About Sarah Lohman

Sarah Lohman is a historic gastronomist who lives on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. She is author of the book Eight Flavors: The Untold Story of American Cuisine.

Yelling for an Egg: Filipino Food in Brooklyn

fillipino

The Manila Restaurant on 47 Sands St, Brooklyn, NY, 1938. This photo used to be available for licensing through NYC.gov, but I can no longer locate it. So here it is in all its watermarked glory.

This article is one of a series I’m writing as a Visiting Artist at BLDG92 in the Brooklyn Navy Yard.

I’ve always found that immigrated cuisines are best eaten at hole-in-the-wall type restaurants, for the most authentic experience.  But in my attempts to try authentic Filipino food, the hole-in-the-wall my husband and I found ourselves standing in front of was closed–permanently.  So a quick Google search for other restaurants in the area led us to not another Filipino restaurant, but a Filipino Gastropub.

It was fancier than I had wanted, but when my husband and I cozied up to the bar, I noticed that the menu included a dish that four people had insisted I try: balut.

“What is it?” I asked the bartender. After he explained it, I ashamedly admitted “I don’t have the strength.”

But that wasn’t true of the gentleman sitting next to me.  A Filipino immigrant, sitting with his wife and grown son, he ordered his balut and the staff let out a loud whoop! of celebration.

“All this yelling for an egg??” his wife asked in laughing disbelief.  Balut is a fertilized duck egg: you crack the egg to find a half-developed bird fetus, swimming in briny broth.

“It’s a special dish,” the bartender replied, smiling.  Then, to the husband: “Do you remember it from the Philippines?”

“Yes, I miss it!” he replied, in a way that nearly pained him, pressing his hand over his heart.  “I ate it all the time.  I sip the broth first, then eat the meat–such delicate bird meat!”

Food gives comfort when we long for home.  It’s all the good parts of where we come from and none of the reasons why we left.  This is as true today as it was in the 1930s, when a thriving Filipino population found their home just outside of the Brooklyn Navy Yard.

The Phillipines fell under American occupation shortly after the Spanish-American war.  The result was an increased American military population on the islands, but also an increase in Filipino immigration to the United States.  Many young Filipino men joined the Navy, for economic opportunity as well as adventure, particularly as the nation geared up for World War II. Many of these recruits ended up at the Brooklyn Navy Yard; by the 1940s, The Navy Yard had over 70,000 employees, and was a key military base and constructed such infamous ships as the USS Missouri.

sandsa

Washington Street & Sands Street, 1930. Source.

With so many employees in the yard, the population of the Brooklyn neighborhoods surrounding the Yard exploded.  At the end of a workday, or over a weekend of leave, A Filipino sailor could stroll out the Sands St. exit; he’d bypass the American lunchrooms and bars and head for the intersection of Sands and Washington Streets, where he could find Brooklyn’s Filipino community and a taste of home.

In 1939, WPA writers produced a guide book to every nook and cranny of New York City’s five boroughs; one intrepid writer recorded the area around the Navy Yard and its Filipino community:

Around Sands and Washington Streets is a colony of Filipinos; native food, extremely rare in the eastern part of the United States, is served in a Filipino restaurant at 47 Sands Street. Among the favorite dishes are adabong gaboy (pork fried in soy sauce and garlic); sinigang isda and sinigang visaya (fish soups); mixta (beans and rice), and such tropical fruits as mangoes and pomelos, the latter a kind of orange as large as a grapefruit.

A photo from 1938 lets us peak inside and glimpse a night filled with familiar food, music and friends. The Manila restaurant was probablly the first Filipino eatery in the city, having been established since at least 1927. It looks like a good place, the customers are relaxed, and you can just barely make out a menu hanging on the back wall.  An ad for the restaurant, uncovered by Purple Yam and Dawn Bohulano Mabalon, Assistant Professor of the History Dept at the San Francisco State University, says the restaurant serves “Philippine, American, Chinese, and Spanish dishes.”  A sign of creeping Americanization, or of the diversity of Filipino culture?

