerably strange to one’s palate. The first typical dislike is due to acquired taste, where the person tried the dish and simply does not appreciate its qualities. The dislike is usually rooted in disagreement on smell, texture, and flavor. It is something which is believed to develop over time and with age, an adjustment of palate and maturity. Hopefully, with time a person is able to condition him or herself so as to set aside prejudices clouding perception of a potentially promising culinary encounter. Further adding to the complication is how there is the tendency to avert from particular foods which may differ from palatal expectation.
But this is not to be mistaken for taste aversion. Taste aversions are created in the human mind which tells people of how behavior is learned and repeated. The mechanism behind TA is similar to classical conditioning. A matter of personal experience, years ago I had managed to like eating veggie
Kare‐Kare with a small amount of bagoong, just enough to taste. It wasn’t really in my diet, but for some reason I had decided to eat that dish for lunch. Some hours later I had felt sick in my stomach and had to an extent experienced a degree of dizziness. I had felt like I had this bad taste in my mouth which was salty and bitter. I had eaten the dish before I knew I was at the onset of a metaphysical sickness ‐‐‐ It is after all the Philippines, and that day I found myself subject to Usog(?). Since then, I couldn’t eat Kare‐Kare again. The likely psychological explanation may be that we human beings have a strong need to stay alive by eating things that won’t make us sick. If we eat something, and, in the course of digestion that something makes us ill, we’ll often remember it for years. From then on, the human brain knows how to associate that smell and taste with a food that caused illness. Food aversions may be irrational, however it also means that the brain is just trying to do its part to keep its human alive [Olivarez: 2010].
Lastly, how would one know the difference between acquired taste and merely being a picky eater? The simplest explanation at the back of any contemplative mind would be that it all lies on whether or not one had exerted the effort of tasting the dish first before arriving at the conclusion that it’s just absolutely disagreeable.
Professor Andy Taylor of the University of Nottingham had coined a clever word around 2009‐ish to refer to a possible postulate behind why people crave or favor a particular flavor sensation. The Taste Dialect are just as with spoken dialects, where accent is placed on different syllables and vowel formations. People from different regions have developed enhanced sensitivities to certain taste sensations and seek foods that trigger these [Halliday: 2009]. Take for instance Gilroy and its garlic innovations considering that Gilroy is the Garlic capital of California. Or perhaps a local example – Bicol is the chili pepper capital of the Philippines, explaining the passion for spice. Knowing that Balaw‐Balaw is also a regional taste (central Luzon) the fact a really good preparation is characteristically rich, this richness is one aspect which is appreciated by people who eat it.
The idea of the ‘acquired taste’ and adjustment isn’t purely a matter of taste‐bud maturity, but it has a sense of the socio‐psychological. One aspect which makes an initially unlovable dish popular is its level of difficulty in both preparation, its contents, and in the ability to eat it. Not everyone can eat it. It is therefore an experience. Frankly, I’ve tried it twice, with a three year interval ‐‐‐ my tastebuds have clearly not matured yet.
Filipino Humour in a Rite of Passage. What furthers the Filipinoness of this dish is the menacing spirit incorporated by some who bear close ties with non‐Filipinos (more specifically speaking, non‐Filipino significant others).
There is the joy, curiosity and the fascination in seeing the reaction of non‐Filipinos consume the preparation. Filipino humour therefore has an additional medium ‐‐‐ an indirect sense of humor expressed through food. My fiancé still teases me to this day about putting my tastebuds to the test once more ‐‐‐ maybe this time I would come to appreciate how much a treat burong hipon really is. But I have to say I really did try, and I’ve no luck yet.
Food as a Marker of Nationality: A Border Security Story. Two aunts and an uncle of mine from the mother side decided to spend summer in California back in 1994. For most of the duration, they were to stay at my family’s place in San Jose. And the typical practice of Philippine visitors was the Alisbayan box, which, much like its twin the Balikbayan box, was generally believed to contain the commodified essence of the Philippines. Filipinoness involves the instinct to share, which makes it also a giving culture, and in the case of my family, particularly the giving of food. It is a prideful presentation of what there is in the Philippines that isn’t available in the United States. Even if there are now numerous establishments carrying products catering to the Filipino taste, there is still that idea of authenticity if the product arrives in one’s home in an Alisbayan box, and more or less in newspaper wrapping.
