Some Jesuits in the Philippines

I recall Fr. Meany who was my other Education teacher in grad school. To prove that he practiced the vow of poverty, through his polo barong we’d see an undershirt ridden with a few holes. Another memory: Our class under him was after lunch, a rather sleepy time. One afternoon, he was telling a story when he suddenly clapped loudly. He smiled when he saw me looking startled, as though he’d awakened me.

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Also had Fr. Bernad in college. He was my teacher in Spanish 4, Rizal’s works. But luckily for us, he taught the course in English. Or was that unfortunate for us? A very learned man, just the same.

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Fr. O’Shaughnessy was our teacher in Theo. He was a tall man with white hair. His shoulders were hunched, leading one classmate to describe him as a “walking hanger”. He was brilliant.

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Though I never had Fr. Joe Cruz for a teacher, he never forgot my name and always made me feel special by that mere fact. Supposedly one of the greatest Filipino Jesuit minds. He was a descendant of Jose Rizal. Though he was a big man, whenever we spoke he really listened as though he had all the time in the world to do so.

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Fr. Reuter. We were introduced once and he was very cordial but that encounter was too brief for him to have remembered us. Just the same, when once we met him again, we approached him. As soon as he saw us, he walked with great pain toward our direction. He had a cane by then and had difficulty walking. A man with a very good and big heart. He walks the talk. He’s not just good or doesn’t just appear good in his writings or on TV. In real life, he has a lot of compassion for everyone. He writes very simply but strikingly. IN his “At 3 a.m. column” in the Philippine Star last week, for example he wrote:

Once upon a time, long long ago, when I was a young Jesuit, studying Greek in the Juniorate, I had a professor, who was probably the best teacher I ever had. He said to us, once, “The most beautiful thing that you will ever have is what you have right now.” And that is true.

He wrote a book called: Realization. His message in the book, was: reality itself is breathlessly beautiful.

His conclusion was: the first virtue is facing reality. And by “first” he meant that – if you don’t have this virtue- you will not have any other virtues. And the first vice is the flight from reality, the escape from reality. After that, you develop all the other vices.

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Known for his brilliance, he is also very kind and solicitous. He cares, he listens. That’s Fr. Catalino Arevalo, SJ.

“Robots” on the phone

I detest it when I’m in a foul mood and call shops that have either answering machines or humanoids (humans talking like robots, per my definition, though more accurately, androids like in the picture, from http://images.google.com.ph/imgres?imgurl=http://techepics.com/files/repliee.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.techeblog.com/index.php/tech-gadget/repliee-q1expo-female-android&h=210&w=390&sz=37&hl=tl&start=27&tbnid=dxYCt3_K-c3wpM:&tbnh=66&tbnw=123&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dandroid%2B%2Banswering%2Bthe%2Bphone%26start%3D20%26gbv%3D2%26ndsp%3D20%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Dtl%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26channel%3Ds%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26sa%3DN) taking my calls. You can’t get in a word edgewise. All you have to do is lamely say yes.

Example: I dial 7378000. Voice answers: Magandang umaga po. Ito po si Gia. Eto ba si ” she mentions my name” ng “she mentions my address” and then without breathing proceeds to ask “pareho pa rin ba ang o-orderin niyo, yung 11.5 kg na de salpak?” I lamely say “yes” and then she resumes her script again “Paki-expect na lang within the day. maraming salamat po.”

Example: I dial 8-mcdo. I start ordering and am interrupted, “phone number please.” After I give it the voice on the other end rattles off my name, address, landmarks i’d given before, and then asks, “Black pa rin ba yong gate?” When I say yes, she then proceeds to ask, “May I take your orders now?”

Same with Shakey’s, Jollibee, etc.

what peeves me, especially when I’m in a hurry or using my cell phone, is that they take so long. I get so stressed that my orders will arrive when the guests I ordered for will have left, or my call cost will be so much.

Oh for the old times when real people answered the phone. Even a priest acquaintance said as much when after he called the school to which he is attached an answering machine answered giving him choices and the final choice, “or stay on the line for assistance”. Then he had to wait for an eternity for a human voice. Sometimes that didn’t materialize and all that did was a busy tone.

