NEXT only to lechon as the pride of any handaan, kare-kare or stewed oxtail, has become an everyday “special.” Meaning, something that was fairly easy to whip up for Sunday lunch (in lieu of the standard nilaga or boiled beef) or a fancified feel-good weekday dinner – thanks in large part to premixed packets and pressure cookers and peanut butter in jars. Thanks too to substitutes for oxtail that work just as well (pork pata, beef or all-tripe variations).

While purists may balk at these bastardized versions, there’s something to be said about the sweet hit of the sarsa combined with the sautéed saltiness of the bagoong or shrimp paste, the heft of whatever meat you choose to use that go with the blandness of the rice and tell the happy eater all is well in the world.

In fact, last year, Dr. Ricky Soler wrote Philippine Daily Inquirer’s food columnist, Reggie Aspiras, to say he dug up the origins of dish and said that the Indians who were drafted by the British during the short-lived British invasion of Manila from 1762-1764 and who eventually stayed behind to settle in Cainta, Rizal, brought kare-kare to the Philippines.

In India, the dish is called kaikaari, which is cooked in many spices. “Generally, in India, kari refers to a meal of rice that is primarily eaten with this spicy mixture together with a variety of meat, seafood or vegetables,” Dr. Soler explained. “Therefore, kari is not really a ‘dish’ at all but just a sauce, gravy or stew poured over or mixed with rice and the stated victuals.”

The original Indian kaikaari was made with spices including chilies, mustard, tamarind, coriander, turmeric, cloves, ginger, red and black pepper, cinnamon, black and green cardamom, and roasted cumin seeds. Dr. Soler said that when the spices the Indian settlers brought with them ran out, locals, who had come to love the dish made of beef tripe, oxtail, and ox feet, made do with what was readily available.

“To retain some of the saffron color of the original kari, annatto seeds (achiote) which are more common than our native turmeric (dilao) was substituted for the imported turmeric, and to thicken the mixture, ground roasted rice or peanuts were used. But the version being rather bland in comparison to its precursor, both Sepoys (which the British called its lowest ranking Indian soldiers) and natives took to spicing up the new meal with bagoong alamang,” Dr Soler wrote.

To complete the native transformation, kari was re-christened kari-kari (now spelled as often pronounced). Dr. Soler said the name change could be due to the way Tagalogs repeat a word to mean “like,” or that kari-kari is closer to kaikaari, its original Indian name.

While all that may be fascinating, it’s time to start cooking the sarsa that made at least one Philippine restaurant as famous as the fiestas that made kare-kare a true dish.