NOT THAT BLOODY AFTER ALL

DINUGUAN. It is a local dish whose origin is vague although believed to have first introduced in the main Philippine island of Luzon and then spread in other parts of the country based on many travellers’ stories. This native dish had for some time earned controversy for its main ingredient – fresh animal blood. In the Philippines, members of the locally founded religious sect, Iglesia ni Cristo, are forbidden to eat “dinuguan” for reasons unclear to the rest of the Filipinos.
Dinuguan has different versions. It is also called “tinumis” in Nueva Ecija. Sometimes, in my native Bulacan, it was erstwhile known as “tinadtad” because presumably of the painstakingly chopped parts of the meat – pork or beef. In my sojourn in some Ilocano-dominated places, they call it “dinardaraan”, a direct translation of the Tagalog’s “dugo” or blood.

Probably for its ethnic character, or call it exoticism, dinuguann has easily become a favorite of many Filipinos alongside the native pinakbet, adobo, sinigang and litson. Enter a fast food restaurant and even middle-class hotels in many Philippine provinces and you will chance “dinuguan” among the list of the food they offer to guests locals and foreigns alike.

I cook dinuguan the way I learned it from my late mother Charing. Her dinuguan is a departure from the traditional pork loin or ox entrails concoction. Hers is a mixture of thinly chopped pork loin and beef sautéed in crushed garlic, paper-thinned onion and sliced tomato. Cooking dinuguan is an experience once you encounter you will no longer forget the rest of your life – believe me. It is basically because you will feel elated when your guests volunteer their frank opinion that sums up you are a good cook anyway.

Whenever I want to cook dinuguan I would run to my suki ( the meat vendor I patronize in Cabanatuan wet market) Aling Nieves and tell her what I wanted. She would readily chop the meat – choice pork part, a little fat, liver, and beef; pack it and add the pig’s blood still warm and partly coagulated. I would proceed to the vegetable section to buy some tomatoes and green pepper.

At home, I would prepare the ingredients at once and start cooking by heating the pan to medium before pouring the oil. Put the garlic, then onion, and tomato. The meat next and let it become tender while sautéing. When tender, add a small amount of vinegar – preferably the naturally fermented like the sukang Paombong made from nipa juice or the sukang Iloko, from sugar cane, to have a distinctive exotic taste. When the vinegar blends well with the meat after about 20 minutes on the medium heated pan, place the blood and start stirring until it thickens. The thicker the dinuguan, the tastier it is when poured on the steaming white rice.
Left-over dinuguan proves more delicious. You cannot afford to let it go to kitchen waste bin. That’s forbidden! Eat your dinuguan until the kingdom come.