Note: This website champions the home bakers, because it’s from them that Manila’s best desserts come from. I hope that this article will be of help to those who aspire to be as successful as the home bakers mentioned here.

***

A recent jaunt through a bakers’ bazaar leaves me feeling unsettled. All the booths are selling the same thing: what I call the “holy trinity” of desserts – chocolate cake, cheesecake, and carrot cake. There are variations to the holy trinity of course but those three are constant. A few bakers at the bazaar have their own version of cupcakes that prove to be miserable little things cloaked in fake buttercream made from margarine. Ick. Sonja has nothing to worry about.

Sonja’s cupcakes

In my eight years as a food writer, I have interacted with and interviewed numerous home bakers, those that bake and sell from the home; and in my three years with this website, I have dedicated countless posts to those who I feel have something delicious to offer dessert lovers. Having been a home baker myself, I know firsthand about the trials and tired hands, the hassles and headaches that come with this special group. It’s a home business but it’s still a business. The bottom line matters more than you wish it does and the competition is fierce.

Give a stand mixer and spatula to anyone with a slight interest in baking and he/she believes he/she can be a home baker, in the same way that a guy with the latest digital camera believes he’s automatically a (professional) photographer. It’s not that simple. The good news is that with a few principles in mind and a lot of practice, perseverance, and patience you can become one of Manila’s best home bakers.

worth every peso: Jill Sandique’s P1,500 cheesecake

1. Know your market and yourself.
A home baker can’t be all things to all people. You must choose which market to target so that you can work efficiently and determine where to position yourself and your business. Decide whether you want to cater to the middle class or the upper class — the two are very different and so are their tastes. Will you use real mascarpone in your carrot cake frosting and only Philadelphia cream cheese in your cheesecake so that you can justify your prices? People in the upper tier won’t bat an eye as long as that carrot cake and cheesecake are so good it makes them forget their names. I once paid P1,500 for a single 9-inch cheesecake (above) and never looked back because it was that good.

Know yourself and remain true to your core. Before you go to town with your sweets, know what you want to sell and to whom. Before Sonja Ocampo (of Sonja’s Cupcakes fame) opened her store in Serendra, she was a home baker fulfilling cupcake orders. When the opportunity came for her to open a store, she chose to use French butter and Valrhona chocolate and she charged accordingly. She got dissed mightily by some people who found it outrageous to pay P60 (and more) for a cupcake. But Sonja stood her ground and now she’s reaping the success of her perseverance.

No home baker can (or should) be all things to all people. Strive to be exceptional with what you turn out and keep a reasonably tight product focus. This will help you to improve yourself and help your customers know how and when to buy your product.

2. Specialize in one or a few things.
I’ve come across home bakers’ product lists that read like a guide to desserts. Aside from confounding me with the sheer selection, this kind of list tells me that the baker is one of those dabblers, a peculiar “jack of all desserts, a master of none.” Yes, you can bake several things, but just how good are they? Not to mention, maintaining such an expansive product line is a Herculean and expensive task.

Jill Sandique’s Pistachio Sans Rival

Roshan Samtani’s Banana Cream Pie

Be aware of your capabilities and specialties as a baker. When I still had my baking business, I offered only cheesecake and to some clients, crème brulee. I was and still am especially proud of the former because it was the product of many recipes and years of trying and tweaking. I worked to make a New York cheesecake that was thick and unapologetically creamy with a slight tang; dressed in a special wraparound nut crust, it stood a regal five inches. Almost ten years later, I still haven’t seen a cheesecake like it anywhere in Manila (or the country, for that matter).

Cristina Santiago-Rivera’s Chocolata

Judah Liu’s Caramel Cake

Do what you do best, and again, refrain from trying to be all things to all people. Even the established home bakers are known for particular products: Roshan Samtani for her Lemon Torte, Karen Young for her Chocolate Ganache Cake, Gina Lopez for her “Cruffles,” Judah Liu for her Caramel Cake, Jill Sandique for her Pistachio Sansrival, Cristina Santiago-Rivera for her Chocolata, etc. Do away with frivolities such as lemon bars that aren’t made with real lemon and revel bars (they all taste the same and any six year old can whip them up).