Chicken Sandwiches

Before pork sate with java rice, my first memory of Roli’s in Bacolod was their chicken sandwich. Time was when we’d go to my father’s gasoline station weekends to help out and get paid with a chicken sandwich. Really yummy. Sometimes I’d ask for plain rather than toasted bread, but always without the vegetables. Roli’s set the standard for chicken sandwich for me and I don’t think it will ever be dislodged. It is way up there in the totem pole of chicken sandwiches. The reason I’ve switched to burgers lately is the fact that there’s no Roli’s in Manila. If there were, I wouldn’t bother about burgers. So what approximates Roli’s chicken sandwich here in the metropolis?

I guess Cibo’s. It’s served on soft white bread but without potato chips. There’s alfalfa sprouts on the side though, which I know is healthier, but couldn’t they add potato chips as well? So when my husband orders tuna sandwich, I always look longingly at the chips that go with his sandwich. Of course he shares them but they aren’t really mine so… I cannot take too much.

Jollibee used to have chicken sandwich but just as I began to like it, it disappeared from the menu. I liked Bon Appetit’s version too which came with asparagus. Yummy. But before long, it wasn’t only the chicken sandwich that disappeared but Bon Appetit itself. Sad.

A few weeks ago, I read that Milky Way has good chicken sandwich with asparagus just like old times, the author said. So I bought that and wow, it cost only P75 per and came in a soft plastic box. It was good though the slivers of chicken were too few. When I next ordered it and saved it for eating at home, I realized that what they gave me was chicken salad sandwich. So instead of asparagus, what it contained was egg and tomato. Not bad.

McDo has its version of chicken sandwich but while it is good, the chicken is breaded and fried so it’s less healthy (as if I eat healthy), but even more crucial, it leaves one feeling too stuffed. Burgoo has chicken sandwich, too, served with potato wedges or fries, whichever one wishes. Not bad, but not Roli’s either.

Le Coeur (is the spelling wrong) has chicken sandwich but wow, how spare the chicken they spread on the bread. Imagine dabbing foundation lightly on your face. It’s barely there.

Just this noon I ordered chicken sandwich from Teriyaki Boy. How generous. The bread (white) was huge and the chicken thickly sliced. It came with mayo mustard and lettuce. The bread became a bit soggy and the mayo could hardly be tasted, I guess because it was watery? Anyway, that problem was quickly solved by mayo from a bottle in the fridge. Japanese mayo would have been good too. The catch. It comes with chips. yehey, I thought and happily saved it for my son. When he took a bite, his face assumed a “yuck” look. It was wasabi chips. Remember Circles in Makati Shang? So be warned. One bite and the chips were ignored. Don’t know yet if the husband will bother with it…

Myron’s, Abe, Figaro

 

Recently, had dinner at Myron’s  which is at the concourse level of Power Plant. Months back, when it had just opened, we tried it out but weren’t impressed. And it seemed so expensive then. But I was hankering for steak last Friday and we were in Power Plant, so to Myron’s we went. Their servings were huge: husband ordered baby back ribs which took up half of the plate. It was served with rice and vegetables. My son ordered a chicken sandwich which he specified should be served with the vegetables outside the sandwich. Tried those vegetables which were essentially mushrooms, onions, etc. and they were good. I ordered the smallest “Paolo’s favorite” which was rib eye steak. As recommended by the waiter I ordered it medium rare with baked potatoes and vegetbales. The baked potato (yes just one piece) had a sour cream topping and a few minced bits of bacon so it wasn’t too tasty. But the steak was oh sooooo gooood. It was a truly satisfying dinner and didn’t come out too expensive after all. we’ll certainly be back.

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To celebrate a college classmate’s turning golden, 5 of us from the batch went out to dinner. The birthday celebrator (Kris Aquino says, according to Ricky Lo, that there’s no such word as celebrant. So be it) chose the restaurant and ordered the food. The non-celebrants paid. The restaurant he chose was ABE in Serendra. Though I reserved a table at around 4 pm, we were warned and correctly, we were 14th in the waiting list. When I told the celebrator he said, let’s just go and if we can’t wait, there are so many other choices in Serendra. I concurred.