No mention of balut, though. I bet those in the know could ask for it.

Today, immigrants from the Philippines account for 4% of the foreign-born population in the United States; only Mexico, China, and India send more of their sons and daughters to make a new life in this country.  There are easily a dozen Filipino restaurant in the city now, and probably many more, tucked away in the right neighborhoods, offering a little bit of comfort to those far from home.

Events: Sriracha & Ice Cream

Image by kattebelletje

Sriracha: A History

Thursday, August 29th, 8:30-10PM
@ the Brooklyn Brainery
$17 Sign up here!

A pungent sauce, produced in California by a Korean immigrant of Chinese descent, intended for Thai consumers. A sauce that has somehow crossed over into the American mainstream, popular enough to merit its own potato chip flavor.

That is Rooster Sauce–as American as apple pie.

In the class, we’ll explore the fascinating history of Sriracha and you’ll learn how to make your own version of this spicy sauce. Then, we’ll go beyond Pho and explore the versatility of Sriracha by taste-testing some unexpected flavor combinations.

I’m also teaching Homemade Ice Cream Class at the Brooklyn Brainery on Thursday, August 15th, 8:30-10PM. Sign up here!

 

 

The History Dish: Ambergris Ice Cream

Image from Gourmet.com, from a 2008 article that postulates ambergris might be the next big flavor.

Food historian Ivan Day has discovered what is believed to be the first recipe for ice cream, written in a manuscript by Lady Anne Fanshawe of England. Dating to c. 1665, she flavors her ice cream with mace, orangeflower water, or ambergris.

Ambergris is an “intestinal slurry,” believed to be a ball of muscus-covered, indigestible squid beaks. This mass is ejected into the oceans by sperm whales, much like a cat disgorging a hairball. A ball of ambergris floats in the sea until it washes ashore and is collected. Throughout the 18th century, it was a prized flavoring for sweets and today it is still valued today as a base for perfumes. Its smell and flavor can range from “earthy to musky to sweet.” At the current Whales: Giants of the Deep exhibit at the American Museum of Natural History, you are encourage to sniff a large ball of very valuable whale puke.

I needed to known what ambergris ice cream tasted like.  Ambergris is very, very expensive: it will run you about $25 per gram. There are more affordable, essential oils made from it, but often they are labeled “not for consumption.” I searched far and wide and finally found Dewberry’s Herbal, an Etsy shop stocked with handmade essential oils that even let you choose which oil base you want. I picked the “True Ambergris” with grapeseed oil, the most neutral of oils!

I have been psyched for this experiment for weeks! …And the end of the story is the ambergris got lost in the mail. Or, stolen from the foyer of my apartment building. It is no where to be found–and I’m crushed.

To be continued…when I can work out the insurance claim, or scrape together money to by some more, Ambergris Ice Cream will happen!

The History Dish: Howqua’s Tea Ice Cream

 Coarse leaves of lapsang souchong tea. Photo by Selva.

You may have noticed the trend, in the fancy ice cream freezer at the grocery store, for bright green pints of “Green Tea Ice Cream.” The color, and flavor, comes from matcha, the green tea powder that is traditionally used in Japanese tea ceremonies.  Although the use of  matcha in confections is recent, the idea of tea-flavored ice cream is quite old.

Drinks, like tea, coffee, and “hot” chocolate, were some of the earliest ice cream flavors, first appearing in the 18th century. This recipe for Howqua’s-Tea Ice Cream, from The Ice Book, 1844, particularly captured my imagination.

