Buha, The Coconut Cotyledon

Oh man. I found something out about coconuts today. It feels like finding out your longtime best friend has twelve toes. I feel pretty stupid, but beyond that, amused.



So the mature coconuts fallen in our garden are collected regularly for their milk. Awhile ago one was cracked open for lunch (stewed vegetables), and there was a strange formation inside. Apparently, this coconut was ready to shoot some leaves out, and this thing-- called buwa or buha (Ilonggo)-- is an edible, soft predecessor.



It feels like and tastes like coconut-flavored foam. I couldn't finish it, but everyone else was munching away. The spongy balls can be cut into slices, and their flesh feels like a super firm frozen brazo de mercedes.



This part is actually the coconut cotyledon, sometimes called the "coconut embryo" or "coconut apple", is actually suspended in germination. It is named uto in the Cook Islands, o'o in Samoa, and manzanas de coco (coconut's apples) in the Americas. Check this video out for a low-tech but interesting compilation of what must be all existing photos of the coconut cotyledon on the internet, plus some marginal medicinal information.

There are few resources and accounts on it. Here, according to personal interviews, it is eaten raw in the province, especially by those preparing copra. In Micronesia, there are accounts of a soup containing it with arrowroot (uraro) flour. This person speaks of a Chinese-Malaysian who taught them how to eat it. This South Indian tells us that it may sometimes be caramelized. I hope to gather more stories in my free time.

This short search also led me to discussions of the "coconut pearl", which are intriguing and funny to me.

General Overview Thing

It's good when your garden is resilient against manager-busy-ness. Things are still growing, and fast. Some parts of the garden are now more chaotic ("organized chaos") than ever, but hey, look at the false roselle:



It is not the "real" roselle, but a good substitute with sour leaves. I nicked this one from seeds in Nueva Ecija.



The evil-spirit-protection tuber (gabi-like) is finally peeking out of the betel leaves.



The patch of kamantigue came up nicely after the rains:



My collection of gingers is growing. Here's a langkawas I am about to transfer to a better place:



Large mushrooms from the rains:



And the most excellent bit of news: my achuete tree-ling, though barely up to my knee, is flowering and fruiting!





Some beans growing beside:

The Two Gabis, All Grown Up

After about a month and a half, the two gabis I purchased from the market are grown up and ready for transplanting.



On the left is puti bilog (the rounder corm with white flesh underneath) and on the right is pula haba (elongated with pinkish tone of flesh). Same goes for the photo of the corms pre-planting, below. Explanation and direct translation of the names are available in the first post.



I suppose now I will go all proper noun on you and capitalize.

Puti Bilog produced a relatively light-colored leaf, with the undersides almost the color of aphids.





The stalks were also very pale.



Pula Haba had similar-shaped leaves.



However, its stalks had strips of purple.





The undersides also had a tinge of purple, not darkly colored veins, but kind of like a light crayon shading.



You probably can't even see that, huh?

Well, I was sort of hoping the leaves would be differently shaped, but there you go. I can't wait til the taste-test of the corms and leaves.

Toys, Refused

After the anahaw straw post, I've decided to attempt to document the stuff I find hurled over the wall that is between my garden and the children running around all day in the street. This is the "toy and toy part" bunch of late.

Sometimes I am able to toss a ball back over a few hours after it lands on my plants, but other times the elements have their way and it all ends up looking like a Tim Burton movie.

Deep Greens and Purples

I've been away from the garden due to work, but I've been snapping photos of the gardens I come across. During this rainy season, leaves turn deep green (or yellow, if they drown). The dark purple on many tropical plants is more pronounced. It is a great, mosquito-filled time to walk around.





























Starting aratiles and guava seedlings:


Patola, hanging gourds:

I've been away from the garden due to work, but I've been snapping photos of the gardens I come across.

Open Source Seeds

Vandana Shiva discusses savings seeds, sharing knowledge, and open source software. (Via Bifurcated Carrots.)

I've been having a lot of discussions regarding seeds and seed saving recently, with people who are "not the type. This is quite fascinating when you consider how unpopular the topic of seeds was just a couple of years ago.

(Pause)

Look at my laptop. Productivity plummets. I just go along with the world. Perhaps shall resume soon.

Two More Gabis

I asked the lady at the market store what the difference between her two gabi were, and she just muttered something along the lines of (translated): "Aaaah, they are different, one is a bit more slippery, I'm not sure which one, but they are different, but kind of the same."



She peeled them off and rubbed with her finger, but could not tell the difference. I bought a whole bunch to propagate, and add to the growing population of gabi in the garden.



There were longer ones (on the right) and short, round ones (below, beside some turmeric). I bought about seven pieces of each.



Upon examining at home, I found that the longer variety actually was pinkish underneath the skin.



And came out with more apparent dots than the round one when sliced.



