Cold Soba Nights

 

The search for Little Tokyo (Pasay Road) has been a long and winding road and the best way to get there is not to plan at all.

That’s how I got there.

Just say: “I want Ramen” and like Harry Potter’s Room of Requirement, the mysterious door appears in front of you! Then you go through this drunken sakura alley and next thing you see is Little Tokyo with the takoyaki ladies and the la-la-lanterns. Pick your choice dining place and eat like it’s the Meiji era.

 

How we ended up at Hana was a combination of accident, timing and good lighting. Since this was an unplanned trip, I never had the chance to research on where to eat, much less how to read signs in Japanese. However the takoyaki lady in Hana who also alternated as waitress and direction giver found the opportunity to seat the wanderers and so we obliged.

 

No reason can explain why I did not order the takoyaki balls which are quite a steal at P120. Perhaps this gives us a good reason to return. Unplanned of course!

Sumimasen for the blurry photos. The place was dark.

The tako karaage was supposed to serve as the pescatorian appetizer (domo) and was ungreasy and very tender, despite the form of the animal it originated from. To be dipped in salt, ah yes, quite an under the sea re-enactment.

 

The Tempura Soba was the highlight of my meal, warm and sweet—just perfect for my cold! With perfectly fried tempura and chewy soba noodles making the ensemble, it was a fabulous dish for anyone in search of the perfect noodles! Sadly for me who cannot just delight in ramen (because of the pork stock) the soba offers the better alternative.

With the noodles so hauntingly rich and the flavor bursting with soy wonder, I believe there is nothing little about Little Tokyo.

And yes, I ought to come back. “Eat again, I must,” as Rurouni Kenshin would say.

As for me, Ja ne! See you later!

 

Kenji Tei: Ramen Night!

Hontou ni? Ramen houses must hate me; what a sad way to treat the cat that came up with Ramen Night at Kenji Tei (Greenbelt 5).

With the prevalence of chashu and pork shio and all that animal fat, it seems that ramen night was not made for vegetarians. But still, I persist. I cannot end ramen night without enjoying a single noodle sliding down my throat.

And so after interrogating the waiter to the point of almost unearthing Kenji Tei’s soupy secret, we managed to come to an agreement without having to resort to yaki soba, which I pointed out is a big no-no.

Cold ramen. It is summer anyway.

The Hiyashi Chuka (Cold Ramen) with sesame miso dressing (Hiyashi Goma Miso) came with pork slices which I asked to be magically turned into more veggies. The result is a chilled half bowl topped with tamago, cucumber and tomato slices. The presentation was lackluster was the flavor was sublimely sour and perfectly meat-free. The noodles were firmly chewy and drenched in sesame-miso, was absolutely apt as a summer salad!

The cheese gyoza seemed to be quite a hit, though sadly its pork composition could not be managed, altered and totally removed. Ah well, it was interesting watching others delight in this fried delicacy. Other shots of the dinner.

And of course what inspired Ramen Night.*sigh* Itadakimasu!

Look at my birthday note! Arigatou, Miji-kun!

Cucina Andare: What the Truck!

Coming across Cucina Andare at the Glorietta open area was kismet; closing hours evicted mallrats and drove them to the open field. From afar the vicinity appeared like a lackluster Sunday congregation, but the sweet smoke from barbecued somethings said otherwise.

Cucina Andare has the same vibe as the usual Mercato/Mezza Norte stalls, since not all fares are offered from trucks. While I was scouring for anything Mexican or green, my gastronomic senses failed me, or maybe it was because I just hated looking up to read the menu. With this imaginary neck brace, there was no choice but to seek refuge in the tent of stalls.

No mother trucker for now anyway. Not until I get this laziness fixed.

At the sight of the pad thai stall, my earlier quests were dispelled. Forget the greens and cheese, the noodles supersede my prior demands—as I am going through the pad thai phase which hopefully will end in the next quarter unless poverty gets the better of me.

