A pineapple saga
Nose to tail? More like (pineapple) eye to rind.
Lately, I've been thinking of how leaving 'home' (Singapore) to make another (San Francisco) in my mid / late 30sh has changed the way I eat, and think about food.
For one, I've been exposed to some ingredients and cuisines that I was simply too far from, specifically the ingredients and flavor profiles of the Americas. Beans and corn now make up a larger part of my diet. I even started making my own tortillas, too.
And for the ingredients and cuisines that I know well already, the very act of being so far from 'home' means that I've been doubling down, and learning much more about what I know. In ways that I'm certain I might not bother with if I was surrounded by all of that food culture.
All to say, if I had not left Singapore and Malaysia, and that part of the world that I call home, I would not have learned to make any of my favorite foods. Why would I, when great food is so easily available, and cheap? I can simply walk downstairs in my pajamas and get better noodles, tarts, snacks, braised dishes, in more cuisines and variety than I can personally name.
That's how I found myself making pineapple tarts last weekend. Not pineapple cakes, Taiwanese style, which I consider a completely different pastry. Peranakan-style pineapple tarts, with a buttery fatty pastry and a slightly spicy pineapple compote, preferably shaped like a flower lattice on an open face tart, are the pineapple tarts that comfort me.
First, I procured pineapples. My neighborhood grocery store happens to have good ones, for cheap. Then, I cut them up and removed the eyes.
And grated the pineapple flesh by hand. Many people use food processors, and that's fine, but my take on making food from 'home' is that if I'm going to be making it from scratch anyway, I might as well do it the old school way: by hand, with mortars and pestles, with spice blends I make with whole fresh spices. No shortcuts, but no judgement if you do.
Then I cooked down the pineapple gratings with brown sugar, pandan leaves and a bunch of spices. From two medium-sized pineapples, I got around a pound and a bit (576 grams) of pineapple compote.
For the pastry, since it was my first time, I wanted to try both the closed 'golf ball' style as well as the open-face style. I made a shortcrust with flour, butter.
Lastly, I put all the pineapple rinds, covered with water, added some brown sugar, and all the spices I fished out from my pineapple jam. To make tepache, a fermented pineapple drink that I love from Mexico. With leftover tepache, I might try to make gallo en chicha, a Salvadoran and Guatemalan specialty where rooster or chicken is stewed in a fermented drink, usually corn.
While all of this took some time, I'm glad I took on this large project. It's not easy (or possible?) to get the Singaporean / Malaysian / Indonesian style pineapple tarts where I live. So it was the only way I could have had a taste of them over the Lunar New Year, when they are traditionally eaten.
Yet another case of you don't know what you've got until you don't have them anymore.
Why pineapples?
Pineapples are often associated with the Lunar New Year. The word for pineapple in Hokkien and other Min Nan languages is ông-lâi, which sounds just like ōng-lâi, which means wealth and prosperity coming to you.
Latitudes of longing
While taking on this monstrously large project, it also got me thinking about how some of my favorite foods and flavors have to do with the Latin American - Asian links. Pineapples are not native to Asia, but arrived with Portuguese merchants in the 16th century. Just like chilli, tomato, potato: a lot of the food I love from Asia would be unthinkable without this culinary exchange.
Even today, I keep running into examples of how I love the intersection of Latin American and Asian foods and ingredients and flavors. I recently found myself telling a friend, a new immigrant to California, that if he ever missed Malay food he should do as I do sometimes: go to a Mexican restaurant, get a rice plate with a side of beef and vegetables. That plate would come with beans, which would be just about the only completely alien ingredient or flavor or texture (not that many savory bean dishes in Southeast Asia). Everything else: the salsas, the spices, the rice, the meats, the vegetables, all taste of home. Same with Southern food, as well.
I once heard a chef talk about how food at the same latitude is similar: and that's stuck with me ever since. That's helped me keep my head on as an immigrant who is sometimes flailing in my new environment: I channel all of my homesickness and sadness into learning about Mexican, Salvadoran, Guatemalan and Honduran foods, and that makes me happy.
Recipes to follow along
Pineapple tarts
Readers who live in Southeast Asia will likely know this: you'll be able to buy good, pre-made pineapple compote in your baking supply stores, and you'll get to skip the most laborious steps in these recipes. Lucky!
Tip: I also learned while making them that you should let your pineapple tarts rest for a couple of hours, they will taste more like what they're supposed to.
- Malaysian pineapple tarts, slightly simplified recipe, highly recommended for someone who has never had these or made these before.
- Indonesian pineapple tarts, aka nastar. Recommended recipe for someone wanting something slightly more advanced. Definitely use the cake flour if you have it
- Open-faced Peranakan-style pineapple tarts (paid content, excellent subscription overall). Recommended recipe for someone who wants a much more involved recipe, with advanced pastry cutting techniques and tools.
Tepache
Steep the rinds on your counter, covered, for at least 24 hours or until there is a visible layer of white bubbles. If it's not a significant layer, let it go for another 12. Like every other fermented product, keep an eye on it.
Gallo en chicha
With my leftover tepache, I might try to make this Salvadoran / Guatemalan dish, subbing out the chicha with tepache. Thanks to the online acquaintance who gave me this idea!
The saga comes to an end
The recipes for traditional pineapple tarts, like many recipes for traditional foods in Southeast Asia, are very involved. Personally, I try to cook this way whenever I can because I want to connect with my food culture. I also think there's room for long-winded, involved ways of food prep that stand up as a counter to some of the fast food, ultra-processed foods, that are so prevalent in my new environment. Not everyone needs to cook like that. But I certainly feel the need to learn the things I loved from 'home' before elders pass on.
In this regard, that also seems like a similarity with cooking techniques and food ways of the Latin American cuisines I'm just learning about.
Nowhere is this fusion more evident than at Cantoo, one of my favorite restaurants in San Francisco. The Venezuelan Chinese family kitchen churns out Latin American Chinese food that is excellent on 'both' sides. The Chinese cooking is on par with some of the best Cantonese food in San Francisco, with the roast meats and high heat stirfry dishes being the star. While the Venezuelan side, with the black beans, empanadas, flan, is also tasty.
Their soup is where this fusion stands out: Sopa Puerto Cabello, a tasty Venezuelan seafood soup, reminds me a lot of one of my favorite seafood soups from 'home'. I was very pleased to see they're finally getting the mainstream attention they deserve.
In a future post, I'll explore more Latin American Chinese cuisines, dishes, techniques and styles.
