Coffee and chorizo de bilbao

No, I don’t mean you have to take these together, although it wouldn’t be so bad either. But I’ve been meaning to write this for the longest time — as cliché copycats of the second-rate, trying-hard variety like to say. Just couldn’t find the time, what with daily kitchen chores always joining the to-do list — along with cursing a clan in Mindanao. 

Oops, we should never call them chores. Obligations familial, yes. Challenges, creative. That’s what they are. Oh, except for having to do garlic heads via mortar and pestle. You know how it is: when you’re handling bawang, someone is sure to text, and your SMS reply will reek of an antidote to vampires. 

In any case, I’ve long wanted to share a couple of relatively recent value-for-money discoveries I’ve stumbled on, occupying separate supermarket shelves.

In fact, for some months now, I’ve wanted to praise a particular commercial brand of brewing coffee to high heavens. This is the Barako brand put out by Cafe de Manila. It’s not just your generic barako. That popular term has been appropriated and applied to the packs of whole roasted beans that sell for only P135 for 227 grams or eight ounces, at least at the Pioneer Supermarket on Pioneer St. fringing both Pasig and Mandaluyong. 

As is my wont with new coffee brands — since I like playing the field for breakfast — I tried it out after spotting its attractive golden bag on the Pioneer Supermarket shelf. Previous to the happy eureka, the field on my brewing counter included Starbucks Colombia, Peets French Roast, Juan Valdez (two varieties, like Peets supplied by balikbayan friends whom I threaten to place on a hold departure list unless they scour California for my desiderata before coming home), and Batangas Brew Special (which I’ve long subsisted on, among all local brands).

Barako surprised me from the get-go. Upon opening the pack, I had a good first whiff of heavenly aroma. That meant the beans were of recent roast. They also glistened, another plus. Unlike dry beans, glistening dark brown beans mean that their natural oils have been preserved. And that in all likelihood, they were air-roasted.

Grinding a few scoops and drip-brewing the resultant grounds provided yet more whiffs of strong aroma. And my first sip also proved rewarding. I was happily surprised that at its modest price, this new brand pleased my palate, throat and gullet (let alone my interior doors of perception). Barako has a distinctive, solid flavor — not too strong, but of full body. Now I had another local coffee brand to rely on.

I stuck to it, but after a couple of months, I noted that a fresh pack I opened had beans that didn’t quite glisten anymore. Maybe it was a fluke. But it didn’t taste as flavorful. Another prob was that Pioneer Supermarket would often run out of supply. It wasn’t until much later that I also found it on the shelves of Shopwise on C-5 in the Libis area towards Q.C., as well as in Rustan’s Supermarket on Katipunan Avenue.

Since then, too, the beans are back to their glistening come-on, like chestnuts freshly roasted with a dash of oil from Rudolph the Reindeer’s nose. I still like Barako; it has become a staple in my coffee counter.

I alternated it with Peets and Juan Valdez until my supply ran out on those. Now that Christmas is around the corner, and Fil-Am friends are coming home in droves, I expect replenishment other than just holiday cheer. Thus, presently I figure I can wait before having to cough up all that much for Starbucks’ Colombia.

As luck would have it, last month a bazaar at the Valle Verde 5 covered court yielded yet another fresh brewing coffee brand. I purchased a small 75-gram sampler of a pack for a hundred bucks. Roaster Juan’s coffee came in distinctive silver wrap, and with interesting literature that said it was independently produced in the neighborhood, using an air roaster.

Hey, it was good. The beans were mostly dark and did they glisten! My first cup was also of full-bodied flavor and strong aroma. When the sampler quickly ran out — since a son also takes brewed coffee daily — I checked out the pack’s provenance and paid a quick visit to ValleNet Corporation at 18 San Miguel Court, Celery Drive, Valle Verde 5, Pasig City.

Lorrie and Terri Reyes turned out to be as pleasant as their produce. While making a 200-gram purchase, for P250, I was treated to points of discussion as to what coffee beans went into Roaster Juan’s, the roasting method employed for the start-up home industry, and an invite to a tasting session once they receive an expected delivery of Kenyan coffee beans.