My husband and I arrived a few minutes before the designated time and when we checked, we were still number 14. A few minutes later, the other couple came. They checked, we were number 12. Fashionably late, the celebrator arrived 30 minutes after we did (parking difficulty explained his tardiness) and by then we were number 6 and were given menus to look over. An hour later we were seated. The place was forever jampacked and the noise level was terrible. Because I normally speak softly I had to strain my vocal cords to be heard by my companions across the table and I had to ask them to repeat what they were saying, more often than not, so I could hear. Conversation wise, it was horrible. Plates clanged, the tinkling of broken glass or porcelain interrupted the noise, voices were competing against each other, etc. I guess that it was difficult to talk made me look around and see a few of the odd, maybe charming, features of the place. On what might be called a tiny mezzanine was an upright piano tightly situated in a small corner held abay by a glass panel. I could not imagine how anyone could get to that piano without stooping. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could get to that piano even, as I didn’t see a door leading to it. Decor? One of our companions asked. I don’t really know. But there was no activity there.

Just below where the piano was, my husband said, was a passageway leading to the water closet. A sign said something to the effect that the vertical clearance was 5′10″ (and you’d think one could see vertical clearances indicated for vehicles only along roads or in parking spaces). My husband went to the toilet and he naughtily stood upright and half of his forehead hit the beam. When he came back to the table he said, “It’s not 5′10″. Someone in our table said, “You’re wearing shoes.” They apparently maximized the use of the space and sacrificed a few height conveniences. I said “what if Michael Jordan came?” Or heavens, Yao Ming? They’d have to crawl. Or eat al fresco.

Now to the food served.

I overheard the celebrator order baby squid but this wasn’t available. He ordered another squid dish which when it came was pristine white with red chili flakes. Yummy appetizer. Then he also ordered adobong kambing which came with lots of garlic with their peel attached. The meat was tender and flavorful. It didn’t look too visually appealing to me, though, as it was soy sauce dark. I liked the kare-kare which had a lot of meat (and fat). The sauce was tasty even without the bagoong. There was pinakbet which looked clean (clear sauce, in other words) but I saw the sliced okra which deterred me as I once heard Vic and Joey of Eat Bulaga say it was a slimy vegetable, so I didn’t touch that. Also came with bagoong. And there was bangus belly sa bayabas. No bayabas leaves there, but ripe bayabas. The broth was thick and sweetish the way ripe guavas taste. (Reminded me of my childhood when we’d swim in our concrete pool and have bayabas hurled our way. we’d eat them soaking wet.) the bangus fillets were generously sliced and deboned. That dish was okay though I couldn’t eat the entire serving allotted to me as this wasn’t served first and I was a bit full by then. I found the manner by which they served the rice quaint. A lady with a bushel-shaped basket lined with foil spooned freshly cooked rice onto our plates. Bottomless rice, the celebrator said.

One of our companions noted that all the waitresses were slim, pretty and had long hair tied in a pony tail. They looked very neat in their black skirts and white long-sleeved blouses. And they were pleasant. Anyway, it was a relief to the eardrums to leave the place. A long table which was filled with people had a set of new guests, just as many as the previous occupants.

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After ABE, we walked/wheeled to the next block of establishments in Serendra. The celebrator said, “Figaro” and so we went. I don’t know whose bright idea it was to eat al fresco but it was a bad decision, at least for me and my husband. Thought it was night time, it was humid and hot. And the occupants of the table next to us were smoking to death. My nose began to itch and I felt a cough coming (it didn’t). My other companion, who’s a lot healthier because she eats vegetables, coughed. But we still didn’t transfer to the air conditioned section. It wasn’t fresh air we were breathing outside either, yet we suffered it. Figaro is ok, their food for the goods and sans rival too, which comes with a fancy name. I didn’t eat the blueberry cheesecake though, as I know one of our companions wanted it badly. We were sharing all the desserts otherwise. AFter he took a bite of the cheesecake, he said, “DOME has the best”, so I guess I didn’t miss much. While all the rest had coffee in different styles, I stuck to water. I only take coffee in ice cream and candy forms.

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An addendum to ABE. While I raved that the food was good because each tasted differently from the other (there are some restaurants where all the food the serve resemble each other), my husband said “yes they’re ok but I couldn’t see what i was eating.” He was acutally complaining. No, the place wasn’t dark but the sauces smothered the meat and vegetables, except for the squid and the pinakbet. It then occurred to me that, I guess, that’s FIlipino style. Because we are a poor country, our native dishes are heavily “sauced” so that those who want to have filling meals can just use the sauce to add flavor to the rice and still have a satisfying meal if there is not enough meat or vegetables to have with the rice. 