Who’s this Howqua dude? Wu Ping-Chien, known as Howqua or Ho-Kwa in the West, was a Mandarin trader in the early 19th century. His family business worked heavily with England and the United States and by the time of the Opium War, Howqua was one of the richest men on the planet. Known for the fine quality of his products, his famous name was often appropriated to lend inferior brands of tea an air of luxury.
The name was often given to black tea blends, known to have a “delicious fragrant aroma” or a “peculiar flavor.”  Some brands seem to have gotten their unique taste from orange pekoe tea; while other relied on lapsang souchong. Lapsang souchong is made from course tea leaves plucked far away from the “bud” of the tea plant.  These leaves lack aromatic compounds and therefore flavor. To compensate, the leaves are dried over a smokey pine fire, resulting in a rich, black tea with a dark, smoked flavor.
I thought a smokey black tea might make for an interesting ice cream, so I tried it out. I used my standard custard ice cream recipe (below) and infused the milk and cream with 1/4 cup of loose leaf lapsang souchong tea.
The results? I swear to god it tasted just like bacon. It’s vegetarian bacon ice cream, with a flavor more subtle and complex than squirting liquid smoke into everything (the method often used to create “fake” bacon flavor).  Was it any good?  Debatable.  But it seems like the technique could be expanded upon and taken advantage of.  Give it a whirl and let me know how it goes.
***
Basic Custard Ice Cream
A Frankenstein combination of recipes from Thomas Jefferson, Martha Stewart, and Alton Brown.
  • 2 cups heavy whipping cream

  • 1 cup whole milk

  • 1 vanilla bean (or, other flavoring of your choice)

  • 6 large egg yolks

  • 3/4 cup sugar

  • 1/4 teaspoon coarse salt

  • Additional mix-ins

Add split and scraped vanilla bean to cream and milk in a saucepan. Bring to a boil.  In the meantime, in a glass bowl whisk together egg yolks, sugar and salt until blended. After cream mixture comes to a boil, pour slowly on the egg mixture, whisking constantly. Return to saucepan and cook over low heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until custard thickens slightly and evenly coats back of spoon (it should hold a line drawn by your finger).  Pour custard through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl set over ice, or place in refrigerator, until chilled–overnight is preferable. Churn in an ice-cream maker according to manufacturer’s instructions, adding mix-ins like nuts or fruits in the last few minutes of freezing. Transfer ice cream to a resealable plastic container and freeze until firm, about 2 hours.

***
I learned about Howqua’s Ice Cream from Ivan Day’s Ice Cream: A History (Shire Library), a slim book packed with information and images about ice cream history.

Etsy Kitchen Histories: Parmesan Ice Cream

icecream2A dish of parmesan ice cream.

In this month’s Etsy Kitchen History, I explore historic flavors of ice cream (musk!), ice cream molds (roast chicken!), and attempt a fascinating 18th century recipes for Parmesan ice cream.

In the 1780s, King Ferdinand IV of Naples and his wife arrived at the San Gregorio Convent to find “…a table covered, and every appearance of a most plentiful cold repast, consisting of several joints of meat, hams, fowl, fish and various other dishes.” The King and his entourage were bummed, however, because they had just eaten. But not wanting to seem impolite, they sat down, and Queen Maria Carolina “…choose a slice of cold turkey, which, on being cut up, turned out a large piece of lemon ice. All the other dishes were ices of various kinds, disguised under the forms of joints of meat, fish and fowl.” The King and the nuns alike had a hearty laugh at the joke.

Read more on Etsy here! And on Four Pounds Flour this week, I’ll be posting about two more unique historic flavors: ambergris and lapsang souchong.

Taste History Today: Pulque

pulqueA flight of pulque. Clockwise from the top: oatmeal, guava, lime, celery, mango, and plain in the center.

We were way too old to be in this place. We were definitely the creepy old couple.  Looking around the bar, most of the people drinking around us looked to be in their early twenties, and perhaps younger: the drinking age in Mexico is 18, after all.  And more than that, there was a youthful rebelliousness in this crowd seldom seen Mexico City: in general mild temperatures and Catholicism resulted in conservative dress. But in the pulqueria, facial piercings were the norm, women bared their shoulders, and one crusty punkette asked if we would like to buy a pot brownie (brownie de cannabis).

