The salty-sweet allure of the ensaymada
Fluffy and sweet with a salty kick of umami, ensaymadas have grown on me with age.
I was 11 the first time I tasted an ensaymada.
It was Christmas Eve at my grandparents’ house in Manila, the highest of holy days for Filipinos. While our titas, titos and cousins prayed for our heathenly salvation at midnight mass, my ex-Catholic mother and I wrapped presents, stuffed stockings and prepared a spread of food that smothered every surface of my lola’s small kitchen.
Lechon and leche flan. Stewed fish and sliced Spam. A rice cooker full of steamed rice, plus a second heaping bowl of fried rice glistening with butter and garlic. Crispy pata, Mom’s pancit bihon, Lola’s pancit Canton, and more styles of lumpia than I could wrap my tween head around.
At the far end of the counter, next to the refrigerator that my grandparents only plugged in when my newly minted American mother was there to pay the electric bill, sat the desserts and pastries: hopia and buko pie; Mom’s fruit salad clouded with condensed milk; and puffy bread rolls crowned with frilly curls of what looked like white chocolate.
I snuck one from the end of the tray sometime before midnight, as we waited for the family to return, my eyes drooping with fatigue. I took a huge bite, expecting a jolt of sweetness. Instead I got … cheese?
“What is this?” I asked my mom, trying not to gag.
“It’s not time to eat!” she said, snatching the roll from my hand. “You’re not going to like this,” she went on, taking a bite for herself, and then another, and then a third. “It’s ensaymada,” she managed between chews, “your lolo’s favorite. It’s sweet bread with cheese.”
“Ew,” I thought.
At 11, ew covered most of my thoughts.
It was 30 years until I thought about ensaymada again. I came across varying recipes from the Filipino cooks and bakers I follow (Abi Balingit of The Dusky Kitchen is an absolute treasure).
I cobbled together my own recipe during the holidays and tested it with my quarter-Filip daughter, prepping her for what lay ahead.
“They’re sugary and savory, like when we put sea salt on our chocolate-chip cookies,” I said.
She nodded, unfazed.
As with so many Filipino dishes, ensaymadas are a product of colonization; a dish brought by the Spanish and adapted by the locals. As a U.S. born half-Filipina, I’ve adapted it yet again, adding grated pecorino Romano for an extra kick of umami and sprinkling the layers with sugar to boost that lively dance of salty and sweet.
Ensaymadas take time, which is perhaps why my mother never made them. Time wasn’t something she had while working as an ICU nurse and raising three kids on her own. Revisiting this dish, I’m struck by how rich yet balanced it is — think buttery brioche sprinkled in sugar and salt, then finished with soft shreds of Edam cheese that, I’ve grown to realize, is so much better than white chocolate.
Scroll down for my recipe.
But first — thank you KWLS
It’s been a wild and wonderful start to 2022.
I spent the first half of January in Key West, where I earned a scholarship spot at the Key West Literary Seminar & Workshops. I listened to Judy Blume (!!) and Lauren Groff and Jami Attenberg and the inimitable Deesha Philyaw. I sat in awe of Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Jericho Brown and former U.S. Poet Laureate Billy Collins. I met up-and-coming writers whose work left me speechless.
I spent four days in a workshop led by the enormously talented David Treuer, whose latest, The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee, was a New York Times bestseller and a finalist for the 2019 National Book Award. He showed me how to see words in new ways, and for that I’ll be forever grateful.
I can’t thank the organizers enough for giving me the opportunity to attend (and shout out to my amazing husband for holding down the homefront). If you’ve never been, I highly recommend it. It’s a world-class event, and it’s in our backyard. You can find information on the 2023 seminar and workshops here.
And thank you BIG ARTS Sanibel
Last week, I had the distinct honor of kicking off the 2022 Talking Points series at BIG ARTS Sanibel.
A huge thank you to Arlene Dillon and the BIG ARTS organizers and sponsors who gave me an hour on their beautiful stage to tell stories and talk about food and restaurants with the masked and socially distanced audience.
We laughed. I managed not to cry, faint or throw up. I showed off my NBA-length wingspan. I gained a ton of new newsletter subscribers (Which: Hello! And thank you all, as well!). It was a fabulous event, and I was happy to play a part in it. You can check out more BIG ARTS programming here.
Aaand that’s enough about me. Back to the food …
Recipe: Ensaymadas
Adapted from Riverten Kitchen, Panlasang Pinoy and the Filipinx cookbook
This is a great Sunday adventure. With the various dough risings and the time it takes to roll and proof the ensaymadas, allow 5+ hours from start to finish. Much of that, thankfully, is inactive.
Ingredients
1 packet active dry yeast
1/2 cup plus 3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/2 cup lukewarm milk
6 large egg yolks
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter at room temperature, divided into individual tablespoons
4 tablespoons melted butter that has cooled slightly
1 cup grated pecorino Romano or Parmesan
1/4-1/2 cup Edam cheese, finely grated (for a fascinating article on how Dutch Edam became a Filipino Christmas staple, click here)
Tools
Stand mixer with whisk attachment and dough hook
Plastic wrap/clean kitchen towel
Rolling pin
Parchment paper
Directions
In the bowl of a stand mixer, combine yeast, 1/2 teaspoon of sugar and 3 tablespoons lukewarm water. Let the yeast bloom, loosely covered with plastic wrap or a kitchen towel, for 7-12 minutes until foamy and activated.
With the mixer’s whisk attachment in place, add 3 eggs yolks, 3/4 cup of flour and 1/4 cup sugar and whisk on low-medium speed till smooth. Cover again with the plastic wrap/towel and let sit for 60-90 minutes until very bubbly.
Add salt, 3 remaining egg yolks, 1/4 cup sugar and 2 1/4 cups flour. Replace the whisk attachment with a dough hook and mix on medium-low for 6 to 8 minutes. Dough will begin to smooth but will still be very sticky at this point.
Add the room-temperature butter 1 tablespoon at a time, mixing each tablespoon for about 1 minute before adding the next. The dough should now be more elastic.
Cover the bowl with the plastic wrap/towel and let it rise in a warm area for 2 hours until it has doubled in size.
Punch down the dough and divide it into 12 equal pieces (I like to break out my trusty kitchen scale for this to make sure they’re roughly even). The dough will be very soft and slightly sticky, so dust your hands and rolling surface with flour as needed.
Roll the pieces into loose ball shapes.
Using a flour-dusted rolling pin, roll each ball flat. Brush the flattened dough with the melted butter, then sprinkle it with sugar and grated pecorino Romano.
Starting at the near edge of the dough, use your hands to roll the flattened dough into a cylindrical log, as you would for cinnamon rolls. Continue rolling the log until it grows thinner and wider, about 9-12 inches in length.
Starting at one side of the dough log, curl the dough into a pinwheel/cinnamon roll shape. Press the end into the roll to secure it. Place the pinwheels onto a baking sheet lined in parchment paper, leaving 1-2 inches of space between the rolls. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let them rise for 30-45 minutes until puffy and springy.
As they rise, heat oven to 325 degrees.
Bake for 20-25 minutes until golden brown. While they’re still hot, brush the rolls with more melted butter, then shower them generously in the grated Edam and any leftover pecorino. Finish with a sprinkle of sugar for crunch and sweetness.
Enjoy immediately. Cover and refrigerate any leftovers; reheat them for 20-30 seconds in the microwave before eating.
