New Year, same me! I’m back from the depths of termite misery and catching COVID over the new year. It’s safe to say, this year is already better than the last.
The holiday break proved to be fueled by anxiety about being back home in México while our house in Long Beach was tented and treated for termites. I had nightmares that ghostly figures broke into our house (were they aliens? grays? ). I’ll never know, but they were very real in my dreams. Thankfully, not in real life.
Re-organizing my entire pantry, and moving back into an empty kitchen wasn’t that awful of a task for this Virgo. I loved the discovery of the three tubs of tamarind paste I had forgotten about; and the few too many bottles of almond, walnut, and pistachio oils. My label maker was also out in full force. But there was this one particularly large bottle that got me back from my cooking hiatus: coconut vinegar.
Anytime I’m near a Filipino market I grab a big bottle of this tropical vinegar. Its subtly sweet and nutty flavor is one of my favorite ways to add acid to dressings, marinades, and sauces. In the coconut-producing region of Colima, México, they make tuba; one of the last vestiges of the Filipino heritage on Mexico’s coast. Coconuts arrived in coastal Mexico from the Philippines thanks to a trade route that connected Manila and Acapulco for more than 2 ½ centuries.
Tuba is a beverage you find all over the coasts of Colima and Jalisco made from the sap of palm trees. Once it turns into vinegar, it gets added to an adobo made with guajillo chiles, ginger, garlic, and warm spices to marinate the pork for Colima’s signature dish, Tatemado de Colima.
In my rendition of this dish, I fortify the adobo with coconut milk for a silky sauce because some things don’t change and my coconut obsession is very much going strong into 2024. The adobo is more reminiscent of a Panang curry than any Mexican sauce you’ve had in a braise. The flavors are rich but deliciously balanced by the generous amount of tangy coconut vinegar and fresh ginger. Its sharpness magically disappears into the mix.
A long cooking dish isn’t where my mind is in the New Year, so I swapped the traditional pork in this dish for my favorite winter vegetable: cabbage. I char it on a skillet and then bathe it in the adobo before roasting it in the oven. It’s meaty, rich, and so delicious that it might trick you into making an accidental vegetarian dish, oopsie. But that’s when you flip it on its head and perhaps sprinkle a handful of crushed chicharrón for a savory crunchy moment.
Or you can keep veg and don’t look back.
Thank you for sticking with me.
XO