Lumpiang Shanghai by Anika Enriquez

Country of Origin: Philippines

Three hours prior to New Year’s Day and panic started to kick in as my dad and aunt still hadn’t finished cooking all the dishes for our midnight dinner. We decided that we’re going to split up the work with the dishes. I hadn’t seen my aunt in over 6 years and I felt this need to connect with her again after so long. Food always connects people, so making lumpia seemed like the perfect opportunity.

I drizzled a bit of oil in a pan, scared that it would splash wildly at me. Then, I put the pork in the sizzling oil to precook it until it became crumbly and then set it aside. With the leftover grease, I sauteed the aromatic garlic and onion in the pan. While I was sauteing the onions and garlic, my aunt talked from the opposite side of the kitchen. “Okay Nika, I chopped all the veggies for you”. Seeing that we didn’t have all the time to make this dish, I was very grateful that she was there to multitask. 

I added the pork back in with the garlic and onion alongside all the vegetables my aunt cooked – orange carrots, fragrant green onions, and sliced cabbage. I stirred them all together and generously added soy sauce for some flavor. I sprinkled some salt and fine garlic powder.. Lastly, I added in the ground black pepper and the filling was done. 

Whenever I sat alone with my aunt, there was a bit of awkward tension. After spending so much time apart growing up, we barely knew anything about each other. She handed me half of the thin and floppy lumpia wrappers in the pack. “Your grandma showed me how to wrap lumpia. Do you already know how?” Auntie Marina asked. I told her that my dad taught me, but I still wanted to learn how she did it.

To assemble the lumpia, I placed a clump of the filling in the middle and spread it out thinly in a horizontal line just as she taught me. The texture was a little mushy and weird paired with the blue gloves I wore. I folded the bottom half over the meat then started rolling from the bottom.

Folding all the lumpia took about 10 minutes and in that amount of time my aunt told me stories about her cooking in the Philippines as well as family stories that I’ve never heard. The routine of folding the lumpia came with laughter and chimes from my dad as he also added in a few things to the conversation. 

Finally, I poured oil in a hot pan again in order to fry the food. I took three lumpia rolls at a time and put them in the oil. The crackling sound of the oil terrified me; I didn’t want to get splattered with it. I turned the lumpia rolls until they were golden brown and crispy, then I took them out and laid them on a piece of paper towel to drain out the excess oil. I was proud. “Woah I actually didn’t burn them look!” I told my aunt.

Midnight of New Year’s Day came and everyone was cheering and celebrating the holiday together. I sat down to eat, very excited to try everything we made. The lumpia was crunchy on the outside but soft on the inside. Just like how it’s supposed to be. From that night emerged two things: good lumpia and a reconnection with family.