My husband and I were recently married (late in life, by some standards, at the ages of 30 and 31) and honeymooning in Mexico City, when curiosity led us to a Pulqueria.  Pulque is an ancient drink made from the fermented sap of the agave; it is thought to have been developed at least 2,000 years ago.  Distill that juice, and you get tequila (or mezcal); ferment it like beer, and you get pulque, thick and milky white.  A staple of Aztec life, for many years it survived as a drink of the working class; but recently, pulque has been receiving press for its growing popularity amongst Mexico City’s youth.

A 1,000 year old mural depicted people drinking pulque. (source)

The Pulqueria La Risa, where we sat, has been pouring the thick beverage for over a century. In the modern incarnation of this drink, fruit juices, or nuts and grains along with sugar are added. On the day we visited, the sabores de dia included Guava, Mango, Celery, Blackberry, Oatmeal, and Pine Nut.  In its pure state, I found pulque to taste like stomach acid, so the addition of sweet fruit juice is a huge improvement.  The result is something like a wine cooler: sweet in flavor, but with an ABV on level with a beer.

IMG_0258Inside Pulqueria La Risa.

I think it’s wine cooler-like qualities are responsible for its resurgence amongst the young.  The drink is even beginning to make its way to New York City; Pulqueria, in lower Manhattan, offers ginger-peach and tomatillo pulques alongside a full Mexcian menu. A glass of pulque costs $14, about ten times the going price in Mexico city.

Do I think pulque will be a huge hit north of the border? Not likely. After carving out a small corner in the densely packed bar, my husband and I ordered a pitcher of oatmeal pulque.  Sweetened and topped with cinnamon, its the breakfast that gets you drunk.  We had planned to order several pitchers, and perhaps a discrete, foam, to-go cup, and get slowly drunk on a hot afternoon.  But after the first pitcher, our stomachs were full and grossly distended. Pulque is often known as a meal in a glass, packed full of calories and vitamins, and is incredibly filling. We left, sober and gassy, and fairly confident that that was the first, and last time, we’d try to get drunk on pulque.

Travelogue: The Market at Tenochtitlan

tenochtitlanMap of Tenochtitlan from the Letters of Hernan Cortes to Charles V, 1524. Library of Congress.

We stood in front of a modern day market–one that sold kinda cheesy, but loveable, tourist goods–and our guide pointed to a map.  “In Tenochtitlan, we would be standing here, on the site of the market.” A modern day market was on top of a historic one, the latter buried somewhere beneath our feet.

For our honeymoon, my husband and I traveled to Mexico, and we spent the first half of our trip in the capital city.  Mexico City sits on the historic site of Tenochtitlan (1325-1521), the Aztec/Mexica capital city and one of the last great Central American cities to fall under Spanish Colonial rule. Famously built on top of a lake, where an eagle clutching a serpent stood on a cactus on a swampy isalnd, it was a highly defendable collection of man-made islands veined by canals. Now, each island roughly corresponds to a different neighborhood in the city (although Mexico City is far larger today); in many circumstances, Spanish colonials built buildings right on top of existing native structures.

IMG_0275Mexico City: In the foreground,the ruins of Tenochtitlan’s Templo Mayor; in the background, Spanish Colonial buildings.

On our first full day in the city, we took a tour with Eat Mexico who provide food walking tours geared towards English speakers.  I loved the four-hour tour of markets and street food because I feel like it gave us our Mexican food training wheels–we learned what dishes were called, what we liked, and from that point on we were unafraid to pull up our seats to a street food cart and dig in.  But I also had a sort of historical revelation as we stood in the market.