Fu Restaurant and then some

Last night, we went to Serendra for dinner. Months back, we received a faxed message on Fu cuisine. There were questions and answers in that faxed info whom someone must have asked for, but which was mistakenly sent to me. Since then I have been curious, plus the fact that it’s owned by batchmates whom I know but who don’t necessarily know me. Plus the fact too that I have read favorable reviews on it. Anyway…

Prior to entering the restaurant, we looked at the menu to check if it had reasonably priced entrees. Yes, the prices weren’t bad. Would the food be good, we wondered. Then a quick look through the glass walls revealed former Solicitor General Estelito Mendoza and family. That it had a VIP for a customer meant, or so I thought, it must serve good food.

We asked the lady who waited on us for recommendations. Finally we ordered the following: roast suckling pig, 3 ways; one bowl of Fu fried rice, one bowl of yang chow fried rice; pan-fried radish cake, fish in barbecue sauce and ha kao. Now let me explain.

Roast suckling pig three ways means an appetizer plate with 3 different kinds of cold cuts. One of course was the roast suckling pig, the second was pork asado and the third was a choice between white or soy chicken. We chose the former. The plate was served with ginger sauce and hoisin. Having both roast suckling pig and asado seems redundant as both are pork dishes, but as they’re cooked differently, having them both was fine. Dipping them in hoisin improved their taste even more. I tried the ginger sauce on the chicken and it was all right. But I chose to dip even the chicken in hoisin after trying it on ginger.

The rice: I had the Fu fried rice. This came with Peking duck meat. Hardly noticeable but as all good Chinese fried rice go, Fu’s had that distinct Chinese fried rice flavor and aroma. Very good.

Ha Kao was great. It wasn’t too floury. I’ve tasted some versions that leave me disappointed. This one didn’t.

The pan fried radish cake I liked a lot. When I asked for sauce to go with it, they gave me sweet chili sauce. When I tried them together, they just didn’t jibe. So I used hoisin on the radish cake as well.

The fish seemed to lack flavor. It was served with young corn and slivers of carrots and, maybe, turnips. Nothing special, not at all exciting.

And as our bill reached the minimum P1000 and we paid using a Citibank credit card,
we were entitled to free dessert. Two free desserts, in fact. One was a set of 3 snow balls, the other a refreshing mix of mango juice and melon shavings with crushed ice. Re the snowballs, they’re made of sticky rice. They were in orange (carrot-flavored), green (pandan) and violet (ube) and were rolled in dessicated coconut and something powdery — like the thing espasol is rolled in as well. Ground toasted rice, maybe? The snowballs tasted like palitaw or in Ilonggo, inday-inday. They had a cube of mango inside in varying degrees of sourness/sweetness (half full-half empty thing). Ingenious. On a lazy day, I might yet try making a clone.

Overall, Fu was a happy experience except for the noisy children and the clatter of porcelain made by the waiters/waitresses. That’s to be expected in Chinese restaurants, a relative once told me.

As for Estelito Mendoza, his family members (wife and 3 or four children, all young adults) were well-behaved, not at all obnoxious. I was impressed with all of them, Estelito included. But not for long where he was concerned.

They left Fu before we did, but when we went to A Different Bookstore, they were there too. The branch of ADB in Serendra is a bit cramped so that I couldn’t move to the back because he was on his way to the cashier. One way traffic situation? Not exactly, but more of a one car at a time thing. He refused to budge so we could move forward, making it necessary for us to move so he could pass. Not very gentlemanly of him. Maybe because he is who he is? Sad.

TV Commercials (1)

A few days ago, my husband was amused by the Bacchus commercial. I wasn’t paying close attention then but I caught the last word uttered by the old lady, she said, “hello” in a most cool way, think sarcastic.

A few minutes ago, the said commercial was shown and so I watched. It started with a married couple (oops, a couple. Why did I say married, I guess because they seemed to live in the same house) holding a can of the Bacchus drink each. They appeared to be in a rush while the Lola, hair in a tight bun, was watching TV up close, as in really close. Her chair was barely a foot away from the TV set. She was watching a quiz show.

The emcee was asking a question, voice over was rather unclear, then the screen focused on the contestant who was at a loss for the answer. The Lola watching TV stood up and said, “Eratosthenes, hello.” Cute. Cool lola.

Bacchus – this drink caught my attention when I chanced upon a project of my son in English class where they were supposed to criticize a print ad. He took issue over the fact that the drink is an energy drink when in fact Bacchus is known as a Roman god of wine and intoxication. Good insight, I thought, and that elicited praise from the teacher. So why did the makers of Bacchus name it such? Possibly, it’s because Bacchus is also known to represent “not only the intoxicating power of wine, but also its social and beneficial influences.”

Above are pictures of the drink and the Roman god after whom it was named.

Celebrities Up Close

Living in Manila offers close encounters with celebrities/hallowed people. One of those I met a year or so ago was National Artist Napoleon Abueva (see image).

It was the first mass of a friend’s newly-ordained priest-son in our parish and she invited my family to the affair which was followed by a reception. When she led us to the table she had reserved for us, I balked. In fact, when I saw a table close by, I asked if we could just stay there where mere mortals like ourselves werejavascript:void(0)
Publish Post stationed, but she insisted and so it was. Also in the illustrious table was Fr. Catalino Arevalo, Mr. Abueva’s wife, a lady well known in the parish. My family and I were the ordinary mortals.

Napoleon Abueva is a nice old man. He spoke about his works, how he procured materials for them, etc. without being boastful. And to show how down-to-earth he was, before we parted ways, he mentioned our family name, a clear indication that he was listening when we were being introduced. Though I’m sure that by now he has since forgotten us, I won’t take that against him. It was enough for us to have been treated the way we were in the table where he was. His wife was as simple, no airs, nothing.

Fr. Arevalo had a lot of stories to share too. And after that particular evening, we had some other encounters with him. For the wake of a good friend James, we offered to pick him up. The drive to Makati was long so we had a chance to converse. He answered my questions and didn’t seem impatient doing so. Oh, and before that, we also picked him up to say mass at a house in the area but that was too brief an encounter. Another time, after he said mass, I liked his homily and sent him a text message for the complete list of his enumerations. He sent the list via text very quickly. I was so thrilled because he’s known as one of the great Jesuit minds in the Philippines and served as an adviser to Pope John Paul II years back.

Then there’s Chito Tagle. Okay, Bishop Chito Tagle (see photo). He was our teacher in college and back then, he had just graduated from college himself. Later, we learned he had become a priest and as he was a good Philosophy teacher, we chose to attend one of his talks when a friend invited us. After the talk, we sought him out and introduced ourselves. His immediate reaction “oh you’re the one from the province.” Did that offend me? Not at all. Maybe it was the perpetual lilt in my voice? How I moved? How I acted — that made him know even then that I was from the province. Who cares? People from the province are not to be looked down upon in the first place. Their roots just set them apart because they have a certain graciousness, right? a certain simplicity, right? Haha.

Anyway, fast forward to a few years later. He was appointed bishop of Cavite. I wrote him a congratulatory letter and though he didn’t respond to it, weeks later, we received an invitation to his installation (the invitation was his response, I guess) complete with a parking ticket. So we went all the way to Cavite and when after the ceremony was over we lined up to kiss his ring and he saw us, he said my name — he hadn’t forgotten.

Years later, we saw him in a church nearby. He deliberately went to us to say hello. Another great Filipino mind and he knows us.

Now the female celebrities.

Years back, when I was in a mall, a plastic bag fell off my lap to the floor. Right in front of me was COD, preening herself in front of a glass panel in a computer shop. Like her, I was waiting for my son who was engrossed in Counter Strike. She looked at me, at the package, and moved away. A good Samaritan she wasn’t. COD is a broadcaster.

Another broadcaster like her is more solicitous. Last year, we were at a venue which did not have air-conditioning. She asked where I would position myself, turned on the fan and directed it to me. Her initials, TMP. 

Still another broadcaster I met, but more recently was CFR. I needed to get something from her for a tribute to a good friend, but she offered to bring it to the house. No celebrity airs there and once before a play, it was she who called out to me to say hello. She even knew my name.

Tessa Prieto-Valdez. Now this girl/lady seems to be having a lot of fun and shows it. Her outfits are deliciously outrageous, so with her make-up. She wears false eyelashes up to there (very long and curled), carries a dog to the mall and loves the attention. Once she saw me looking at her in a mall and she smiled warmly. I couldn’t help myself. She was right there and who wouldn’t look at her?

Many years back, saw Imelda Cojuangco in church and she said “hello.” SO did Tingting Cojuangco, also in church.