3. Continually experiment and innovate.
Food is like fashion: trends come and go, and then there are the classics that endure forever. But even the most loyal clients will tire of a product line that resists change, or at the very least, an occasional makeover. Nothing soothes like a chocolate cake but sometimes I want to scream if I see another chocolate cake from Polly Garilao. Something new please, even just for now!

cupcake (above) and chocolate cake, both from Len Lo

Home bakers who are at the top of their game know the importance of constantly experimenting and innovating. They’re up on the latest dessert trends, but more importantly, they listen to what their clients want. Sharlene Tan of Qitchen who runs a thriving baking business while holding down a full-time job as Associate Food Editor for Yummy magazine tells me, “Having a really good product line, maintaining good relationships with clients, and going the extra mile for them are important to me. I also try to come out with new stuff often to keep their interest.” Karen Young of Karen’s Kitchen avers, “There’s always continuous improvement in my products.”

heart-stopping Turtle Cake from Trina Tiaoqui

Don’t just give customers what they expect. Offer them something they’re not accustomed to, something they don’t know they’ll like. It’ll be a pleasant surprise. Who would have thought Filipinos would fall head over heels for cupcakes and red velvet cake, a traditions-old Southern dessert? Consider home baker Dimpy Camara, a genius for creating frozen brazo. She drew on the best elements of the classic brazo de mercedes, made it authentic for its present context, and then executed it with excellence. It’s now a product (along with cupcakes) that’s being imitated by home bakers everywhere.

Create desserts so unequaled that it makes dessert lovers sit up and take notice. So you make a kick-ass chocolate cake, you say? Do something to make it stand out from the myriad chocolate cakes in Manila. Better yet, make something that isn’t being offered yet by other bakers. How about sticky toffee pudding cake? Nutella tart? shortbread cookies with a caramel layer? banana cream pie with a layer of dulce de leche? or what about something with white chocolate, perhaps? Personally, I’d like to see more pies offered by home bakers. Everyone makes cakes.

Challenge yourself to create that sense of dessert discovery and excitement in your clients and their loyalty will bond them to you for life. Going down this route may take longer, but if you have an unrivaled dessert, you can educate your customers to like it rather than pandering to mass market appeal.

Banana Cake & White Chocolate Sans Rival, both from Karen Young

Remember, the best ideas are those that create a new perspective or sense a (dessert) need before others do. I can tell you now that there’s one home baker in Blue Ridge who can’t make enough sticky toffee pudding cake to meet demand. This dessert will be big in the later half of this year and reach its peak popularity in 2009.

4. Use the best quality ingredients your target market can afford and charge for it.
There’s an overwhelming thread in the statements of the ten home bakers I talk to for this article, and that’s be consistent with your quality. Never scrimp on ingredients. The freshest and best ingredients you can get are indispensable to good baking: flour, unsalted butter, large eggs, sugar, real – not imitation – vanilla, and genuine chocolate (not compound chocolate) are the basis for baking bliss. Bad ingredients are just that – bad. Don’t expect lousy ingredients to undergo some kind of hocus-pocus in the oven. It doesn’t happen that way. You get out what you give in.

Killer Carrot Cake by Gina Lopez

Gina Lopez of Paisley Pastry believes that, “[you must be] honest with yourself. Is this something [you’d] enjoy baking and eating?” Trina Tiaoqui of Vanilla Bean adds, “When I feel that something is “puede na,”, I put it aside instead of serving a mediocre product.” Echoing that of her fellow home baker, Imelda Go of Magic Kitchen expresses her sentiment this way: “I don’t scrimp on the ingredients. I only make what I [would] want [to feed my family] and I make sure my clients get their desserts freshly made.”

