 Indigenous
Food in Manila
Finding
high-quality, indigenous food in Manila can be a challenge.
But John Krich unearths an emerging culinary culture that's moving
beyond sludgy stews and bland buffets.
The Insider's Guide
to Great Asian Restaurants.
Part 10: Manila
MANILA -- It sounded like
every foodie's dream. Considerable buzz
among Manila's fashionable elite led me down the dark alleys of an
unfashionably industrial area to the artsy oasis of a private Spanish-
style home transformed into a colorful restaurant called Fat
Michael's.
Groups of young Filipino
yuppies crowded the veranda, waiting for
tables -- another promising sign. Inside was a convivial clubhouse,
one seemingly eternal birthday party staged around tables set aglow
by lamps covered with lace kerchiefs, surrounded with haphazard piles
of eccentric bric-a-brac, old magazines and hanging beads. It's a
decor that Fat Michael's mother, an architect-turned-head-waitress
in
the interest of her family's shared passion for cooking,
terms "shabby chic."
But then came the dishes,
a sort of haute junk food ordered from
chalkboards, far more shabby than chic and sadly not reflective of
the uniquely soulful warmth exuded by everyone in sight: a rubbery
Cajun fish; tough chunks of salpicao, or marinated tenderloin beef
tips; "rosemary chicken" drowned in a TV-dinner-style gravy;
a squid
salad that was mostly iceberg lettuce and, for dessert, typical
American pancakes with scoops of vanilla ice cream.
Yes, Virginia, the Philippines
is different.
Few countries in Asia can
offer such a bounty of native ingredients --
from the world's most succulent yellow carabao mangoes to the
highest-grade tuna from General Santos. Even fewer are food-obsessed
enough to eat five times daily (with the merienda, or snack, the
Philippines' national pastime). And yet, no other major center in
the
region puts out or puts up with such a general level of mediocre to
downright awful eats. It combines the worst of cheesy Yankee
franchising with a South Seas subsistence mentality and a weakness
for pork that's a hangover from 300 years of Spanish rule.
The fact is, truly great
Filipino cuisine, at best an acquired taste
with its heavy emphasis on vinegary adobo stews and fatty cuts, is
better prepared by loving family hands. "Why should people pay
more
to eat Filipino when they can have better at home?" says chef
Fernando Aracama, of fusion restaurant Uva in the upscale Greenbelt
restaurant complex. "And how many ways can you find to make adobo?"
For this reason, Manila
presents a challenge like no other in trying
to discover eateries that are both genuinely indigenous and honestly
delicious. (At the start of this exercise, one expat wag advised that
I would find guidance to local Filipino delights at the Web site
biohazard.com). In service of my Quixotic cause, this intrepid
glutton risked cholesterol overload and hypoglycemic shock, daring
stubbornly to go where most gourmet-conscious Filipinos themselves
would not dare tread: namely, to restaurants that still dare to call
their menus Filipino.
Never did so many contenders
for culinary glory fall by the wayside --
felled by frequent changes in management, listless preparation,
fresh blue marlin utterly destroyed by over-grilling, or too much
cornstarch in the peanut sauce for the Philippines' signature ox-tail
stew, kare-kare. For much of 10 days, I endured intractable highway
jams in the pursuit of grilled tuna tails served cold and congealed,
or late-night, karaoke-accompanied sips of bulale, a humble soup of
beef marrow and cabbage that somehow drives the locals wild.
And then there were those
downright falsified attempts at world
fusion, like one trendy establishment whose appetizer of shiitake
mushrooms with pancetta turned out to be portabella mushrooms
sandwiched between slabs of American ham (or was it Spam?) on toasted
white bread.