To simplify things—yes I like the proprietor’s thinking—there is only one variant (pad thai with chicken and shrimp) and a fixed price (P100). Away with the menus and the do-you-want-chicken-or-shrimp conundrums. Promote efficiency so that the chef need not think much and revert to his mindless musing. Less sweat too.

The pad thai is rather hefty in its wee bowl and the toppings are grandly selected: chicken, shrimp, egg, tofy, green onion and bean sprouts. Topped with garlic, peanuts and sugar as a final offertory (I preferred to abstain from the last 2 items) this is one steaming bowl of thai bliss. With all flavors present but not that overpowering, this is quite a catch for a locally prepared pad thai.

Having no place to sit we ended up feasting on the grass. Carabao grass, sans the ants and other biological matter. What the truck, this was probably why I’m going for seconds the next time around!

Bubba Gump: Run, Fried Food, Run!

Bubba Gump‘s mission is to spread forth shrimp in all forms of batter, cooking method, shape and dip. But it does have a secondary task – unknown to most –  to bless all diners with an oily fried fiesta – only those sane (and fast) enough should Run, From-the Fried-Food, Run!

Which brings us to the convenience of placing newspaper-cum-blotting-paper on every dish to act as those oil absorbing sheets that do better jobs than the pint-sized Gatsby. If you thought this was mainly for aesthetic purposes and that “My name is Forrest Gump” feel, then bask in your naive ideals. It blots and absorbs all those artery-clogging grease, well enough to make Mama proud.

The onion rings started the meal, laden with texture and batter, with 3 types of dip. Onion lovers will detest Bubba Gump’s version with its miniscule onion slices, but for the rest who couldn’t care less about onions, this one’s for you. The batter is lip-smacking tangy, folks would eat it on its own. With the oil, don’t forget. 

The ribs + chicken barbecue looked incredibly glossed up, readers would most likely hate me for for taking photos and not a bite. Well I did have a shred of chicken and let’s just say, the sauce does all the work.

The shrimp platter ( I have no idea what it’s called!) showcased 4 types of shrimp courses, 3 of which were terribly fried and 3 dip varieties, which the waiter meticulously tried to explain like a rambling chef. Unfortunately for him, Instagram was more interesting and had better sense, so in the end, I discarded the dips entirely. 

From what I recall, there was the heavily battered tempura which was blasting with so-so appeal especially without any sauce. Then there’s the coconut batter and what seemed to be the steamed variety, which should appeal for the local taste buds.

With everything fried, including the leviathan fries, this ought to be one of the rare times when a “normal” person would crave for something outrageous like a salad. Trust me.

Or there’s that strawberry lemonade with rum. That should do the trick.

Or you can do as I do, Run to the dessert place, Ruuuuuun!!!

Va Va Bene!

Situated on the second floor of a Petron gas station (EDSA cor. Pasay Road), Va Bene Italian Deli is far from the usual diesel delight that truck drivers fancy. If any, it’s all that fancy which makes it the pitstop for anyone who enjoys authentic Italian fares. Harboring an atmosphere that closely resembles an Italian joint—with oranges in plain sight, ciao Italia—Va Bene might as well serve dishes straight from the kitchens of Italy, with its handmade tagliatelle and gnocchi to freshly concocted pasta sauces.

Fresh pasta is indeed for sale, like the pappardelle, olive fettucine and cappellacci, among others—a glorious catch for those who dabble in kitchen wizardry but as for yours truly, the menu holds the greater value.

The menu selection is not that vast, but contains enough to create indecision as the order of the day: a toss among Ricotta Eggplant Tortellini, Potato Gnocchi with Gorgonzola Cheese Sauce, Arugula, & Wild Nuts and Organic Eggs Tagliolini with Portobello mushrooms, white wine cream sauce and truffle oil. The last item won, on account of the mushrooms and yes, partly because of the truffle oil.

