Of Tortillas and My Husband’s Lover
Something stupid happened to me one day when I thought it was time to make the tortilla recipe from a Tapas book borrowed from a friend (I am glad she doesn’t seem to have missed her book). Someone said not to lend your books because they never get returned, and that the books in his library are the ones he borrowed from his friends. Anyway, I’d wanted to try this recipe since the day, but each time I thought the timing was perfect for this tortilla, Walter would have some Viennese recipe in mind —his kitchen rules. Walter is my Viennese significant other.
As I arrived at Walter’s garden house, the question of what to have for dinner hung in the air. He suggested the leftover Kari-Kare, but I was hoping for something different. Then, I spotted the Tapas book on the table, and a glimmer of hope sparked in me. Tonight is the night I finally try the tortilla recipe.
The recipe says to boil 2 big potatoes in salted water, let them cool, then peel and dice. 1 large red bell pepper, diced; 2 tomatoes, diced; 1 large onion, chopped; 50 g grated Parmesan cheese; 6 eggs whisked; 150 g Spanish chorizo, diced; salt and pepper; 5 tbsp olive oil.
Heat the oil in a large non-stick skillet. Add the onions and tomatoes and stir gently for five minutes or until soft. Add the thinly sliced chorizos to the skillet and cook for another 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the boiled, diced potatoes, lightly pressing them down, then spread the beaten eggs, seasoned with salt and pepper, over the mixture and cook over moderate heat for about 5 minutes. Sprinkle a generous amount of parmesan and bake in the middle level of the oven until the cheese has melted. Cut into wedges and serve either warm or cold.
I love mine topped with arugula and sprinkled with fresh parmesan, a pinch of salt and pepper, and a dash of olive oil. What the heck is arugula? My folks and friends back home had no clue until I saw them at a Sunday market. So I bought some and put them on the table as a salad—their introduction to this green. No one but me was begeistert (German for “thrilled” or “enthusiastic”). It is a leafy green with a tart, bitter, peppery flavor. The taste reminds me of walnuts. I remember bringing home a packet of the seeds and planting them in my garden. They grew abundantly until my gardener took them for weeds and cut them drastically.
There was enough time to tackle the tortilla challenge, so I sat at the computer to catch up on the latest from Eric and Vincent on YouTube. No clue? That was when everyone was talking about that Philippine telenovela called My Husband’s Lover. Watching it, you can forget even the best tortilla of your life. You’ll get hooked, trust me!
“About time you began cooking!” Walter startled me.
However, a new challenge presented itself. I was out of Spanish chorizos. But then, a stroke of inspiration hit me. Why not use the Bulacan longanisas I had bought from a local vendor? This unexpected twist in the recipe added a new layer of excitement to the cooking process.
1 was chopping the onions when it occurred to me that Walter does not eat anything with fried onions in it, blaming a traumatic experience from his childhood. Hello, Nancy Reyes Lumen; no onions this time! I remember the Adobo Queen invited Walter to sit on the panel of her TV cooking show to give a verdict on what her guest cook would prepare on that particular episode. Onion soup! Walter was a sight to behold, watching the cook in his element. When the soup was ready, Walter was asked to taste it. He took a spoonful which barely touched his lips. Pretending to be thrilled, he gave a thumbs up and said, “Super delicious!” I stifled a laugh when I saw him lift a hand to his mouth to hide a smirk. Hilarious!
“Don’t worry about me; you may. I would have the leftover kare-kare,” Walter said when he saw me stop chopping and look at him for approval. Onion or no onions?
Let the cooking begin.
Slicing longanisas thinly to 1 cm was challenging due to the elastic casing. Or maybe because my knife had a dull blade. I learned that pan-frying the sausages helps. I remember how our cook at home in the Philippines would cook longanisas. She would simmer and poke them with a fork to prevent the skin from breaking while frying them in little oil. To hasten cooking, I thought of dropping my longanisas into piping-hot oil, heaps, which instantly splashed in all directions. I had blisters on my skin, and Walter’s kitchen was messy when I was done frying. There must be a better way to fry longanisas. But that’s the beauty of cooking. The learning process is as necessary as the end result, and it’s what keeps us engaged and part of the journey.
After some hit-and-miss with the procedure. Darn you, Lali! Lali is the leading lady in the TV series My Husband’s Lover. The tortilla was ready for the oven. Five minutes, the recipe says. I returned to YouTube, only for Walter to remind me that five minutes were up. With one hand protected by a hand glove, I took the hot pan out of the oven, set it on the kitchen countertop, poked the tortilla with a fork to check that it was done, and lifted the handle with my left bare hand. It took a while before the pain registered in my brain, and I dropped the pan, spitting out expletives that could make President Duterte blush. Fuck you, Eric! Fuck you, Vincent!
Cutting the tortilla with one hand took work. The other was greasy with burn ointment.
Finally, it dawned on me that I could not have my tortilla and your husband at the same time.
April 21, 2013