Let's talk about cravings, not the physical or emotional longings, but the gastronomical types.

Some days of the month, I know women who crave for chocolates -from cream puffs, fudges to mousses. I know a few who dream of pizzas and spaghetti and get attacks similar to hard substance withdrawal syndromes when deprived. Still others fantasize about ice cream, pickled cucumbers and taco chips all within an hour.

My taste buds' object of immense desire is very Filipino and requires trans-atlantic shipment 6,700 air miles away. I'm talking about the Philippine anchovy, 'bagoong'.

Here in Germany, there is a cheese called 'Handkaese.' To unused nostrils, this cheese smells like feet that have not been washed for three days. If you leave this cheese uncovered inside your refrigerator, everything in your ref --from butter to leftover chicken ala-Kiev would smell of unwashed feet. Unfortunately, my husband loves 'Handkaese'. He likes it prepared as a salad --sliced, with onions, olive oil, vinegar, black pepper and salt to taste. Every time he forks a slice of this cheese into his mouth, my facial muscles would cringe. He'd laugh and say: Think of your 'bagoong.'

In the Philippines, 'bagoong' is a staple dish. If you grew up in the country, the mention of the word would make you conjure childhood scenarios of 'bagoong' dips for crispy, green mangoes. It tastes much better when shared with your favorite cousin or friend. If the mango is sour, you both grimaced. Watching each other's pained faces would start laughing convulsions. If you ate it with your boyfriend, mothers and aunts would take silent pleasure in the knowledge that you cannot kiss each other that day.

'Bagoong' enhances the flavors of Philippine dishes called 'pinakbet', 'Bicol Express' and 'kare-kare'. With 'bagoong', all Filipinos are equal, regardless of income tax brackets, alumni associations intellectual affiliations or family origins. An overweight matron in posh Alabang enjoys it as much as the fishball vendor in Buendia Avenue. For expatriate Filipinos, 'bagoong' is a homesick goodie. A serving of it, eaten with fellow Filipinos, is almost like being back home. Well, almost.

The only problem with 'bagoong' is its smell. If the 'Handkaese' smells of unwashed feet, 'bagoong' smells of another anatomical part that has not seen soap and water for a month. (And this time, I'm not talking about feet.) My husband describes it best: "It has to be dead for a long time to smell like it does."

In essence it is true. 'Bagoong' is made from fresh, tiny fishes that are marinated and preserved in big quantities of salt. They are placed in clean jars and made to literally speaking, ferment in their own juices. It is quite salty if eaten by itself. However, when sauteed with vegetables and meat they can even make philandering husbands come home early for dinner.

Here in Germany, it is not easy to cook 'bagoong' without offending husbands, neighbors or pets. I have a Filipina friend who lives close to the firm BASF in Ludwigshafen. BASF produces chemical and industrial products and has been blamed, if not accused, of causing all kinds of enviromental pollution in the area. One summer day, my friend used 'bagoong' to garnish a Philippine dish. Naturally, to get the smell out of her kitchen, she opened the windows. Her mother-in-law happened to be in the garden, merrily chatting with a neighbor. When the smell of my friend's 'bagoong' dish reached the two women, the neighbor said: "BASF stinkt schon wieder." (BASF stinks again.) The mother-in-law was speechless.

I have my own list of do's and dont's on 'bagoong' preparation. Like, I do it when my husband is out of our house. The trick is to open all windows to air the rooms and spray a citrus scented air-freshener before he comes back. The smell however, lingers around wallpaper, curtains and clothes. If the smell stays, change wallpaper, wash curtains and take a shower.

Another good time to cook it is at midnight when husband, neighbors and pets are
asleep. There is a very good chance however that neighbors could wake up from
the odor. Then you're in big trouble.

Avoid meeting the neighbors at the stairwell the following day or tell the 'Hausmeister' you'll be out of the country.

Some advise lighting perfumed candles or meditation sticks to neutralize the smell. I know one who boils vinegar and water at the same time. Using the microwave to heat it likewise isolates the odor, I was told. Whatever. When I want something so bad, I normally get it somehow. I rely on my girlfriend whose house is at the end of the street and can therefore, cook 'bagoong' to her heart's content. She does it without guilt, inhibitions or remorse. It's one of the things I've always wanted to do in this life.

By the way, does anybody know how 'buro' smells? My husband described it this
way: "It is something that has been dead, revived and killed again to smell
the way it does."