Since you’re the baker, your taste counts the most when determining your offerings. Know what tastes good to you and consistently give that quality to your clientele. That’s the philosophy that Tina Diaz of Taza Platito lives by and she knows it’s what keeps her clients coming back.

Tina Diaz’s Fallen Chocolate Cupcakes

White Velvet Symphony by Imelda Go

Bottom line: never accept diminished standards of excellence.

5. Adopt a positive, accepting attitude.
No one ever says being a home baker is easy. Going from “no one’s baker” to “everyone’s baker” is a slow burn: Karen Young has had her business for 13 years already. Roshan Samtani has been selling her products since she was in college. Fact is, it can take years before your name even registers a blip on the dessert radar. So you’re a new baker with spanking new packaging, flyers, and what you believe to be the “next big thing” to hit dessert lovers. Be patient and believe in your product. A lot of what we perceive to be luck is not luck at all, but hard work and opportunity put together.

Taste is subjective and what tastes good to some will not taste good to all. Know how to hear, respond, and adjust to constructive feedback. If it’s not constructive, ignore it. Some people are just catty. Instead of letting comments get you down, persist, perform beyond expectations, and put out products you’re proud of.

Above all, act from a positive and hopeful place. After investing money, time and hard work into your baking business, divert your energies into thinking positively: a disposition of abundance achieves abundance.

Good luck.

First, I want to THANK YOU. It’s never easy to maintain a blog. The fact that I’m still here after three years and still chugging along is because of you.

I made cupcakes to mark DCF’s past two birthdays, so I decided change was in order. This year, I’m celebrating with homemade kaya jam paired with brioche that I’d made the day before. The celebration is complete with strong coffee and softly-boiled eggs.

A Round-Up Of The Year That Was…

I find myself in a pensive, reflective mood today, my website’s third year. The past year was extremely mellow for DCF — “scaled down and slowed down” to put it another way. This was the year I grew weary of food blogging, something I never thought I’d go through considering how frenzied my first two years were.

The year that was was also a time for me to take a stand on what Dessert Comes First is all about. After I came out with that post, some readers felt I was defensive; others asked me if something “had happened” that made me come out with such an article. I was honest and answered that the article was something I wrote to remind people and (myself!) that I can’t be as prolific as I wish I could be – life happens. On this website, it’s about quality never quantity.

photo from amazon.com

My Canon Powershot G2 also gave up on me after two years of dedicated service, and after some mourning on my part, I replaced it with its younger sister, a G7. All my travel shots this past year to Jakarta, Indonesia, Vancouver, Canada, Seattle, Washington, and Japan were taken with my G7. We’re getting along fabulously. Of course I still have my Canon EOS 400 D SLR.

photo from sociedadpajaril.net

After eating my way through almost all the desserts in Manila, I came out with a tongue-in-cheek post on the desserts I don’t like. I can’t even begin to tell you how many people were in disbelief about my not liking tiramisu and fruit salad. “How can anyone not like fruit salad???” They’d ask. I’d reply, “How can anyone like it?”

When it comes to coffee, I’m quite the late bloomer . I only came to appreciate this beverage when I was 33, and now a year later, I look forward to greeting each morning by choosing from the 11 kinds of whole beans I have, choosing my brewing method, and grinding the beans accordingly. It’s a daily ritual I cherish. Note however, that instant coffee will always have a place in my heart. And pantry. You never forget where you come from, after all.

Cupcakes by Sonja: 1 Year Later is a definitive post for me. It expresses my choice to write increasingly more substantive food articles, with subject matters readers can really sink their teeth into. It’s a given that I’ll always feature restaurants and new places on DCF, but posts on food issues with more depth will appear more often. I feel that it’s part of my growth as a food writer.

It was thrilling to be part of Preview’s Creative “It” List last October. Receiving recognition for this website is truly frosting on my cake. While ”taray” was a word I heard often to describe my expression in the photo, I was happy with how the feature it turned out. The reason for my expression in the photo? I didn’t feel like smiling that day.