An underdeveloped economy
and underdeveloped taste buds seem to go
hand-in-hand here. Where the pocketbook rules over flavor, many
ambitious young chefs say they cannot utilize a high level of
ingredients lest they jack up their prices. But that hasn't stopped
this new generation of chefs groping to create what has been
termed "nouvelle Pinoy" or "modern Filipino cuisine"
-- moving beyond
the tired formulas of folkloric "Barrio Fiesta" buffets
that are long
on quantity but short on creativity, trying to pull together the
varied, often pig-oriented output of 76 provinces spread across an
entire hungry archipelago.
 In
the past five years, Manila's restaurant scene has exploded-in part
thanks to these chefs setting up shop in areas such as the splashy
new Greenbelt development. Next to property developer Ayala Land's
long-time center of Makati shopping, the Glorietta mall, the two Greenbelt
buildings have endless restaurants -- 37 by one official count, but
nearly 90 if one adds food-court outlets. It
creates what Ayala Land spokeswoman Myrna Fernandez terms one "urban
retail entertainment center."
Housed in U.S. architectural
firm Callison's jutting, curved
pavilions, you can find the latest experiments in so-called modern
Filipino cuisine at places such as Uva, Ebun, Sentro and Nuvo; or
go for everything from Turkish to Mexican to all manner of Mediterranean
fare. And none of this culinary concentration happened by accident.
During its three years of construction, carefully selected panels
of taste testers tried out restaurateurs. While they wanted experienced
managers, they also required owners and chefs to come up with new
names and concepts. As a result, the Greenbelt 2 development in
particular, offers one-stop shopping in terms of those curious about
the direction of fancy Filipino or even European fusion cuisine here.
"This is the Mecca
now, raising the culinary bar for everywhere
else," says Uva chef Mr. Aracama. "People in Manila may
be too
faddish, and too concerned with interior design. But this is our
chance to put some of the best of the Philippines into dishes that
are essentially Western in technique -- and see if it's really
accepted."
There is also hope beyond
the glitzy strips appealing to a limited
crowd's excess cash. Seafood markets, stacked with the finest hauls,
offer ihaw-ihaws (sizzling charcoal grillers) to finish off a fresh
chunk of tuna or a clutch of tiger shrimps. And, while badly under-
represented in the nation's traffic-clogged capital, you can also
go
further afield to find fabulous regional fare, from barracuda grilled
on Visayan beaches, to the marinated raw clam kinilaw of southernmost
Mindanao, or the coconut-bathed casseroles of southern Luzon's
volcanic Bicol.
Still, I came to appreciate
the democratic mix of arcane and profane
dishes offered on so many local menus in the city -- for instance,
Cafe Ysabel, a restored mansion that also houses a culinary academy,
offers sea bass with hazelnut butter cream and French filet mignon
classics like tournedos Rossini, alongside the Reuben sandwich,
pepperoni pizza and a butterscotch dessert called Peter Pan Pie.
I was reminded that real
Filipino cooking is still alive and worthy
of discovery thanks to considerable help from filmmaker and foodie
Joey Tam; Flip Magazine food columnist Squid Vicious and his wife
Nancy; photographer/chef Robin Moyer and Boots; Ma-An and Alex
Hontiveros; as well as Personal Journal's own intrepid bon vivant
Eric Bellman. And I found signs of hope in the dedication of chefs
like Mr. Aracama. "We're a country still looking for our culinary
identity," he admits. "Putting together the food of 7,000
islands
isn't easy."
Until then, the restaurants
listed here may not be a best of the best
so much as they are the best of the least worst. But in the quickie
food mart that is Manila, that should make for a pretty good start.
---
Send comments to john.krich@awsj.com
---
The Restaurants
Sosing's Carinderia
Unfortunately, most travelers
are first exposed to the wonders -- and
horrors -- of Filipino cuisine in massive buffet houses, where
endless urns of brown, congealed stews sit quivering alongside
folkloric South Seas shows and crooning, barong clad waiters.
Sosing's, a legendary street-corner stall, is also a so-called turo-
turo -- meaning "point point" at whatever you want on display.