Our guide, “Paco,” mentioned that we knew there was a market here in Tenochtitlan because there is a written account of it: a lengthy letter that Hernan Cortez sent to Charles V.  The letter is fascinating, and can be read in its entirity here.  But of course the part I find most interesting is his description of Tenochtitlan’s largest market, the one that was below my feet:

 There is one square…where are daily assembled more than sixty thousand souls, engaged in buying and selling ; and where are found all kinds of merchandise that the world affords, embracing the necessaries of life, as for instance articles of food…There is a street for game, where every variety of birds found in the country are sold, as fowls, partridges, quails, wild ducks, fly-catchers, widgeons, turtle-doves, pigeons, reedbirds, parrots, sparrows, eagles, hawks, owls, and kestrels ; they sell likewise the skins of some birds of prey, with their feathers, head, beak, and claws. There are also sold rabbits, hares, deer, and little dogs, which are raised for eating and castrated. There is also an herb street, where may be obtained all sorts of roots and medicinal herbs that the country affords. There are… restaurateurs, that furnish food and drink at a certain price… There are all kinds of green vegetables, especially onions, leeks, garlic, watercresses, nasturtium, borage, sorel, artichokes, and golden thistle ; fruits also of numerous descriptions, amongst which are cherries and plums, similar to those in Spain ; honey and wax from bees, and from the stalks of maize, which are as sweet as the sugar-cane; honey is also extracted from the plant called maguey, which is superior to sweet or new wine ; from the same plant they extract sugar and wine, which they also sell…maize, or Indian corn, in the grain and in the form of bread, preferred in the grain for its flavor to that of the other islands and terra-firma ; patés of birds and fish ; great quantities of fish, fresh, salt, cooked and uncooked ; the eggs of hens, geese, and of all the other birds I have mentioned, in great abundance, and cakes made of eggs;, finally, every thing that can be found throughout the whole country is sold in the markets, comprising articles so numerous that to avoid prolixity, and because their names are not retained in my memory, or are unknown to me, I shall not attempt to enumerate them.

And much, much more.  There were even “persons who go constantly about among the people observing what is sold, and the measures used in selling; and they have been seen to break measures that were not true.”

The little, castrated dogs for eating are generally thought to be Chihuahuas, which recent DNA testing has deemed a “native dog”: one of a handful of species that did not come to the Americas with Europeans, but by an earlier Asian migration.  And the “maguey” plant is agave; the agave “wine” they’re selling is pulque.

For more reading on Central American culture, I recommend 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus.  I read it right before my trip and it BLEW MY MIND.

The History Dish: 19th Century Wedding Cake

weddinga_cake1Historic wedding cake, passed out as a wedding favor.

After I got engaged, one of the first questions I was asked was “Are you going to have historic wedding cake?”

No. I was not. Why? Because historic wedding cake is disgusting.

Ok, maybe that’s not fair to say.  It’s just not to MY taste.  Our actual wedding cake was a spice cake with pecan, salt and dulce de leche filling and cream cheese frosting, baked from scratch by my mother, an award winning baker.  That’s my kind of cake.

But I did decide it would be a sweet and meaningful wedding “favor” to send everyone home with a slice of 19th century wedding cake.

I didn’t end up using the wedding cake recipe that inspired the name of this blog; I followed the recipe for “Ohio Wedding Cake” from Miss Beecher’s Domestic Receipt Book, published in 1846. It used almost the exact same ingredients and proportions as Lydia Maria Child’s 1830s recipe, but gave better instructions.  They were more clear, and revealed some of the specifics of 19th century baking any good Victorian housewife would have known, but I did not.

wedding_recipe

This was a quick recipe to put together; I baked and frosted three recipes (three large sheet pans) in a day.  I used mixed fruits from King Arthur Flour as well as raisins, brandy, red wine, nutmeg, cinnamon, mace and cloves to flavor the recipe. It was baked at 350 degrees for about an hour. It would have had a meringue frosting, but egg based frostings are not durable in the summer heat. I made a glaze from powdered sugar and water instead.

