Summer in Bagac – Flying Fish and Caviar

By SOL JOSE VANZI

February 27, 2011, 2:32am

Beach Resort in Bagac, Bataan

 A deep orange, crispy caviar is the main feature of many popular Sashimi varieties; plucked carefully from a freshly-caught flying fish, this roe has become one of the most sought after marine products in Bagac, Bataan, where flying fish (locally called Borador or kite) is caught by the boatload during the summer months.

The public market of Bagac, a few meters from the town’s beautiful beaches, gets extremely busy starting in the month of March and well into the beginning of the rainy season. Summer is when fish practically jumps into the nets, much to the delight of the town’s small-scale fishermen who pray for Class A varieties such as Bisugo, Talakitok, Lapu-Lapu and all varieties of tuna. A catch of flying fish is not considered profitable.

BORADOR, A RARE DELIGHT

At the height of summer, flying fish sells everywhere for less than half the price of the other varieties. It is even cheaper than galunggong and tamban, and not worth shipping to other markets such as Navotas or Divisoria. The natives think I’m nuts for traveling all the way to Bagac to buy their unwanted flying fish. Very few would believe how tasty this fish is when treated right.

I first ate kippered flying fish twenty years ago at the Bagac public market when it was the only breakfast fare left at the palengke’s only carinderia. The stall owner called it Daing na Borador; it was fried crispy on the outside but tender inside, with the melding flavors of a vinegar-garlic-pepper marinade. Without the marinade, the bland flesh has a distinct fishy aftertaste.  The vinegar/spice marinade draws the fishiness out with the fish juices, the better to crisp when deep-fried.

It was summer vacation time, the season for flying fish; the entire market was drowning in ice boxes and rattan baskets filled with the unpopular fish. I was advised to buy bottles of vinegar, packs of salt and black pepper; the fish vendors were to do everything for me: clean the fish, split it in half, pluck out the eyes so they don’t spatter in hot oil, and marinade the lot. Labor was free; all I had to do was pay for the fish; at that time, the retail price was P20 per kilo.

My photographer Willie Avila and I bought a total of 50 kilos of flying fish, which kept ten vendors busy. We went back to Manila with the fish all kippered, marinated and ready to fry. It was a weekend to remember for members of the staff of the Today newspaper, which Willie and I were working for at the time; we gave each one a bag of Daing na Borador.

CAVIAR FROM BIHOD!

Following a veteran’s advice, I gave the fish vendors strict orders to carefully separate the fish roe sacs from the rest of the fish innards, and to keep them on ice in a small ice box. Once home, I rinsed the roe carefully and packed them in tightly covered small containers after a brief soaking in light brine.

The roe more than paid for the rest of the fish. Some of it we used for Sashimi; the rest was consumed like caviar: scattered over soft scrambled eggs, spooned on crackers, garnished with chopped hardboiled eggs and lemon.

Avocado slices, mayonnaise and crab sticks were also improved with mounds of flying fish caviar; the mixture was wrapped in cones of toasted Nori, California Maki style.

OTHER BAGAC BARGAINS

Summer is also when fishermen catch a lot of colorful parrot fish, locally called Loro, which is not popular among the locals. This is the same fish that swims in aquariums of expensive Chinese restaurants, where they are steamed and sold for first class prices.

We always travel with an ice box or two for the fish we take home during our trips. While some fish can be simply buried in ice, parrot fish should be gutted to get rid of the fishy innards that could contaminate the rest of the ice box.

This same rule applies to cuttlefish, locally called Bagsak or Lumot, whose ink could rapture in transit, affecting the color and taste of the other fish.