Complimentary bruschetta with olive-tomato salsa was served—another feast for the hungry. Crisp and light, it was a great opener for a grandioso Italian lunch.

Organic Eggs Tagliolini

The Organic Eggs Tagliolini came with a gorgeous whiff of that truffle oil-mushroom combination that could compete with the aroma of espresso anytime. The truffle studded presentation came to a close when hunger finally struck us to reality. Forking through the tagliolini was quite the experience— the chewy and freshly made noodles provided a filling and comforting sensation that shattered any other craving.

The sauce was exuding with the flavors of mushrooms and truffle oil, an organic eggs high was certainly inescapable. The exuberant flavor coupled with the satiating pasta made for a bellissisima meal, I could not ask for more—except maybe another visit to have a try of that ricotta eggplant tortellini which I heard was va va va bene!

Dessert was not to be missed with this triple threat: Prosecco & Raspberries Parfait with White Chocolate Mousse, Homemade Profiteroles with Caramelized Walnuts, Vanilla Ice Cream, & Chocolate, and Mango Pannacotta.

Cinco Profiteroles

5 miniature profiteroles decorated the flanks of the plate, delectable and light. A charitable nature may concede to sharing but for the many, elude the generosity, quite understandably.

Mango Pannacotta

Sweet Mango chunks top the pannacotta which holds a pudding like viscosity that many may enjoy. Fans of its local counterpart the leche flan will love this cooked cream, but others may turn to the more solid desserts for that much anticipated crunch.

Prosecco and Raspberry Parfait

The Prosecco and Raspberries Parfait promised a white chocolate aspect, but the sweet section was drowned by the tartness of the raspberry layer, not to mention that generous drizzle of the prosecco. Fruit and wine dictated the overall flavor of the dish, coupled with the frozen punch that can relieve any warm day. A berry comfort for the forlorn with a bit of liquor to cap off a fantastic meal.

With this, Va Bene has become my next favorite Italian phrase, next to buon apetito! On warm days when a comforting meal is necessitated, Va Bene certainly pushes through with its gourmet Italian offerings. Tagliatelle, squid ink pasta and cannelloni—they’re all in attendance here. Magnifico!

I will never look at a gas station the same way again.

Ciao!

- J.Anne Gonzales

Green Dinner

With so many green jokes out there, the title does not pay tribute to any one of them.

Instead here comes a tongue twister to best accompany the statement: The Green dinner comes from dining on greens, not beans, at Greenbelt, a place that’s rather clean and certainly far from mean. Lucky are those blessed with knack for writing these tongue twisters, for I am not one of those. 

Ah well at least my school was green and I love edamame, so that ought to settle the score. Now back to dinner.

If I could get seconds on the cheese, why bother for a main dish?

First stop was Cafe Mary Grace that seems revere all that’s green and natural with its menu doused with herbs, pesto, salad and aglio olio, staring at the menu is a recommended activity for every customer. Failing to decide what to order for the first 10 minutes meant that the menu was just packed with likable fares – a rarity for me!

However sticking with the green theme, the order was Fried Kesong Puti with Calamansi Vinaigrette. The salad came in a jiffy, rather small yet the kesong puti squares were begging to be attacked. The vinaigrette was tinged with garlic, relieving us of that purely sour note. Best was the kesong puti square, lightly breaded, but very much the fancy of any cheese lover. 

Whoever named this dish must’ve been stoned during spelling class.

Next was Cafe Breton. Trying to avoid a sugar rush so late in the evening, I had to settle for more greens: Chix with Asparagus.

Why “chicken” is spelled as “chix” will be a spelling blunder I will never comprehend. It is neither cute nor proper for a restaurant that serves dishes with capers. However I am glad that the asparagus was not shortened to something hideous like “aspy” or “raguz”.

If that were the case, I’d be charged with arson – setting fire to a menu. Now where’s that Grand Marnier? Better make a spectacle out of this.

