The first adobo I ever had is something I will probably never taste again; illegal or not, I cannot now knowingly eat a rare or endangered species. I feel some guilt, however, when  the rich flavor of adobong bayawak haunts my tastebuds whenever I smell adobo.

It happened in the early'50s, when free-range chicken and duck started disappearing in our neighborhood. The men suspected that a large hungry bayawak (monitor lizard) had strayed into our community. Night and day, they searched high and low throughout the bamboo thicket that separated our row of houses from the fishpond-saltbed complex that provided the main livelihood to majority of the families at the time.

Finally, after a weekend of digging suspected hideouts and clearing leaves and dried twigs, they cornered the culprit, which did not have a Chinaman’s chance of survival against a dozen angry men armed with gulok (bolo) with black carabao horn handles.

Like my curious playmates, I ran towards the melee, but we all ran away screaming with fear when we saw the eight-foot-long bayawak hissing and snarling like a monster dragon. Ropes and a rain of blows from sharp knives finally overpowered the thick-skinned reptile. It took three men to carry the carcass into the barrio. The wild animal and the celebration that followed its capture are now part of barrio legend.

Because it was a Sunday afternoon the whole barrio was gathered around the uncemented basketball court. A kawa (giant wok} was perched atop three stones; a wood fire had started to heat the wok. Meanwhile, two of our neighbors skinned the bayawak with the same expertise they used on a 12-foot python that fell from the top branch of a 50-year-old acacia tree at the height of a typhoon the week before.

The lizard’s belly was slashed and out fell a sausage-like casing holding dozens of eggs. The bayawak was pregnant! The bayawak eggs, freed from the casing, remained soft-shelled and runny even after boiling. The eggs hardened only after simmering in the adobo gravy. "Had something to do with the salt or the vinegar," the men said. The eggs were distributed to the married menfolk, who believed they had Viagra-like effects.

All cut up, 12 kilos of bayawak nearly filled the kawa to the brim. A small bottle of vinegar, a cup of smashed garlic, a handful of salt and peppercorns, and a dozen bay leaves were added. No soy sauce. In those days, patis, not soy sauce, was the flavoring of choice. There was a great debate about whether or not to add ginger. The purists won after all agreed that lizard was a land animal, not a fish which could benefit from ginger.

A demi-john of lambanog (very strong distilled palm liquor) appeared and was passed around to keep the men happy while the lizard slowly simmered. The men decided to liven up the adobo with two cups of lambanog. In two hours, when almost all the liquid had boiled away, a cup of cooking oil was added and the meat was fried until almost golden brown and lightly crusted.

The adobo was shared by everyone. Those who lost a chicken or duck received bigger portions to make up for their misfortune. “You ate my chicken, now I eat you,” they justified.

What did it taste like? Pardon the cliché, but it tasted like chicken. Only better. Much better.

Adobo rules

Because adobo is more a cooking method than a specific dish, there are as many variations as there are cooks. However, cooks observe unwritten rules when cooking anything adobo-style.

1. For vegetable adobo, add the vinegar at the very last minute, after the veggies are done. Three of the most popular vegetable adobo are eggplant, sitaw (yard-long beans) and kangkong (water spinach). The cut vegetables should be stir-fried in a very hot wok with oil, garlic, salt, soy sauce, bay leaf, and black pepper. Sprinkle with a little water, cover, and simmer until tender, then add vinegar to taste. Stir and serve. If vinegar is added too early, the vegetables do not get tender.

2. When making fish adobo-style, the garlic is fried in oil until light golden, then all the other ingredients except fish, are added, simmered, and seasoned to taste. Fish is arranged on the sauce, covered, and cooked gently until done.

3. Soy sauce is never used in adobong Hito (freshwater catfish). Fresh luyang dilaw (turmeric) is used instead to reduce the fishiness and provide a fresh, curry-like color and tang. This is the same recipe for palos or igat (eel), shark, and stingray.

4. For chicken and pork adobo, there are two schools of thought about what stage the meat is fried. Some fry the meat at the very start, then add all the seasonings and simmer, covered, until done. Others simmer everything together until tender, take out the meat pieces to brown in oil, return the meat to the sauce, and simmer again to let the flavors meld.

5. Pork Binagoongan is a unique adobo variation, in which pork is browned with garlic, seasoned with vinegar, and sautéed with salted baby shrimps (bagoong alamang).

6. When fish harvests are abundant, they are cooked very slowly, adobo-style, in large clay pots for hours until the bones are practically dissolved and the liquid is gone. The cooked fish, sometimes subsequently sun-dried, keeps for many days without refrigeration. For variety, the cooked fish is added to coconut milk and vegetables.

7. Adobo on salads: shredded or flaked meat and fish adobo are fantastic toppings over all kinds of salads: potato, pasta, or vegetables. Some chefs re-fry the flakes to make them crisp and add them at the very last minute before serving.

8. Adobo sandwiches: mix shredded fish or meat adobo with mayonnaise or a vinaigrette, much like making a tuna sandwich. Top with cheese and melt in a toaster oven briefly.

9. Special fried rice: stir-fry crispy adobo flakes into garlic fried rice. Great with runny scrambled eggs.

10. Save all leftover adobo gravy in a container inside the freezer, When you have enough, simmer several peeled hardboiled eggs in the gravy for 20 minutes. The next day, slice the eggs and serve with gravy spooned over. Yum!