But
the pots full of food here offer a more honest, and succulent,
introduction to the fare that sustains and inspires 70 million
people.
Sosing's, all plastic sidewalk
tables and tin roof, sits beside a
tire-repair shop in a ramshackle area between the high-finance towers
of Makati and the more low-rise, low-end Malate. It won its
underground fame as a pit stop for taxi drivers and has been going
strong for more than 20 years. According to chatty waitress Carmen
Albacin, a former domestic helper in Hong Kong who returned home to
become the elected captain of her barangay (district) almost two
decades ago, the crew starts its shift with a visit to the local
markets at three each morning, and starts its stewing magic by five.
The results of such loyalty
to labor-intensive methods are obvious at
first sight and bite. While much of Filipino street food features
pork or chicken hauled straight from a deep-fryer, Sosing's main draw
is the nilaga, a hearty, un-fatty beef broth. The classic adobo stew
made with chicken or pork -- in this case whole chicken legs cooked
in soy and vinegar -- was remarkably light. Instead of the usual
heavy residue of vinegar and soy, this dish had its flavor imbued
in
the soft, slightly sweet drumsticks. Equally tasty was squid cooked
in its ink, and sayote (or the gourd known in the U.S. as chayote)
with chunks of pork. And when Sosing's does a caldereta (beef rib
stew), a sauce of fresh tomatoes and onions still clings to each
piece of meat -- a far cry from the more common, gravy-dripping
varieties reminiscent of the Dinty Moore's canned stew from the U.S.
Forget the old fear of
Filipino cuisine as all-brown food, all the
time. As the Filipino friend who accompanied me was quick to point
out, at Sosing's, every dish looks, and tastes, completely bright
and
distinctive. It's a testament to the wonders that can sometimes be
found besides tire shops -- if you know where to look.
+ Filipino stews done with
heart.
- Smell of rubber from
the neighbors.
Sosing's Carinderia, 5819
Zobel Roxas St., corner Dian St., Makati
(from Pablo Ocampo Sr. Ave., go past South superhighway and turn left
at Zobel Roxas St.). No tel. Open: 8 a.m. to 8 p.m., except Sundays.
Prices: $1 to $2 per dish. No credit cards accepted.
Gaudi
One of the distinctive
features of Manila's dining scene is the large
presence of Spanish cooking, the edible residue of 300 years of
colonial rule. Unfortunately, most of the menus at these Iberian
outposts haven't been updated for centuries either. Roast suckling
pig, fried potatoes and equally greasy chorizo-sausage packed
renditions of the classic paella are the staples, and the decor is
usually just as heavy: full of pewter dishware, imitation crests and
medallions that date back to the days of Zorro.
The minute you walk into
Gaudi, you know things are different. Set
amid a chaotic, American-style food strip skirting Makati's business
district, this is a cheery, sophisticated oasis with azure mosaics,
terrazzo flooring and fanciful curves of wood in the surreal manner
of the visionary Barcelona architect for whom the restaurant is
named.
"No more Castilian
fare, no more mounted heads of the bull -- we want
to educate Filipinos in how Spaniards eat now," says proprietress
Alexandra Cacho about the place she and her husband, Francisco,
opened last December, having returned to the land of their birth
after a 20-year stay in Spain's gourmet capital, San Sebastian.
The result can be tasted
in delightful pinxtos -- appetizers on bread
rounds, such as baked Camembert in raspberry sauce or oil-marinated
tuna with red peppers. The yellow fabado (stew) features giant, al
dente Asturian white beans and chunks of Serrano ham, a perfect
combination of saltiness and soft fibers. (The ham is also on sale
by
the whole leg at Gaudi's small deli counter, along with Manchego
cheese rounds and Spanish wines.) A light Catalan fish stew offers
so
much seafood (mussels, squid, clams, etc.) that it is served with
a
fork. And even the patatas de pobre (thin scalloped potatoes) are
memorably flavorful and not too oily. The Valhondo house red wine
is
surprisingly decent and the meal can finish well with the
concentrated yellow egg dessert of tocino de cielo.
Gaudi also serves paella,
but Mrs. Cacho says these simply feature
seafood or Spanish sausages and are not some confused catchall. For
those who remain wedded to meatier fare, Australian lamb and prime
ribs are also specialties, simply roasted with garlic. Too bad the
baked artichoke hearts came from a can -- but even so long after the
country's conquest in the name of King Philip II, not all Spanish
cuisine can be replicated so many leagues away.
+ Spanish heritage updated
with pride and style.
- Some European ingredients
can't be replicated.
Gaudi, 114 Jupiter St.,
Bel-Air Village, Makati (on the right side
after left turn off Makati Avenue). Tel: 632-897-2672. Open: daily,
11 a.m. to past midnight. Prices: $4 to $12 per dish, set lunches
$5.
Major credit cards accepted.
Laing, atbp.
The raison d'etre for this
small home-style restaurant is laing
(pronounced lah-eng), the signature dish of Bicol, a southern-Luzon
province renowned for a cooking style more closely resembling that
of
the country's Southeast Asian neighbors -- with an emphasis on
coconut milk and hot chilies. Like many other regions, Bicol is sadly
under-represented in the restaurants of the Philippine capital. But
this one, family-run outlet single-handedly makes up for that.
One bite of any of the
daily specialties, set in a display case
before the back kitchen, will make diners forget the aqua-green
concrete walls and ceiling festooned with climbing green plastic
foliage. The dish for which the place is named -- laing -- is often
a
soupy melange of coconut milk and gabi leaves (taro-root plant). But
here it is reduced to an unforgettable, intense mash of tart greens
with only a kiss of coconut and pork fat. The Brina family, which
started Laing, atbp. nine years ago, claims to hail from the small
Bicol town that grows the very best taro leaves, which relatives
bring to Manila weekly.
The "atbp." in
the restaurant's title is the Filipino abbreviation
for etcetera. And the other dishes here are rightly stars on their
own: hunks of fresh jackfruit mixed with heavily smoked sardine meat;
a Chinese-style bitter gourd mixed with baby shrimps; chunks of pork
binagoongan, smothered in an intense fish paste; even a ground pork
a
la Cubana that's an excellent rendition of the raisin-laced
picadillo, which is that other former Spanish colony's favorite
ground-meat accompaniment to rice. There's not just love in these
dishes, but a creativity rarely seen in other Filipino restaurants.
Service is primarily help-yourself,
but movie stars and bigwigs
frequent the place because it's located across a busy road from LVN
Pictures Inc., one of the country's oldest film studios. Some of the
A-list crowd have even
offered to help the Brina family set up a
fancier establishment in a better part of town. But, thankfully,
nothing is changing for now. Says cousin Ledda Docot, a university
student, "We want to feel comfortable here, dress as we like,
and we
want all walks of life to enjoy our food."
+ A humble, but flavorful
representative of coconut-laced Bicol
cuisine.
- Limited to a half-dozen
or so dishes daily.
Laing, atbp., 33 P. Tuazon
Boulevard, Cubao, Quezon City (taxis will
know LVN, the restaurant is opposite the main gate, usually reached
from N. Domingo St. that stretches from San Juan to Cubao.) Tel: 632-
724-6932. Open: 8 a.m. to 9 p.m., closed Sundays. Prices: All dishes
under $1. No credit cards accepted.
Sushi Tsumura
Japanese food has always
been well represented in Manila, thanks to
the large Japanese business presence as well as the abundance of
Philippine tuna and other sea catches long exploited by the islands'
fish-craving neighbors to the north. There's actually a Little Tokyo
on the outskirts of Makati, along with several blocks of Tokyo-style
high-rises where swank izakayas (one-chef eateries) alternate with
grotty hostess bars.
Sushi Tsumura is located
in one such dreary building, but entering
the lair of Masamichi "Michael" Tsumura you immediately
know you're
in for something special. The interior is calming, dominated by a
giant trickling, waterfall and offset with a long curvaceous sushi
bar. Mr. Tsumura, 55, must be the archetypal sushi chef: stocky in
white kimono and slanted black cap, gruff, gravel-voiced and down-to-
earth, yet intensely aware of every shred of sea product consumed
at
his bar or in several separate glassed-in rooms. A trained master
of
the slicing art even before he moved from Japan to the Philippines
22
years back (where he has stayed thanks to his Filipina wife), Mr
Tsumura is by now equally expert at making the best use of the local
sea's seasonal bounty.
The menu here is large,
but largely irrelevant, as Mr. Tsumura will
make sashimi or rolls, or will grill up just about anything you
request. It's best to go with his recommendations for what's fresh:
in my case, that meant paper-thin raw lapu-lapu, its red-spotted skin
carved into decorative florets, with a special gingery dipping sauce;
the least-acid sea urchin I've ever eaten; an amazing roll of fatty
Philippine toro (tuna) mashed up with green onions; and superbly
marinated eggplant and squid. And, once Mr. Tsumura sees that you're
properly appreciating his fare, he'll start sending over samples of
other delicacies, such as fresh white octopus eggs and superbly
unfishy local ear-shaped abalone. He also has an outstanding
selection of sake, into which he hand-grinds sesame seeds.
With a flow of Japanese
clients, Mr. Tsumura fairly begged to be left
off this list. Too bad for him. He's just too good.
+ One of the best sushi
bars south of Okinawa.
- Only the guilt of eating
so well in such a poor country.
Sushi Tsumura, third floor,
828 Arnaiz Ave. (formerly Pasay Rd.),
Makati (from Makati Avenue, turn right on Arnaiz Ave/Pasay Rd., one
block east of Greenbelt complex). Tel: 632-812-1393. Open: 6 p.m.
to
midnight, Monday to Friday; also open 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. for lunch,
weekends. Prices: Average $30 per person. Major credit cards
accepted.
Trellis
Founded 22 years back,
this pleasantly sprawling, teak-columned
outdoor restaurant is the granddaddy of so-called grills, the main
form of eating-out that Filipinos favor. At these casual, sprawling
and usually open-air affairs, you can get just about any sort of fish
or meat simply done on the large griddles. Over the years, hundreds
have copied Trellis's basic formula and dishes, but the original
still gets the nod for sticking to authentically Filipino flavors.
Everyone comes here first
and foremost for the sisig, a treat from
the Pampanga region just north of Manila. Finely chopped pork meat,
liver and even pigs ears are thrown together and seared, mixing into
a tasty, slightly vinegary mess. But Trellis also attracts a loyal
clientele with its burong hipon, a mildly fermented rice flavored
with shrimps that's surprisingly pleasant as a salty dip for cooked
greens and slices of eggplant. And the agat na puso ng saging, or
tender, soft leaves of banana heart tossed with pork crackling,
nearly replicates the pleasures of a musky mushroom dish.
While not a seafood specialist,
Trellis does a fine job grilling tiny
farmed bangus (milk fish), and whole squids flavored with just enough
vinegar marinade (luckily without the usual local stuffing of cheddar
cheese). The daring can also tackle the fresh green mango slices
dipped in acrid shrimp paste. But even without this typically bracing
accompaniment, Trellis offers painless, easy-to-swallow Filipino fare
in a vast, garden-like atmosphere that is pleasant without being
pretentious.
+ An archetypal grill with
authentic specialties.
- Sticks to the uncreative
basics.
