Laing

Bicol's dried taro leaves simmered in coconut milk with chilli, ginger and shrimp paste until the oil breaks out, and never once stirred

Origin: Bicol & the Philippine Archipelago

From the journey of Taro.

Laing is the dish that defines the Bicol kitchen, and the Bicol kitchen is the one corner of the Philippines that cooks with heat and with coconut in quantity. Dried taro leaves go into coconut milk with ginger, garlic, a great many finger chillies, and a spoonful of bagoong shrimp paste, and are left to reduce for an hour until the leaves have collapsed and the coconut oil has broken out of the emulsion and risen to the top in a shimmering layer. That separation is the sign the dish is finished. The first instruction any Bicolano cook gives is negative: do not stir it. The pot is assembled, brought to a simmer, and left alone until the leaves have surrendered. Stirring before that point is held to make the dish makati, itchy, so that it scratches the throat of everyone who eats it. This has the shape of a superstition and is in fact straightforward chemistry: agitating undercooked taro leaf works the calcium oxalate raphides into the liquid, and the burning that follows lasts for hours. The rule is old, universal in the region, and correct. Dried leaves rather than fresh are the standard, and they are not a compromise. Drying concentrates the flavour, reduces the oxalate before cooking even begins, and gives the finished dish its characteristic dark, almost leathery texture; fresh leaves make a looser, greener, milder laing that Bicolanos regard as a different thing. It is eaten with a great deal of rice, because it is very salty and very hot, and it keeps and improves for several days. Its close relative Bicol Express takes the same coconut and chilli base and puts pork and long chillies in it instead of leaves, and the two dishes are the twin arguments of the same regional cuisine.

Ingredients

Laing

  • 80 g dried taro (gabi) leaves
  • 800 ml coconut milk
  • 200 ml coconut cream, for finishing
  • 200 g pork belly, in small dice (optional)
  • 1 tbsp fresh ginger, julienned
  • 6 garlic cloves, chopped
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • 2 tbsp bagoong alamang (shrimp paste)
  • 8 long green finger chillies, whole
  • 4 bird's eye chillies, chopped, or to taste

To serve

  • 6 portions of steamed rice, to serve

Method

  1. Put the coconut milk, ginger, garlic, onion, shrimp paste, and pork if using into a wide heavy pot and bring it to a gentle simmer.
  2. Simmer for fifteen minutes, until the pork is cooked through and the aromatics have softened into the milk.
  3. Scatter the dried taro leaves over the surface in an even layer. Do not push them under and do not stir.
  4. Let it simmer, uncovered and undisturbed, over a low heat for thirty minutes. The leaves will slowly absorb the milk and sink of their own accord.
  5. This is the step that matters. Stirring now works the oxalate into the liquid and the finished dish will scratch the throat of everyone who eats it, which is what Bicolanos mean by makati.
  6. After thirty minutes the leaves should be fully softened and sitting in a much reduced sauce. Only now stir them through gently.
  7. Add the whole finger chillies and the chopped bird's eyes and simmer for a further ten minutes.
  8. Pour in the coconut cream and cook for a final five to ten minutes, until the oil separates and rises in a clear layer on the surface. That separation is the signal the dish is done.
  9. Taste for salt. Bagoong varies a great deal in strength and the pot may want more, or nothing at all.
  10. Serve hot with a great deal of steamed rice. It keeps for three days refrigerated and is generally reckoned better on the second.

Notes

Dried taro leaves are sold in packets by Filipino grocers and are what the dish is built for; fresh leaves make a milder, looser version and want the same hands-off treatment plus longer cooking. Do not stir until the leaves have fully softened, for the reason given in the method. For a vegetarian version, leave out the pork and use a fermented soybean paste in place of the bagoong, though the result is noticeably less savoury. The heat here is meant to be serious: Bicol cooks would use twice the chilli given above, and the whole finger chillies are intended to be eaten rather than fished out.

The Gastrographer

The Gastrographer

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Ingredient originTrade or transit route
Became a culinary stapleColonial / trade control
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