Dinuguan *Filipino Pork Blood Stew* (Halloween Recipe)

Halloween, my favorite holiday, is upon us. It signals the beginning of autumn and all the pleasures that come with it. There’s something about the season that makes me want to cozy up on the couch with a (don’t laugh) pumpkin spice chai latte and watch "Hocus Pocus" and "Harry Potter." The spooky mood of this time of year brings out my not so secret love of dark, romantic authors and poets. I can’t get enough of Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu (“Carmilla” is the most underrated vampire novel of all time) Anne Rice, and Edgar Allen Poe when the leaves seem to begin to rust on the trees.

I also crave hearty stews when the weather turns cool, and while I love making my Venison Bourginon, I just wasn’t in the mood for it. I was in a dark mood, craving a flavor that was deep, exotic, and mysterious, like one of the characters in the books I’ve been reading. Then I recalled a dish my Grandma Trina made for me when I was a child called Dinuguan, an intensely flavored (don’t freak out) pork blood stew. The name actually comes from the Tagalog word dugo which means “blood.”

…Are you still reading? Hear me out folks, I did not like this as a child, and as a matter of fact it was the only dish I have ever disliked. The flavor was too complex for me as a little girl, and as an adult I wanted to revisit it. I wanted to push the limits of my palate, and be able to say with confidence that there is not a single thing I do not like to eat. Spoiler Alert: I slightly tweaked the traditional recipe, and to my surprise, I LOVED it.

Honestly, if you get past the idea of pork blood as an ingredient, you wouldn’t even know it was included. Remember, it’s an ingredient that’s used almost like a spice to add flavor, and is not wholly representative of the majority of the dish. Besides, plenty of cultures have blood recipes. The Spanish make a blood sausage, the British make blood pudding, and the Polish make a blood stew as well. See, it’s really not that scary. Read on if you dare!

Ingredients:

*Note: Use a trusted source of pig blood, and by “trusted” I mean a brand name. I use a brand called “Martin” that can be found easily at any Filipino grocery store. I get mine from Nora’s Filipino Market in Clarksville, Tennessee. Do not buy from a source that does not look legitimate. For example, if a sketchy dude hanging out behind a gas station says, “Hey, you gotta try this pork blood” JUST SAY “NO,” kids! *

Pork Blood (10 FL OZ)

Pork loin chop (2 packages, boneless, thinly sliced into 1 inch cubes)

Beef Stock (16 FL OZ)

Palm vinegar (1 cup)

1 Onion

4 Garlic cloves

1 Habanero pepper

1 Red bell pepper

1 Green bell pepper

2 Bay leaves

Salt (1 tablespoon)

Pepper (1 tablespoon)

Sugar (1 tablespoon)

Performance:

I began by cutting up and sautéing the onion and garlic until translucent in my pot (cauldron). I then added the pork that I had cut into 1-inch cubes and browned gently along with some salt and pepper. I tumbled in the red and green bell peppers, as well as the habanero, and allowed everything to soften. I poured in the beef stock, vinegar, and pork blood then let my cauldron bubble. I added the sugar and bay leaves, and stirred continuously, (this is must be done or the bottom will scorch) until the sauce thickened (about 15 minutes) and the contents were a deep brown color.

I plated the dish, sat down at the dinner table with C, and tasted… I loved it. It was like a traditional stew but had an added complexity that made it fascinating. Even more surprising, C, who had watched on curiously (and I daresay a bit dubiously) while I cooked, announced that it was the best thing I’d ever made. He said, “It doesn’t taste very exotic. If you didn’t know there was blood in it, you wouldn’t be able to tell. It tastes like chili without the beans. It’s very accessible.” Needless to say, we were more than pleasantly surprised, and I can now say that there is not a single dish I do not like.

P.S. Be careful stirring when you cook with pork blood, or your kitchen could end up looking like a crime scene, and you’ll end up screaming for your law school boyfriend to stop reading for 5 minutes and come clean up the kitchen. Like this: