Jarrell A.
Google
The fix for the homesick.
When I was in the Philippines, I would never order Pinakbet at a restaurant. That kind of dish is best made by a mother, lola or tita with decades of experience in balancing each component. The vegetables must squeak, the kalabasa must be firmly mushy to bring out its natural sweetness, the bittermelon must not be masked and the eggplant must be in its right form, all under a light broth that blends all the flavors and yet does not even overpower the humble white rice.
The fact that this restaurant achieved this tells me of the skills of the chefs and the guidance that they learned from. And I feel that the message that they serve on the plate is pride in what their parents made for them along with their experiences of living in The Philippines.
This is the sisig I have not had in years in the style that I miss. In The Philippines, nearly everyone has switched over from using the maskara of the pig to the much easier to wield pork belly. Their sisig dish is perfectly seasoned and spiced and uses both the belly but more of the ears and possibly the jowl, crisped by cracklings and by the sizzling plate it is served on, with an aroma that reminds me both of the bars and the karenderya. THIS is Sisig in its finest yet forgotten form. Eat this with rice or a beer with ice.
Their Tapa is sauceless, again achieving a taste of tradition as most of the country has moved towards tapa with a heap of sweet sauce, this stays true to how my uncles and father made theirs. Marinated in vinegar and garlic but remaining firm and in no rush to achieve an overly soft texture. Goes perfect with their chili garlic oil. I had several spoonfuls of that.
The humble Bangus, again showing the skills of the kitchen. Crispy skin yet moist flesh and the head became almost like the perfect seafood cracker. Not a single bone and only the tail remained. And sneakily, I don’t know how but they managed to coat their fish with something in the flour that reminds me of KFC? It blew my mind when I realized that out of the 13 secret spices, the picked the right combination to use on their fish to bring a slight flavor of the colonels chicken to, bangusilog. and it worked magnificently.
The filipino palate is tricky to serve in the USA, making a restaurant following those guidelines must be a challenge and they face that by staying rooted in tradition with knowledge passed on, forged finer by modern learnings.
I have dined here 3 times and each dish was cooked to PERFECTION. I will eat the entire menu someday and I hope that they will never close.
But tonight, I felt a sick I have not ever felt. By the middle of my work shift, it was settling in but I didn’t know what it was. I skipped my hastily prepared lunch and went home hungry, again. I stared at the interior of the fridge, starving but not craving anything inside of it. Mostly filled with american food, fast to cook, easy to make. Great for people on the go, for 30 minute lunch breaks. I shuffled to my bed with my head hanging, settling on sleeping on a growling stomach. And I realized that what I was missing, am missing most days, is food cooked with soul and love. I was missing my mother and what she used to make. My mom rarely made pinakbet and it was often ignored, but I didn’t want americas glorious meat or san diegos flair, I wanted a reminder of where I came from just a year ago. I wanted something cooked cleanly, healthy, something light and lively.
I ordered Pinakbet to be delivered to my apartment from Villa Manila. Still hot, I took a everything on a spoon with rice and before I finished the first bite, I took a spoonful of the second as my wife, who just woke up, watched me on the video call. I didn’t mean to eat the whole dish by myself, But I emptied it. And I feel happy knowing that a taste of where I came from exists in this new city that I’m in.
I’m settled. That was a wonderful meal that didn’t feel like a heavy lump.