Seems that there are two words that, when talked about on this website, will incite rage and unmitigated candor: caramel apples. My post on San Fo Treats is the champion with 124 comments. But while my post on Czarina’s Gourmet Apples has only half the number of comments (51), the discussion thread is definitely more vitriolic. Even I had no idea where such heated loyalties stemmed from.

You must know that when it comes to Manila, I’m hardly ever there. Reason is: I don’t know my way enough around that city to save my life. Hence, I’m hardly ever at Mall of Asia, Roxas Blvd., or even Malate or Robinson’s Place. Manila denizens who read this are most likely shaking their head and clucking their tongues, “Poor thing.” Yes, indeed.

So on the rare occasion my Bin and Boo are in Manila, we’re here cruising around the gargantuan Mall of Asia complex. The first thing my Bin says upon seeing the “San Miguel By The Bay” sign is, “Wow, branding!” He would know — it’s a statement that echoes his marketing and sales background. I almost expect a San Miguel Beer “blimp” to be looming down on us somewhere. As we drive down the road, restaurants – familiar and not so familiar – attract us, their bright lights melding into one another like in a kaleidoscope.

Touted as the “Better Baywalk” and the “New Baywalk” since its inception in December of 2007, San Miguel By The Bay (SMBB) is a kilometer and a half of entertainment, restaurants, toy-parks for the kids, and a concrete wall to sit on and admire the famed Manila Bay sunset. Walking down the stretch and weaving my way in and out of the throngs, I spy several couples cuddled close, no doubt whispering sugary nothings to each other and wishing the rest of us would disappear. The sunset is admittedly, dazzling, but this place is far too noisy and crowded for me to describe it as romantic. It’s a pleasant surprise however to note that there’s no seawater stench and that the environs remain clean. There’s hope for us all. And with the visible presence of security guards, I feel safe here.

Tonight there are actors in a pantomime. I can’t get close because some diva-wannabe is scolding onlookers, “Bawal mag-Kodakan!” Ngek. So I move on along with my Bin, and instantly we’re assailed by waiters clutching crumpled laminates of their restaurants’ menus and beckoning to us: “Dinner kayo dito sa amin, Ser and Mum!” or “Mas masarap kami dito, Ser!” Yes, dinner is in our plans tonight but after all this aggressive marketing, everything starts to look the same.

Most of the restaurants on this strip are pa-luto types, shop for your food at the neighboring “market” and then tell the waiter how you’d like it cooked. It’s just like being in Dampa and most of the restaurants here are branches of those on Macapagal Avenue, which is a few kilometers away.

We end up in a seafood restaurant curiously named Squared. Stepping into the mini wet market next door similar to the one in Dampa sa Libis, my Bin and I make quick work of our menu: shrimps (tempura – something Boo loves), tilapia (grilled), squid (calamari), and I decide to indulge in a 1-kilo lobster (with chili sauce). The vendor scoops up the crustacean from the safety of its aquarium so that it and I can eyeball each other. Its “antenna” are twitching furiously, and Boo screams in utter horror; to her this creature is probably the incarnation of her ugliest dreams.

Eating at places like Squared requires a certain mind-set — you have to be “game.” The aircon isn’t always on full blast what with the waiters shuffling in and out delivering food to those dining outside, it’s noisy, and it’s crowded. Still, the best meals aren’t always served in 5-star surroundings, and this is one of them.

Though the tempura served at these pa-luto places would make any Japanese chef squirm in disgust, it’s crunchy and the sauce sweet enough to tickle a child’s heart. Boo eats up heartily. The calamari reminds me of the ones they used to serve in Dean St. Café along Pasay Road (how I miss that place!), but this one has a more “burnt” flavor to it, if you get my drift. The tilapia couldn’t be any fresher – charred skin sheltering tender flesh seasoned with chopped tomatoes and onions. There’s something that a grill just does to seafood.