The Chix with Asparagus lives up to its image of impropriety, as it fails to get a proper “oooh” from me. The chicken strips were hard, the cream was bland, the onions were a tad too thin and the asparagus undercooked. The cheese dip turned out to be grated cheese on the top, which reminded me of childhood spaghetti.

All aspects turned to a “cheesy” misadventure, not even the crepe could salvage my distaste.

On the bright side, the menu was gone so you’ll be glad to know that no arson took place that evening.

The next time I see “CHIX” spelled anywhere though, hold on to your lighters.

Out for Brunch (@ Manila Polo Club)

Growing up, the term “Sunday brunch” was rarely uttered, our bourgeois household bearing the practice of separately enjoyed meals sans the wine toasting and thematic white garb. Plus, I am normally one hungry beast when I wake up, so brunch comes to near non existence in my voracious vocabulary.

The closest I have come to this posh Sunday Brunch matter, well aside from Chuck Bass and the rest of the Upper East Side, was during our Sunday feast at the Manila Polo Club. Veering away from the sensational seafood-fest that was the Mongolian Grill, we opted for the all-encompassing, multi-course selections from the International Buffet.

Spotting the Sushi, sashimi and Baked Salmon with the Caper-Dill sauce from afar, we had to abandon the call of the Mongolian buffet and opt for proper silverware, plates, soup bowls and hordes of protein.

The salad station wasn’t all that elaborate, should the likes of arugula, feta cheese or even caviar be expescted to make an entrance on the glass throne. However with Italian dressing, Romaine lettuce, the usual vegetable sidings, egg (pardon me, I’ve been fancying boiled egg these past few days) and cheese (just cheddar but that’ll do), it was quite enough to fill my plate to shameful heights that I wanted to hide from the prim old lady by my side. But she didn’t seem to care, since all she wanted was the seafood salad.

As for that seafood salad, do not get me started. Again it was no Poseidon serving, but somehow the light lemon-herb oil that graced the squid-shrimp-fish-olive salad was refreshingly satiating, it called for seconds! And seconds I shamelessly had.

While the dishes were not overwhelmingly abundant in quantity, they were luxuriously presented and named, looking them brought enough stars in my eyes. The Baked Salmon occupied the main spotlight area, which was such a welcome sight compared to the cliché roast beef. Pasta was available in Marinara (with shrimps) and carbonara sauces, and proved to be the “carby” competition for that Seafood Paella. Lavish names like Fish Fillet Veronique and Pork Schnitzel introduced funky new food terms that I can put to good use, if any, to spice up the dreariness of everyday dishes.

Seafood was also made available for grilling, but we never got to that point. Stuck on the salad and seafood already served and aptly named, we found no need to indulge in those smoky treats.

Being the mammoth dessert eater, I nearly gave up on the sweet treats, but alas, I could not yield at the sight of the cakes and fruits. And they had bread pudding with chocolate sauce!

The shot glass serving cakes were all right, a bit exposed to the poolside heat so the fruit selection provided the chilling finale to my meal. With orange and mango slices atop that fabulous headdress inspired display, it was a delightful meal, capped off by a tropical fruit fest.

Very Sunday Brunch, if I may say so.

So this brunch thing isn’t too bad, not all that fancy and no dress code necessary.  This is probably one of those rare moments when I can’t help but end with:

XOXO, Lazy Black Cat

Classic Confections

There’s a generic ring to the name Classic Confections, which is why the Greenbelt 5 shop is oftentimes ignored, missed or simply forgotten, especially in a sea of fascinating branding like John and Yoko, Fely J’s, Krazy Garlik and even Pepper Steak.

“I want cake,” says my dessert hungry friend.

“There’s one in Greenbelt 5, a cake place.” I answer in glee.

“Really? Like that travel restaurant?”" she asks in uncertainty.

“No. It’s a cake place that starts with C, if that helps. Let’s just find it!”

