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tables and the world

The Good Life with Eli F.J. Tajanlangit

While it is fished in most coastlines of the Philippines and, in fact the world, Negrenses have put their culinary stamp on the “hipon” or krill. As “guinamos” or salted, fermented krill, it comes in many versions from the kitchens of Negrenses. In fact, krill guinamos is one food that so defines the Negrense kitchen, it is one of things our expats long for when they long for home.

So big is the demand for guinamos that there are already canned versions for easier transport to foreign lands – just pray immigration or customs won’t be inspired to open these. While the awful smell of fermenting krill can smell of home sweet home to us, it is just that to foreign noses: awful.

Many have asked why, to this day, we have not addressed the smell of guinamos, i.e., remove it so it will be more palatable to foreigners. Indeed, there have been successful attempts at removing the smell – I guess, by adding smell-killing ingredients there. Somebody also makes “clean” guinamos – actually krill that’s salted and immediately cooked.

But while smell-less guinamos has a charm all its own, somehow it does not really taste like guinamos anymore. Somehow, for guinamos to be guinamos, it has to smell. Well, the word – gamos – basically means ferment and preserve, doesn't it, and the smell comes with the process.

Trust the Negrense cook, however, to reinvent things. Aside from the usual guinamos bisaya, which is krill plainly salted and fermented and the other one which is basically the same, except that it is pounded to a paste and sold by blocks, we now have versions that are spicy, sweet, and even in powdered form.

Yet, guinamos is not our only way with krill. We have torta – these tiny shrimps mixed with eggs and fried. Again with this one, our cooks have played and come up with many things. While we usually use fresh hipon for this, and maybe add plenty of onions for more flavor, there are cooks who sauté it first or even dry it before it is made into torta. Kalkag – dried krill – used in torta has an added level of texture that makes it different from your usual torta.

Interestingly, fresh krill is just as storied as how it can be prepared in the kitchen. I recently had to do a double take looking at a mound of krill at our Burgos fish market, when the vendor said it was a rare hipon I was looking at.

“Nami gid ni ‘to kay gabusong ni nga hipon...(these are really good krill because they are pregnant),” the vendor said. Sensing my incredulous look, the vendor asked me to look closely and see, each tiny, tiny piece of krill has greenish spots which are supposed to be its bihod, or eggs. I don’t know the science to this claim, but this was one tasty krill.

Good Friend J, of course, brags about “dancing salad” – live krill that they dip in super sour vinegar and eat straight, oftentimes with some of them still wriggling and jumping here and there. J, by the way, has another guinamos version that will make you forget your diet – he sautés guinamos bisaya that has fermented for long in plenty of onion and hot peppers, making for a nice play of salt, fermented seafood, oil and hot spices.

In other parts of the world, krill is used for many other things – as bait and animal feeds, aside from being eaten. There are also ongoing studies on how to produce krill oil, which is believed to have medicinal properties.

But the many ways we do krill now can surely go a long way in terms of food, tourism and overall economic development. Our Pulupandan town, for example, which is a known source of good hipon, has a range of guinamos and kalkag products to sell. I heard the town earns something like P3M to P4M a year in agreements with fishermen to catch krill – and that should give you an idea how much of an economic stimulus the humble “hipon” can be.*

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