‘“Binlid,” even 100 hundred
percent of it, is simply of poor eating quality.’
A week back, we expressed
suspicion that Agriculture Secretary Arthur Yap was seeking to condition people
into eating low-quality rice when he made a pitch for brown rice.
Yap’s praise for the indisputable health benefits of eating
brown rice did not make sense in the face of the tight supply of the stable,
with the cheapest commercial variety selling for P28 a kilo, an increase of
about a third from previous levels. Brown rice sells for almost double the
prices of white rice, assuming one has the patience to make the rounds of health
food outlets. The reason is that brown rice has a short shelf life because the
oil in the bran easily turns rancid. While polishing the grains removes the bran
(and the vitamins and minerals in it), the process extends the store life of the
resulting white rice. Economics, in this case, trumps the health benefits of
brown rice.
A few days later, the National Food Authority announced a
tender for the supply of low quality foreign rice. How low in quality, one could
see in the specifications. Of the 500,000 tons covered by the tender, 400,000
tons called for a maximum of 25 percent broken grains ("binlid"), 50,000 tons of
15 percent broken and 50,000 of 5 percent broken.
"Binlid" turns mushy when cooked and, for this reason the
global trade in rice specifies a maximum of 4 percent broken. Grains that do not
meet the specification are sold to brewers of rice wine and to animal feed
formulators.
(Just to counter-check if our information is right on the
acceptable ratio of broken grains, we accessed the website of a government
agency which posted bids for the supply of rice for distribution to its
employees. The bid called for "premium commercial rice" and it specified zero,
repeat, zero brokens.)
"Binlid," even 100 hundred percent of it, is not by any means
unfit for human consumption. It simply is of poor eating quality, a description
which we would be the first to admit is a matter of taste.
And that assertion comes from experience. And so as a matter
of public service, we offer here a tip on how to cook "binlid." Use slightly
less water than normal. Shorten the time needed to "inin" the grains (think "al
dente" as in cooking pasta). Heat a little oil in a "kawali," throw in a few
pieces of crushed garlic, then proceed to fry the rice as "sinangag."
We don’t expect to see the concoction being served on the
table of Art, or of Doña Gloria. But it can fill the growling stomach of
peasants like us.
How did we learn the recipe for "binlid?" In our youth, we were fed the slop.
The president at the time, if memory serves, was named Macapagal.