And so they reach the Customs area for routine inspection of baggage.
The security personnel amuse themselves in a game of ‘guess the likely
contents of the Alisbayan Box’. They were right on the money when it
came to the Tuyo or dried fish, the Hopia ‐‐‐‐ to which they would automatically ask ‘bah‐boy?’, Balut, and the pickled mango Atsara. Think
back: California in 1994, and these Westerners are already acquainted
with what is considered as most of the typical ‘bilin’. Filipino
travelers were primarily identified by Tuyo.
One thing that they weren’t able to guess was the contents of an
air‐tight, zip‐top bag. This particular item was found spread in one of
the corners of the box, meticulously wrapped with an outer layer of
newspaper. Now, the packaging itself has nothing to do with nostalgia
but of practicality ‐‐‐ the zip top bag was innovative as it did not add
weight, and the newspaper was a safety to absorb leakage. The customs
security personnel were particularly curious with this item. How could
they not? It was new. And so they unwrap the newspaper to find a golden,
oily, porridge mixture.
My uncle did his best to explain what it was, in a manner that did not
invite raising a brow. Logically, all these people had to know was that
this item is fully‐cooked and therefore poses no threat to national
security at all (well, perhaps save for occasional counts of public
nuisance). But no~… Customs personnel insists opening the package. He
receives one final warning: ‘You’ll be sorry~’… The dude took out this
Swiss army knife and began cutting through one end of the zip‐top bag.
Some of the red oil spills
out, followed by that lovely smell… And the look on that man’s face ‐‐‐‐
P‐R‐I‐C‐E‐L‐E‐S‐S. The first thing that instinctively came out of this
man’s mouth were the words YYUUUCCKK!~ What is this?! With this matching hand gesture ‐‐‐ the kind where his fingers are spread far apart and he examines them. You
know what they say ‐‐‐‐ Curiosity kills the cat, but this time satisfaction didn’t bring it back. So much for nine lives… Balaw‐Balaw is now an addition to that list of Filipinoness identifiers, and a notorious one at that.
‘Kamayan’ with Tita Meh (Mary Douglas). It’s a bold statement coming from someone who doesn’t eat balaw‐balaw, but I think I can say it comfortably as an observation ‐‐‐ traditional dishes with balaw‐balaw on the side are best eaten using the hands. I bet Tita Meh [1984] would have something to say. She is known for her cerebrations on her twin concepts of Purity and Pollution, and I was particularly interested in seeing how fluid these are and to what extent could these be applied or permutated. I see a cultural difference along the axis of culinary order and disorder. In the selection of “danger” how do we decide what ought to be normal? The question of normality is relative per culture, and although I was born and raised with Philippine values and positive attitudes, my orientation towards food was a balance of Philippine specialties and a mix of Western tastes, and the case for both dish personalities was that I saw the food prepared in the popular, conventional sense. What I wasn’t really accustomed to was the idea of fermentation ‐‐‐ which is, if you think about it, a nice sounding word compared to outrightly saying ‘rotting food’. Tita Meh would perhaps tell me ‘Iha, ang iisipin mo pag fermented ang pag‐kain, dumaan naman siya sa ligtas na paraan. Kaya, maari itong kainin.’ [Rough Trans. Now Young Lady, just think of it this way: if the food is fermented, it could be eaten as long as it goes through some cooking procedure] Me: (Marunong pala mag‐Tagalog si Mary Douglas) [Trans. Didn't know Mary Douglas could speak Tagalog]. This would probably be her attitude towards the Balaw‐Balaw before she even sees it.
The thing with Balaw‐Balaw is that it isn’t visually appealing. There is the awareness that the Balaw‐Balaw visually doesn’t stimulate the appetite of those who are unfamiliar with it because of the smell and the apparent texture and consistency of vomit (as some would say). There is this anchored
thinking and association of ‘eating pollution’ two ways: first, it is a rotted preparation which is only later cooked, and secondly, looks like human biological material expelled during certain case scenarios ‐‐‐ where applicable here is the tendency to vomit as a natural response to food poisoning, a bodily defense measure.
[See Part II for the segments 'Steaming Clay Pots' and 'Personal Reflections' as well as the listing of References]