Not so Miriam Santiago. Though when I wrote her years back, praising what she was doing in the Bureau of Immigration, she promptly answered my letter, in person she isn’t too friendly. Maybe she is shy? Oh and one should see her in church. She always has this red bag and matching shoes and her two adopted daughters look like docile —s, following her around as she goes to the front row even after the mass has started. Is she the reason why the church now has ushers who bar anyone from going inside when the mass has begun?

Also wrote Roilo Golez when he did a superb job as Post-master General and he answered my letter. So did Randy David when I emailed him a letter, relating how much he impressed my son who said he ought to run for President of the Philippines. And Angelo Reyes. Yes, he answered my letter. You see, back in college, we had a teacher in Economics, a Colonel Reyes. He had this military air about him, unsmiling, fast-talking, always prepared for class. So that when once I heard a General Reyes speaking on TV for the first time, the voice reverberated. I recognized the voice and when I looked up from what I was reading, I saw my teacher. But I had to be sure and so I wrote him. And he answered my letter to say that yes, it was he.

Bernadette Sembrano, Alex Compton, Richard Gomez, they smile. Alex even said hello.

La Mesa Grill

A few weeks back, a friend brought Crispchon to the house which she got from La Mesa Grill in Trinoma, North Edsa. Although the lechon skin was no longer too crispy, it was good enough for me to want more. The downside of that take-out was that the restaurant gave too few pandan-flavored(colored?) wraps, but it gave several different dips, cucumber, leeks and kutchay leaves. And the lechon was sliced to bite-sized pieces.

Last night, wanting to have more of the treat, my husband and I proceeded to Trinoma. By then it was almost 9 pm, but we were determined.

La Mesa Grill can be reached from the first floor parking lot via an escalator. From the second floor parking lot, it can be accessed by going through the mall’s corridors, a bit of a long travel, and then going out to the open air where there are several restaurants to choose from: Bacolod Chicken Inasal, Super Bowl and a few others.

La Mesa Grill offers two options in terms of dining locations: outdoors or indoors. It is reminiscent of Barrio Fiesta or any other Filipino-themed restaurant in that it isn’t pretentious in terms of decor. The walls are lined with continuous benches with backs, facing individual, uncushioned chairs. The ceilings have bamboo-like light fixtures suspended from beams. If one isn’t too particular about five-star surroundings, it’s okay. It’s clean and the service is good.

As there were just the two of us, my husband and I ordered the 1/6 portion of the crispchon, crispy catfish salad, bangus belly in a sweetish sauce and seafood rice. Everything tasted very good and the portions were sufficient. We could have done away with the bangus belly as the crispchon, catfish salad and rice were more than enough.

Our waiter decided on the sauces for our crispchon and we’re glad we relied on him for the choices: garlic (possibly garlic in yogurt or sour cream), hoisin (like the ones served with Peking duck two ways in Chinese restaurants) and liver (like for ordinary lechons).

As the waiter prepared our crispchon himself, everyone turned to look. The slab of pork was laid on a wooden board, the skin sliced off with some meat before being sliced further into smaller pieces. He then rolled the wraps around the slices accompanied with cucumber and leeks. We told him not to bother about the kutchay. As he didn’t really extract all the pork from the bones, we had take-home leftover lechon which we’ll be having for lunch later, complete with the sauces. I don’t think he sent wraps though, a pity.

All in all, the waiter rolled 10 to 12 crispchon wraps and they were more than enough for my husband and me but we finished them. The dish could have been shared by three people, actually. And note that when you order crispchon, you’re asked what part of the lechon you prefer. I think we ordered the head part because that’s what came with a lot of skin per our waiter. the other choices were the belly and I forgot what. These ones would have more meat. As I mentioned earlier, the waiters are very cordial, especially the one who wrapped our crispchon. His name was Brian and he’s a provincemate. He hails from La Carlota and has waited on tables in various restaurants: Gerry’s Grill or Dencio’s, Bacolod CHicken Inasal and now, La Mesa Grill. what an odd coincidence – they’re all Filipino-themed. I asked if he also cooked but he sadly said he didn’t. A pity really in that many chefs started out as food servers. I encouraged him to observe the cooks and he also thought he should.

As we were leaving the restaurant, he saw us and rushed to open the doors. For sure we will be back, but much earlier so we can tell for sure whether then the restaurant won’t challenge our vocal cords. The noise quotient was just so high — the crowd consisted mostly of people from the office and there was music with vocals piped in.