Planted in underneath this seedling rack, so that excess water will drip onto them. You may notice that they are labeled with broken pieces of clay pots ("Pula haba" or "red long" and "Puti bilog" or "white round", together with their planting dates. Note that the Filipino language really has no common word for pink, so that to say pink you must say mapula or somewhat reddish, veering towards red, in the red family.). Further observation in the following weeks.

Updates! Transplants, Weather, Skull

(Found a rodent jaw^) Okay! I need to do these "dump them in the bag" updates because I like to look back at past months and track progress and changes.



I recently transplanted a chico seedling (above) that I bought at the AANI market. I planted it among the weeds and grass, so I first put a kaing in place and mulched the bottom heavily with paper, stuffed with leaves (like this), and stuck the tree in. The dried coconut is there so that the chickens won't have the urge to jump in and mess it up.

I did the same for the cacao, only this time I put the bark of palm trees to deter chickens.



Our first marigolds are blooming! My dad used to think we had them, but we actually had cosmos flowers. They smell so good in a rank way, kind of like being cute-ugly, perhaps.



I just remembered my gisol or lesser galangal. I stuck it under the cotton plant way back and just sort of forgot about it. I transferred two small plants into pots until they recover from being weak and I will plant them out and propagate.



And it has been a ginger week indeed, as I have received two other kinds of plants from the family, and have found the identity of luyang itim. Another celebration resulting in breaking the root apart and transplanting them with room to grow, by the turmeric (larger one in the back) and the kamias tree. More on the identity later, that's it for now.

Broken Pots as Labels

One labeling strategy is to write on broken pots with permanent markers. Like I did for a couple of Batanes gabi that I planted in and wrote about previously. You often tell yourself you will remember where you got the plant, but really, you are bound to forget once you have a lot of varieties in.

Tenga ng Daga (Auricularia polytricha)

I have a soft spot for tenga ng daga or tainga ng daga mushrooms, because of their charming name (means "rat's ears") and, in addition, because they once grew on my bathroom door. They have made brief appearances here and here on this blog. In English, they are known as cloud ear fungus, black wood ear, or tree ear. They are called bukni in Cebuano.

I have, in the past, collected them mostly at the stage where they still do resemble ears, like the photo below.



Only during the past month's rains and floods did I get to collect those that look like the dramatic hem of a flamenco dancer's skirt-- one with an overzealous seamstress.



Outside my window is the side of the house, one area that is always moist, mosquito-filled, and full of branches. Early this year, we began pruning the eucalyptus, mahogany, is-is, and balete trees, and their branches dumped by the wall. These branches have now compacted a little bit, retaining enough humidity to welcome the tenga ng daga, which grow well in the heat but can survive a little bit of cold.



I have also removed some from rotting things like stools and benches. I was sorry to delay a bit the decomposition of the broken furniture, but confident that they will get there soon enough. If the sun comes up and your mushrooms dry up, worry not, as I have seen them seem quite dried up and dead when the rains stop, then start to come alive and grow plump once it starts pouring again.




In the Philippines, we often eat them as relatively chunky pieces, like the Chinese. In Japan, a close relative is sliced neatly into strips.These mushrooms have a quality accurately described by many sources as cartilaginous, providing some kind of crunch followed by an interplay of tiny squeaking and... jellyness against your teeth. I say tiny because the mushroom is quite thin, and you are likely to notice the crunch aspect more, but move it around with your tongue while it is still whole, and you will see what I mean. Anyway.

Most of the tenga ng daga that we eat comes dried from China, and some say Indonesia. I have not come across fresh ones being sold here. They are cultivated commercially on sawdust. We have the capacity to forage and cultivate much more. I am, at this point, a bit too lazy to get into mushroom cultivation, as it seems very technical and maselan to me. I get "wild" ones just fine.

The mushrooms are supposed to be good for circulation, for menstrual problems, sore throats, and more.

Underutilized Plants

I dream of a food revolution in this country. Of new tastes, old wisdom, practicality, and appropriateness to place.

I was previously growing less than half of the vegetables I eat (and I am vegetarian, so that means, all my food aside from rice), but since the discovery of edible weeds (kulitis, above, is one), it has gone up so drastically that I am smiling like a fool all the time. We don't really know what we've got, and we're so used to eating what the groceries (even wet markets) shove us, that we ignore what sprouts effortlessly from the ground.

I'm in a bit of constant study now (explaining less posts) of these wild plants, and learning something new everyday. Old books, interviews, historical text, listening for "Kinakain ito sa amin." ("Where I am from, we eat this.").

I am convinced this will help us, a country of colonization, Americanization, appropriation of dictated-by-other romanticized cultural associations, sweeping and empty "Pinoy ako" declarations, have an identity borne of our own land. How many of us actually know our own land? How can we know about the culture it informed-- and create a unique culture informed by it-- if we don't have the faintest clue what springs from it?

What "invasives" are naturalized and why? What do they like about our country and what can we learn from their adaptation? I have interest in this because ethnically, I carry the bloodlines of naturalized "invasives"-- a constant occurrence in nature.

I don't always get to type it out, but that is what interests me these days. Garden on.