After chowing down the hot and sour soups of Thailand and China, I continued poking my nose into the pots and cauldrons of the Orient, searching for the next aromatic bouquet that, enhanced by a souring agent, would produce the kind of synergy that made my taste buds sigh with smug contentment.
I was therefore delighted to discover a tradition of diverse soured broths hailing from the Philippines. From tamarind and calamansi, to guava and unripe mango, it seemed that the Filipino had comprehensively scoured their islands for every fruit that might lend appetizing acidic notes to their pots of simmering viands. And that made me very happy.
Today’s dish comes to us from the Philippines, or as we’ll soon see, not exactly from the Philippines, but at least in part from the Filipino. It contains miso, something decidedly Japanese, and yet not definitively un-Filipino. In fact, Filipino cuisine is a wonderful amalgamation of rogue elements from various cultures and traditions that came together through trade, colonization and migration. As one article puts it, it was Asian Fusion before “Asian Fusion” was a thing. It is a constantly evolving culinary tradition where every dish, it seems, tells a story of the unique movement and interaction of people, cultures, ideas and products around the world and back again, across the centuries.
The name sinigang, derived from the Tagalog verb sigang (to stew), is a term that encompasses a variety of Filipino soups and stews characterized by an acidic broth and starring a particular kind of meat or seafood. According to Marvin Gapultos, author of the Filipino cookbook Adobo Road, the probable origin of this particular version of sinigang, which has been popular for at least a few decades now, is not even the Philippines but rather, in salmon canneries of Alaska. In the 1920s and 1930s, many Filipino migrants found seasonal work there alongside the Japanese, where cultural exchanges are likely to have occurred amidst the accessibility of scraps of fresh salmon and the growling stomachs occasioned by the long hours of labour.
Acid + Fragrance. Summarized. And Simmered.
Thai Tom Yum
Aromatic bouquet: lemongrass, galangal, kaffir lime leaves, fish sauce cilantro
Souring agent: lime juice
Chinese Hot and Sour Soup
Aromatic bouquet: wood-ear mushroom, shiitake, lily buds, toasted sesame oil, cilantro
Souring agent: black vinegar
Today’s Sinigang
Aromatic bouquet: miso, shallots, fish sauce, horseradish
Souring agent: tamarind paste and calamansi juice
Souring Agent #1 — Tamarind Paste
Newton, Amanda Almira (1908). Tamarindus indica. U.S. Department of Agriculture Pomological Watercolor Collection. Rare and Special Collections, National Agricultural Library, Beltsville, MD 20705.
Tamarind (Tamarindus indica), is a pod-like fruit that contains a series of seeds surrounded by dark-coloured pulp. This sour pulp is used in a variety of savory preparations across South and Southeast Asia and the Pacific, from the chutneys and curries of India and Pakistan to the soups of Indonesia and the Philippines. It is also a key ingredient in Worcestershire Sauce, as I mentioned here. You can sometimes find dried tamarind pods in Asian markets, but I like to stock the ready-made paste in my fridge for ease of use. You can find tamarind paste in Asian or Indian markets. I like to keep an eye on the ingredients and choose brands that use only tamarind pulp and water in their preparations.
Before we talk about our second souring agent…
Let’s Talk About (Citrus) Sex
I am always astounded by the variety of citrus fruit utilized in cuisines around the globe, and increasingly, at how many of those varieties are available in North American markets and supermarkets. From tangelos and pomelos, to kaffir limes and Buddha’s hands, my world of citrus has expanded much beyond the flavours of Five Alive that I used to drink as a kid.
Although there are thousands of species of wild citrus, we can trace the origin of most of the citrus we consume today to five ancestral species (none of which, by the way, are found in Five Alive): kumquat, papeda, citron, pomelo and mandarin.
Because citrus species are highly prone to mutation as well as uniquely sexually compatible with one another, thousands of years of genetic mixing has seen the proliferation of citrus species. More recently, domestication has given rise to all kinds of artificial hybrids.
Souring Agent # 2 –Calamondin / Calamansi
Passmore, Deborah Griscom (1919). Citrofortunella microcarpa. U.S. Department of Agriculture Pomological Watercolor Collection. Rare and Special Collections, National Agricultural Library, Beltsville, MD 20705.
The calamansi (Citrofortunella microcarpa), sometimes called calamondin, is a small citrus fruit belonging to the genus Citrofortunella, a grouping coined to designate hybrids of the kumquat (Fortunella spp.), that cute little citrus fruit with edible peel and a hardiness to cold lacking in other citrus species. Most citrofortunella species are in fact the man-made products of recent experimentation, which have produced hardy, ornamental plants with cute monikers such as the limequat, orangequat and sunquat.
Passmore, Deborah Griscom (1902) Fortunella spp. U.S. Department of Agriculture Pomological Watercolor Collection. Rare and Special Collections, National Agricultural Library, Beltsville, MD 20705
But the calamansi is a much older hybrid, native to the Philippines and the surrounding regions. It is a cross between the kumquat and the mandarin. Its peel, lime-green for most of its lifetime, turns golden orange in its last stage of maturation. Regardless of whether it appears on your cutting board as a small lime or a minuscule orange, slice through it and you will find bright orange flesh inside. Don’t be fooled by its candy hue and sweet fragrance though: the calamansi is more tart than it is sweet.
I love this soup and have made it repeatedly for friends. It is a relatively quick affair, and, as long as you prepare all of the ingredients in advance, easy to execute. The broth is tangy, thanks to the tamarind and calamansi, while the horseradish adds a surprising bite. The cloud of miso smooths out the flavours and enhances the sweetness of its many fruits.
Joëlle
Serves 2
Salmon simmered in in a tangy tamarind and calamansi broth. Fresh horseradish adds a surprising bite, while a cloud of miso smooths out the flavours and enhances the sweetness of this soup's many fruits.
Ingredients
- Salmon fillet, skin on, cut into bite-sized pieces
- Black pepper
- 1-2 shallots, thinly sliced
- 1 garlic clove
- 1 roma tomato, quartered
- 1/4 cup dry white wine or rice wine
- 1 cup water
- 1/3 cup daikon radish, cut into thin quarter-moons
- 6 cherry tomatoes, halved
- 2 shanghai bok choy (or other Asian green)
- 6 calamansi, juiced
- 1 tsp tamarind paste
- Fish sauce, to taste
- 1 tbsp miso (I used 1/2 white and 1/2 red)
- 1 tbsp grated horseradish, or to taste
Instructions
- Season the salmon pieces with black pepper. Set aside.
- Heat oil in a pot over medium-high heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook for 3-5 minutes, or until the onion becomes soft and translucent
- Add the roma tomato and cook a few more minutes, until the tomatoes start to release some of their liquid.
- Deglaze the pot with wine, stirring to scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Bring the alcohol to a boil.
- Add water and bring the pot to a simmer. Lower the heat to medium-low.
- Add daikon, and simmer with the lid on for about 10 minutes, until the daikon is soft and cooked through.
- Remove the lid and mix in salmon, cherry tomatoes and greens. Cook for 3 minutes more and remove the pot from the heat.
- Stir in miso, fish sauce, tamarind paste, calamansi juice and horseradish, tasting and adjusting the seasonings to your preferences.
- Serve immediately.
References
Gapultos, M. (2013). The Adobo Road Cookbook: A Filipino food journey-From food blog. to food truck. and beyond. Tokyo: Tuttle Publishing.
Stone, D. (2017, February). For Citrus, It’s All Relative. National Geographic, 231(02), 20-21.
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