Classic Confections is smacked in between the exciting culinary delights that Greenbelt 5 has to offer, and in its immaculately white interiors and child-safe door, it can be rather uninviting to the hungry folk. However, pressed with time and fearing the Starbucks line, it was Classic Confections or gelato.

If planning on a cake-cookie spree, then you’ve come to the right place. Each mini rounded slice is priced at least P200, except for Meline’s Chocolate Cake at P175. Each slice is perfectly presented and screams with sweet surprise. Torn between Chocolate Cake and Cheesecake, I went for the former simply because I could not pass up that rich of a chocolate icing.

Meline’s Chocolate Cake

Exemplifying the Chocolate cake cliché, I admit guilt to surrendering to this hoi polloi creation instead of pursuing the stranger kinds such as the Cheesecake Obsession or mousse. The big mound of chocolate was too tempting to give up, and once sliced it was a decision never to regret. Moist and rich but satisfying sweet, the cake was fantastic. If left alone, I could (and would) finish a slice in one sitting, licking my spoon in glee with no hint of regret or calorie counting.

Lemon Torte

While I refused to taste this lemony fellow for fear of getting creamed up right before bedtime (plus, it has cashews), I could see that those who sampled this delicacy were in pure ecstasy. Normally people intersperse gossip with chewing but the Lemon Torte was near extinction even before the real story swapping began. Amazing. But yes, too sweet as drinks were downed rather in haste as well. Now that’s one Happy Lemon.

Andale, Baja Mexican Cantina

In preparation for my much awaited escapade at Baja Mexican Cantina (Greenbelt 3), not only did I brush up on my rusty Spanish, I also summoned my faux Latin roots (having once believed we were related to Speedy Gonzalez) and managed to perfect pronouncing quesadilla with the ethnic twang, “It’s que-sa-di-ya, entiendes?“

Just this night, I was the Perezosa Negra Gata (Lazy Black Cat in Spanish) who was and still, mucha hambre!

The excitement died down, even before I could bring out my bolero, as the place became a Baja Siesta Fest.

Service was rather slow, as if exemplifying the siesta time. This lazy pace at 7 in the evening though made me consider blaming the time zone difference but then realized that perhaps their “Tia Maria” cook was still tossing the dough for the burritos. If I could only scream, “Andale, andale!” like my ancestor Speedy, then maybe things would’ve gone better. But since this is Manila, I wouldn’t want spit on my salsa.

The food came in long and irregular gaps, which in turn gave my companions their gossip break, and as for me, space out time.

Frozen Iced Tea

Cheese Quesadilla

Cheese Quesadilla

Slap in the right amount of cheese in between flour tortillas, grill and voila! Nothing could go wrong with this Mexican appetizer. Baja’s sauce on the side provided the much-needed flavor and spice. However we found the wrapper a tad too thick, thus engulfing most of the cheese. There’s a reason it’s called Cheese Quesadilla and not Quesadilla con Queso.

Nachos Supremo

Nachos Supremo

With gigantic balls of whipped cream, salsa and cheese, this one’s the appetizer champ. The toppings are finely placed and additional orders of salsa, cheese or guacamole are available at less than P50 per topping. The only fare that has been met with appreciative nods and lip-smacking praise, I believe should I return to Baja, it will be solely for this nacho fiesta.

California Burrito

California Burrito

A beef-filled entree, I watched as slivers of French Fries erupted from the sliced Americanized burrito. The ground beef was everywhere, too tedious for me to pick, and so I left this fare to the meat-eaters. They ate in the Mexican fashion, slow-paced but not engaged in the meal. It seems that the Hamburger-cum-Burrito was not welcomed by their discriminating taste, or perhaps the hybrid attempt simply did not satisfy either genre.