I wrapped little rectangles of cake in self-sealing bags, with a copy of the recipe behind it. The cake was a huge hit. My mom loved it. Most people liked it. And those that didn’t, appreciated the experience. And although the cake was of the dense and heavy fruitcake variety, it was actually better than I expected.

DSCF6096Wedding cake: wrapped with a recipe.

For more on the history of the wedding cake, check out this fantastic Gastronomica article “Wedding Cake: A Slice of History.”

Events: Cocktail History and Chili Powder History!

I’m back! And I’ve got two events coming up in the NYC area: The history and future of COCKTAILS and an exploration of the evolution of Chili Powder!

Masters of Social Gatronomy do COCKTAILS

Monday, July 29th, 6:30 PM
@ the Brooklyn Kitchen
$5 gets you admission, two free beers and 10% off purchases at the Kitchen. Buy tickets here!

Each month, Sarah and Soma take on a curious food topic and break down the history, science, and stories behind it. Up this month: **cocktails!**

The cocktail is credited as one of America’s greatest inventions. But where did it come from, and how did it evolve into the endless combinations we find today? Sarah will examine the dawn of the cocktail and trace the origins of some of our country’s most beloved imbibements. You’ll walk away with a new appreciation for the drinks that got your ancestors drunk.

Soma will tackle our modern-day obsession with the cocktail. Rules will be broken and assumptions shattered: water vs whiskey, shaken vs stirred, and the One True Way to craft a martini! Find out how egg whites got from your breakfast plate to your highball glass, and whether baseball sized ice cubes make your drinks a sure home run.

BIG IMPORTANT NOTE!: MSG mooooving on over to Brooklyn Kitchen this month, where your $5 admission will get you 2 drink tickets and 10% off anything your heart desires. Doors at 6:30, talks shortly thereafter! Awesome? Yes. You can buy tickets at the door but there is a limited capacity; buy in advance here.

Image courtesy Marx Foods.

Chili Powder: A History

Thursday, July 25th, 6:30 PM
@ the Brooklyn Brainery
$18 Buy Tickets Here

What was chili’s path from a local dish of the Southwest to an easy weeknight meal for millions of Americans? There was an era when black pepper was considered spicy; but today, we make ourselves sweat with the hottest chili pepper blends. Why? Can science offer an explanation for our obsession with heat?

From traditional spices to national chili cook-offs, we’ll discover how the distribution of commercialized chili powder affected our eating habits and how it fits into our national pantry.

We’ll look at the roots of chili in Mexican cuisine, as well as the “Chili Queens” of San Antonio. We’ll learn how chili made its national debut at the 1893 world’s fair, and how this Tex Mex dish became a part of Americana from Washington DC to Cincinnati to Texas.

This class will include a tasting of chili cooked from a recipe in the first Mexican-American cookbook published in 1908. Buy tickets here!

 

 

 

Summer Vacation

Hi Friends!

This post is hear to let you know I’m on a Summer Sabbatical until July 16th. That’s a long time to be gone, I know, but it’s for a good reason:

I”m getting married!!!!

Following the wedding, my fiancee Brian and I going on a honeymoon to Mexico City, followed by a trip to the Gulf Coast.  We’ll be staying in northern Verracruz, near Papantla, the native region of Vanilla. I’ll be taking a tour of a vanilla plantation, as well as generally devouring everything in Mexico. Follow me on Twitter for updates while I’m gone, but there will be lots of photos and a blog about the trip when I return.

If you’d like to give us a little something for our big day, we’re registered with the Human Rights Campaign.  We’re getting married in Ohio, a state that bans same-sex marriage in the state constitution; HRC is workings towards change. Please go here if you’d like to make a donation in our name.

I want to leave you with a wedding cake recipe from 1830, first published in The Frugal Housewife by Lydia Maria Child.  It’s very close to my heart because it inspired the name of this blog.

cake