Trellis, 40 Matalino St.,
Diliman, Quezon City (from Makati, go to
Quezon City through EDSA Ave. Passing Cubao and Kamias, turn right
onto Quezon Memorial Circle, then second right onto East Ave. Just
past the Philippine Heart Center on East Ave., turn right past the
Sulo Hotel, and Trellis is on the right side at the end of this
road). Tel: 632-921-7237. Open: 11 a.m. to 1 a.m., except Sundays.
Prices: Full meal $5 per person. Accepts Visa and Mastercard.
Sala
Every city in Asia deserves
a Western restaurant like this. To
founder and chef Colin MacKay, Sala's menu is "modern European"
-- in
this case, meaning standard French dishes done with a dose of flair,
quality ingredients and, thankfully, few outlandish fusion additions.
The flagship of a culinary empire that also includes Thai and Italian
outlets, Sala succeeds in creating what Mr. MacKay
terms "approachable high cuisine." The wayward Scotsman
opened the
restaurant in 1997 and loyal clients say it has been delivering
consistently every since.
It's a respite from the
usual, status -- preoccupied Western fare
here: the fancy stiffness of hotel French restaurants; the truffle-
laced price-gouging of the highly-rated Lolo Dad's (a once family-
style restaurant off Taft Ave. that seems to have gone heavily into
status foods); or the outlandish combinations that pass for Filipino
fusion at new experimental outposts like 12 (which owner Elbert
Cuenca describes as "a playground for chefs").
Instead, Sala boasts hyper-friendly
service from chatty waiters in an
understated, mint-green room open to the main street of Malate's most
fashionable block (crowded mostly with the gay disco crowd on the
weekends). Neither the wine list nor the menu are especially
extensive. But everything here tastes as good, or better, than
advertised, beginning with fluffy codfish croquettes; a prawn souffle
scented with fresh dill; or a crespelle (crepe) stuffed with goat
cheese. For the main course, tender lamb chops are successfully
marinated in yogurt and cumin, and copious slices of duck breast are
mounted on still crunchy baked pears and a perfectly executed, flaky
yet unobtrusive onion tartlet. Finish it off with a pavlova of mango
and passionfruit, a Sala staple that, like all the rest, is less
showy than it sounds, and twice as lip-smacking.
+ Ample Western food that
works.
- Sticks to familiar combinations.
Sala, 610 J. M. Nakpil
St., Malate (from Makati, take Taft Ave. and
turn left to Nakpil St. toward main car area; also walking distance
from Remedios Circle). Tel. 632-524-6770. Open: 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m.,
7 p.m. to 11 p.m., Sundays 6 p.m. to 10 p.m. Prices: Average $18 per
person, without wine. Major credit cards accepted.
Uva
More than 30 upscale eateries
now compete in the trendy Greenbelt
entertainment complex in Makati's Ayala Center, each vying for retail
glory with a version of so-called "nouvelle Pinoy," or "modern
Filipino cuisine." In nearly all cases, this actually means Western
fusion cooking with native ingredients thrown in. That's largely the
case at Uva, which recently moved from Quezon City to its new, rather
impersonal two-story venue in the Ayala Center. But thanks to the
sincerity and the originality of young chef Fernando Aracama, this
is
where any exploration of Manila's latest culinary turf wars has to
begin.
Trained in Vermont's New
England Culinary Academy, but fiercely loyal
to his native land's cooking traditions, Mr. Aracama has been at the
forefront of a loosely organized movement aimed at offering an
improved and standardized presentation of Filipino food to the world.
He actually calls one section of his menu "noble attempts,"
and he
means it. Mr. Aracama's menu also apologizes in advance for the
kitchen's "shortcomings," and, more playfully, offers "reading
glasses on request" for those who find the minimalist typeface
too
small or inscrutable.