All I could offer in return by way of coffee knowledge was that this friend of mine, Bencab the National Artist, raises coffee in his Baguio farm, and mixes Arabica, Robusta and Kenyan beans for roasting. And that it’s been terrific.

The Reyeses, actually former neighbors of mine, are into it with that kind of passion and dedication that say you have to share the love. Their coffee’s outstanding. And their knowledge of java puts them in a firm position to offer a quality product. Lorrie affirmed my instincts that dictated grinding enough coffee beans just for the day’s intake.

In fact the elegant pack for Roaster Juan’s Premier Specialty Coffee offers pointers apart from proclaiming the contents to be “Air-Roasted.” It also says, about storage:

“Freshly roasted coffee has three enemies: time, oxygen and moisture. Buy only a week’s supply of coffee so it’s not kept too long in storage. Store coffee in an airtight container at room temperature and keep in a dry cabinet away from sunlight. Do not refrigerate or freeze your coffee because this will turn your coffee into a moisture magnet the moment you take it out of the refrigerator.”

Their 200-gram pack I manage to stretch for a fortnight, since I alternate it with Barako (and some rough Sagada ground coffee that came as a gift). I’m only too happy to endorse Roaster Juan’s, too. You may call up the Reyeses at 706-3694 or contact them through roasterjuans@gmail.com

Now for the chorizo de bilbao. Congrats, kudos, and hats off to Gene Gonzalez for his introduction of new deli items sold at specialty corners in certain supermarkets — in my case the SM Hypermarket on Frontera Drive, before Tiendesitas, an eight-minute walk away from my place.

One terrific value-for-money item apart from the prepared take-aways like paella, lengua estofada and pasta, or the cookies and refrigerated desserts, is Chef Gino’s Gourmet (by Cafe Ysabel) Chorizo de Bilbao: a dozen fat pieces for only P180.

Since a Cebuana writer-friend passed on her recipe for Monggo a la Madrileña, and I happened to have expensive, imported chorizo de bilbao to use the first time, I’ve been hard put to find a suitable local replacement that wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg.

Well, Chef Gino has provided the answer. And I’ve been a happy camper since with his chorizo de bilbao, which I now use for at least three staple dishes the family loves, including my trusty driver.

For Monggo a la Madrileña, which I understand to have become an insulares’ version of the peninsulares’ lentejas or lentils, what I do is sauté the usual suspects of ripe tomatoes, onions and garlic in extra-virgin olive oil, mix in just three or four pieces of Gino’s Gourmet chorizos, cut up, then pour the medley into the softened monggo that’s been stewed with ginger. A little stirring, and voila! Even the cleaning lady says she’s never had a monggo dish as good!

But proper credit should go to dear Abing Amor of WILA (the lady writers’ group in Cebu), who provided the instructions.

Sometimes I just cut up a couple of chorizo pieces and sauté the same way, or with food mag editor Nancy Reyes-Lumen’s special sofritos, and scramble in a couple of eggs for a delicious broken omelet. 

Now I’ve developed yet another champion dish that the brood swears by, and makes sure to ask me to prepare for their weekend jaunts out with friends, especially since it can hold for days, even get better with reheating.

This is my Adobo Exquisito a la Tito K. Yeah and yehey, heh heh. Siempre, stew and soften peppered pork then chicken pieces (half an hour later) in good vinegar (I presently use the special Quezon brand, but mix in balsamic vinegar) and lots of garlic, with bay leaves thrown in.

Despite the black balsamic, I tend to go for white adobo, so only use some dabs of Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce for just a bit of color and an off-toyo flavor. Then I toss in paprika to taste (everything should be done to taste, rather than strict measurements). Then I put in pieces of Gino’s Gourmet chorizo de bilbao. When it’s done shortly, wow.

The leftover is fried to a toast, sans the sauce, which is tossed back in at the last minute. Then it becomes Twice-Cooked Adobo Exquisito à la Tito K. O, laban kayo?

Thanks, Gene. Should’ve lauded your triumph of initiative months earlier. But it’s never too late. Happy holidays with great coffee and gourmet chorizo!