While Frank (the typhoon last Sunday, June 22) was busy lashing the whole country, I remembered that dad brought back from Bicol a variety of  banana called pinipita — that’s what it’s called in Bikol. It’s firmer than saba. Here’s how this kind of banana looks:

Pinipita

peeled and sliced

Anyway, I thought of cooking these bananas–unripe and just perfect for pinakro–instead of just looking out the window, watching some falling trees and leaves flying in all direction or just listening to the  angry howling of the wind. I went with the taskfast: washed the bananas, peeled and sliced them in quarters so they’d cook fast. I soaked them in water (to pevent discoloration) while I squeezed the niyog. You can use canned coconut but I prefer the ‘real’ niyog. Mas masarap.

On with the cooking. I placed the sliced bananas in a pot, poured the coconut milk, added a dash of salt and brown sugar, covered the pot and placed it on the stove. By the way, I used the coconut milk obtained from the second squeezing and set aside the kakang gata (coconut milk obtained from the first squeezing). After 5 or 10 minutes, when half of the coconut milk has evaporated, I added the kakang gata, then covered the pot again. I only had to wait for a few more minutes and voila! Yum-yum merienda. Look:

Presenting: Pinakrong Batag (banana)

A closer look.

You can sprinkle sugar on top — a lot if you like. Or dip it in honey. I think that would really taste good. Haven’t tried it though.

I wait for a different ‘event’ in May. I’m a probinsyana, a girl from the countryside. I grew up running along cornfields, chasing chickens, walking between paddy fields and watching rice stalks gracefully dancing to the music of the provincial breeze, climbing guava trees, collecting sticky sap from the trunk of jackfruit trees and use it to catch dragonflies and butterflies in the field (hell! I didn’t even know the existence of the net!).

May is a month of many festivities. But aside from Flores de Mayo and the numerous fiestas in almost every corner of the country, I anticipate the coming of the first rain of May, better known to us probincianos/probincianas as Agua de Mayo. I remember my grandmother telling us that the first rain of May is sacred. It’s a blessing. Others believe that it’s similar to agua bendita or holy water and it has healing powers. For whatever other reasons, Agua de Mayo is important to agricultural communities. An ample amount of rain during this month signals a good planting season for rice farmers. I’m really praying for a good planting season and good harvest for our farmers and a sincere hope that we’ll get through the rice crisis.

Anyway, when it rained on the first day of May, I couldn’t let the event pass by. I just had to get out and feel the rain on my skin. And take pictures, of course!

Raindrops keep falling on my… hand! Lamig!

Welcoming the rain.

The fog almost covered the mountains.