:SUBJECT: FOOD BEVG FDRW AGRI PHLP JAPN USA
With his penchant for cross-cultural
tinkering, Mr. Aracama's fare is
sure to change frequently, but the combinations that currently work
best include his reinvention of the lumpia (egg roll) into a peanut-
bathed cake of julienned vegetables, with the usual dough wrapper
a
crisp biscuit; a risotto thickened, reddened and transformed by taba
ng talangka (tart crab fat); his breaded veal chops enlivened with
a
spread of green mangoes fried with capers; a lamb shank scented with
star anise and surrounded by Spanish garbanzo beans; a filet of
local, meaty tilapia fish mounted on a bed of mushrooms and reduced
in vinegary adobo; and his dessert of crunchy rice cakes surrounded
by pieces of fresh mango and a traditional treatment of molasses
syrup.
Less successful are the
"Not Joe's," as in Mexican nachos, where
minced pork adobo and mango salsa don't do much for soggy strips of
fried flour tortilla chips, or the pasta pobrecito -- spaghetti with
local dried fish flakes and some chilies that don't quite add enough
zest.
While the service is friendly,
if a tad slow, the bland modernist
setting doesn't do much to distinguish Uva from all the neighboring
trendy eateries. For Mr. Aracama, however, the point isn't gastronomy
so much as ethnography.
He's truly out to preserve
the best of Filipino flavor in some
newfangled packaging. Check him out while he makes the "noble
effort"
at Uva.
+ Caring combinations of
gourmet fare with Filipino ingredients.
- Some fusion experiments
fall flat.
Uva, First floor, Greenbelt
2, Ayala Center, Makati (in the furthest
building from Makati Ave. as you enter the new development). Tel:
632-
757-4243. Open: daily, 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., 6 p.m. to midnight. Prices:
full meal, $14 per person. Major credit cards accepted.
Bistro Remedios
Larry J. Cruz is Manila's
restaurateur par excellence, a cigar-
puffing bon vivant and former press secretary for Ferdinand Marcos
who has helped put Malate's entire entertainment district on the map
(its development being one of the high points of the post-Marcos era
in the late 1980s). Along with Bistro Remedios, Mr. Cruz owns
numerous restaurants in the area, imparting his own particular
festive feeling to each.
Before Mr. Cruz, there
wasn't much reason to troll around Remedios
Circle, although most nights in the past, you could find Mr. Cruz
himself presiding over the party at the Havana Cafe, immaculately
dressed, chugging on a big Cuban cigar, his white beard setting off
a
round face -- just as you'll now find him in the new Havana Cafe at
Ayala Center's Greenbelt complex.
While these new sanitized
venues have lured many of the expats and
beautiful people away from Malate, the LJC restaurants remain. And
while Bistro Remedios, started in 1984 and moved to its present homey
locale in 1998, may not even be the best of the bunch, it is the most
solid and the most touching. This is a nostalgic, if not always
perfect, tribute to the rich food of the Pampanga province where Mr.
Cruz grew up.
As with his other restaurants
around Remedios Circle, the setting is
bright and jolly, featuring folk art and glass lampshades. Its open
glass facade also makes it a great place for people watching. Often
full of well-heeled Filipino families and various local movers and
shakers, the restaurant is attended by a mostly male staff in
traditional barong tagalog tunics.
The menu is ecumenical
-- and packs a wallop. You can try anything,
from the famed crisp-fried pork knuckles to stuffed frogs to stews
of
quail or pork liver, to the blander bangus, stuffed with raisins.
Unfortunately, the bistro
suffers from an unevenness caused by trying
to do too much. A Filipino friend found the standard sinigang soup
with pork much too salty, and oddly, the tail of fresh tanigue fish
was equally over-seasoned. Still, this is probably the one place on
earth where I looked forward to a heaping plate of rice paddy
crickets (kamaru), cooked dry but imbued with soy sauce and garlic
that makes each semi-crisp mouthful of bug go down easily.
+ Festive atmosphere, large
selection of Pampanga food.
- Quality control.
Bistro Remedios, 1911 M.
Adriatico St., Remedios Circle, Malate (a
few doors down from Havana Cafe, away from the Circle). Tel: 632-523-
9153. Hours: daily, 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., 6 p.m. to 11 p.m. Cost: $4
per
dish. Major credit cards accepted.