Fish Fillet Vera Cruz

Fish Fillet Vera Cruz

This fish went from “fresh catch” to “gone in 60 seconds”. The fish was fresh and if it helps, so white, I just couldn’t stop shoving pieces in my mouth. The batter was also mildly Mexican, not overwhelming or irritatingly greasy. Whoever  Vera Cruz is, well here’s our message to you: Muchas Gracias, Senora! Unless it’s Tio?

Wet Burrito (with Chicken)

Wet Burrito (with Chicken)

The rice was placed on the side (as requested) and inside, it was 90% beans and 10% chicken (and chicken skin). The chicken was literally bathed in purple, and for a minute I thought I was eating dinuguan and ube (both of which I do NOT eat) in one mighty wrap, devoid of vegetables. If I could rename it, it would be the Fat-Wrap Bean Burrito. In grade school science class, we learned about the 3 Gs of Nutrition: Go (carbs), Grow (protein) and Glow (vegetables). Simply put, this burrito’s so wet, it’s lost all its glow.

With other more enticing and conveniently located Mexican joints in Manila, it’s “Adios!” to Baja Mexican Cantina in the meantime. Should you decide to have a fish taco-nacho buffet in the future though, count me in!

Aum Sweet Aum at New Bombay

Because I hate waiting in lines when I’m hungry, I’ve found the quick fix for this: Indian food (New Bombay, Glorietta). Filipinos have a knack for displaying patience especially when queueing for buffets and oily food joints, thus leaving exotic restaurants bare and welcoming to the impatient wanderer such as myself! Aside from 2 other guests, New Bombay was ours to enjoy with ample space to stretch our legs and even request for warm water. Thank Shiva!

Of course space isn’t the only draw for New Bombay. While the restaurant raised prices (and reduced serving size) since my last visit, the menu is filled with amazing Indian delicacies and entrees fit for vegetarians and those I’m-trying-not-to-eat-meat-this-Christmas-season dieters. Don’t expect waitresses to force their beef specialties or Chef’s-pork-dish-of-the-day on you – nope, just healthy eating at its curriest.

Palak Paneer

Palak Paneer (P225)

Our staple order may not be the prettiest sight, but the homemade cottage cheese in spicy spinach sauce was so good and comforting, it warranted seconds. The spicy creamy spinach sauce was really flavorsome, and if I could just cook this at home, I sure am eating this everyday. Oh wait, did I just say cook? Oh well, at least New Bombay has branches at The Columns and Podium. That should address the cooking deficiency.

Chicken Tikka Masala

Chicken Tikka Masala (P225)

Chicken in tomato-masala sauce makes the best partner to palak paneer, not to mention that they unintentionally scream Merry Christmas on our table. Together though, they do make this unbeatable spicy duo when spread on naan. Better than just plain curry or tandoori, the chicken tikka masala is bathed in this amazing red sauce that makes other saucy dishes blush in bland shame.

Cottage Cheese Pakora

Cottage Cheese Pakora (P165)

These cottage cheese cubes fried in this yellow batter are filling and tasty, but a bit of a letdown for their price. It was a redundant order as well, having selected the palak paneer as a main dish. For those who like fried cheese though, this should make the cut. Next time though, I might consider the samosas or vegetable cutlets.

(L) Naan, (R) Masala Kulcha

Garlic Naan (P75) and Masala Kulcha (P145)

Perfectly baked naan can either make or break the meal. Good thing New Bombay is already an expert at this and managed to serve them chewy and right. The Masala Kulcha is like the high-end cousin of the naan, more grand and stuffed with mashed potatoes and onions. For almost twice the price of the naan though, I’d rather go for economy, since all that masala flavor dissipated once the palak paneer’s spinach sauce splashed all over the kulcha.

Lunch is served!

With my plate containing a hodge podge of colors and spice levels, it was impossible not to enjoy this commotion. A mega masala meal can really knock off all that holiday stress and bring us closer to a mundane sense of nirvana – which ultimately disappeared once we faced the Makati traffic.

Doesn’t matter, at least even for a few minutes, we got a sense of “Aum” even away from home.

Namaste!