Catches of the Day
As nearly every Filipino
will tell you, the best meals in the country
are not in the proliferation of "singing waiter" restaurants,
fast-
food fryers or street stalls, but in fish plucked from the native
seas of the central Visayan islands and southernmost Mindanao. But
you can't exactly sit on the beach and wait for your fresh barracuda
in the midst of Manila. Fortunately, there are two working fish
markets serving the capital that also host numerous food stalls and
sit-down restaurants that will cook to order any paluto (freshly
bought items).
Of the two markets, the
Seaside Fish Market, facing Manila Bay just
off Roxas Boulevard (close to the historic Baclaran church), is small
but upscale, catering to a greater number of foreigners and tourists
than the other market. Aisles are clean, with the higher-priced cuts
of blue marlin, tuna and tanigue taken from Philippine waters always
on ice. There's also whole pompano, massive squid, scallops in the
shell, an exotic selection of brightly marked lobsters and giant
prawns. Aling Letty's food stall down the block from the market
offers a somewhat disappointing fish buffet, but the better bet is
to
take your filets to the wok-fryers at Aling Tonya's, a bare-bones
eatery built into the back of the market. Stairs up a trap door lead
to a dining room crowded with families chowing down on their just-
cooked catch, served simply on placemats of fresh banana leaf. A
squeeze of kalamansi, the wonderful local lime, completes the meal.
The competing Dampa Fish
Market is set back from a busy highway
leading toward the Manila airport, on the way to the center of the
poorer southern district of Paranaque. The surroundings are a bit
grimier and smellier, the selection somewhat more basic. But the
advantage here is that the entire long driveway leading to the
market, and the large courtyard to one side, are lined with competing
restaurants that have set up large charcoal grills, with coals ready
to heat and singe brought-in ingredients.
At one typical two-story
restaurant called Julie's Ihaw-Ihaw (ihaw
means grill) they advised putting my flank of fresh tuna belly into
a
pleasant tamarind-soured sinigang na miso with radishes. They also
made a delightful salad out of the not-to-be-missed lato (grape-like
buds of gelatinous seaweed) but somewhat over-seared several thick
marlin slices. In fact, the main pitfall here is that most of the
places seem to grill the fish to the point of complete carbonization.
(They also take superbly fresh mussels and drown them in a sauce made
of ketchup and processed white cheese.)
But if you can stop the
competing and over-enthusiastic charcoalers
from tampering too much with your paluto, you can't go wrong at
either place.
Seaside Fish Market, Roxas
Boulevard, Baclaran (on service road
parallel to Roxas, just south of Baclaran church). Dampa Fish Market,
Ninoy Aquino Ave., San Dioniso, Paranaque (on right side, heading
from central Manila on main access road to Ninoy Aquino airport).
Open: at both markets most
restaurants open 8 a.m. to 11 p.m. daily.
Aling Tonya's at Seaside opens at 5 a.m. Prices: Depends on daily
market price and haggling abilities; a feast of ample-size steaks
of
tuna belly and blue marlin can be had for under $6, cooking charges
average $1 per item. No credit cards accepted.
-- John Krich
---
John Krich's Top Five Manila
Dishes
Delicate: Lapu-lapu sashimi
at Sushi Tsumura
1. Sashimi of lapu-lapu
fish at Sushi Tsumura.
2. Jackfruit with smoked
sardines at Laing, atbp.
3. Squid in its own ink
at Sosing's.
4. Grilled blue marlin
with seaweed salad at Danpa Fish Market.
5. A tie -- risotto mekeni
(rice with crab fat) at Uva or burong
hipon (fermented rice dip) at Trellis.
By John Krich
Source: The
Asian Wall Street Journal
Date: February 14, 2003
Section: PERSONAL JOURNAL
Page: P1
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