And then there’s my lobster that comes to the table, a flaming mass of orange. The chili sauce is seeping in and around the shellfish, little rivulets oozing juice and chili peppers. Its appearance at the table makes Boo wrinkle her nose, apparently, the nightmare is relived too soon. She dismisses my offer for her to try some. Oh well, more for me and my Bin.

The lobster has been overcooked slightly, its meat is not as soft as I’d like. But no matter, it’s still succulent and the sauce begs for more and even more rice. Though my God-given tools – my hands! – make short work of peeling the lobster, I’m starting to wish that I had my stainless steel crab cracker and seafood pick. After several minutes, my napkin-bib is a study in orange stains and I’m licking my fingers in satisfaction. This is what you call two-fisted, macho eating.

Note: Aside from the understandably pricey lobster, this meal can be had for less than P1,000.

Squared Palutuan
San Miguel By The Bay
Mall of Asia Complex,
Pasay City

What is extreme? Extreme is eating 12 scoops of ice cream in one sitting. Extreme is eating four cupcakes for breakfast. Extreme is falling so hard in love with a coffee shop that I eat there twice in seven hours. I’m guilty of all of the above, and so extreme is my latest sin of excess that it should be called “xtreme.”

Note: For the remainder of this post, “extreme” is spelled xtreme.

Xtremely Xpresso Café is a tremendously popular coffee shop in Subic. Calling it a coffee shop however, grossly undermines its totality. It’s so much more than that – it’s a coffee place, a café, a pizza parlor, a pastry shop, and a deli. Now that’s xtreme.

The café opened in 2003 serving primarily espresso-based beverages and accompanying sweets. The moniker, Xtremely Xpresso, connotes the “extremes” the owners will go to give the best to their patrons. Apparently, so xtremely good were their efforts that the management soon expanded their offerings to include a full-service menu from breakfast to soups to salads to pasta to main courses and pizzas.

The café-now-restaurant’s xtreme claims to fame are their pizzas. The oversized rounds are edibles encapsulating xtreme-ness: size. At 14 or 22 inches in diameter translating to 16 slices for the latter, these pizzas are so xtremely popular that during my two visits, I notice that every table has one.

The photo here is of the Big Ben (P649), the king of xtreme pizzas. It’s heaped with bacon, sausage, pepperoni, olives, beef, garlic, mushrooms, and a duo of cheeses. It’s impossible for the waiter to subtly place it on the table; plates and glasses have to be quickly moved as everyone at table expresses their “oohs” and “ahhs” in unison.

Its crust is the perfect compromise for thick crust/thin crust lovers. The crust is thin, but the ends are thick and puffy. Firmly entrenched in the thick crust camp, I’m scolded a few times by my Bin for surreptitiously attempting to slice off a few crusts for my consumption. When it comes to pizza, I prefer two or three toppings at most. I’m not a fan of everything-but-the-kitchen-sink varieties, but this Big Ben is good.

Xtremely Xpresso is loved — very loved — by Subic habitues and visitors from Manila. Having said that, do be prepared for slow service during evenings and weekends. The owners run a tight ship but they’re terribly understaffed. The staff that are there however, are very efficient.

Looks messy, tastes incredible

I also highly recommend the eggplant parmigiana (above), chicken oriental salad, and the plata patatas (not pictured) which is really just chunky mashed potatoes deluged in cheese sauce. It doesn’t look like much and the cheese sauce obviously comes from a can, but there’s something about it that makes it impossible to quit picking at it.

Much of Xtremely Xpresso’s charm is its ambience, an eclectic mish-mash of country-style meets bookstore. Look at the photo to understand. Off to the left is the pastry counter. Today, there are some appealing cakes like tablea-chocolate, hazelnut-chocolate, and a chocolate-carrot, my choice.

I’m not expecting much but the cake is just this side of moist with enough chocolate to make its presence tasted. Pair that with the best cappuccino (Lavazza coffee) I’ve had in months, and this dessert lover is happy. Xtremely.

Xtremely Xpresso Café
#1 Dewey Avenue corner Sta. Rita Road.
Subic Freeport Zone
(047) 252-3681
Open for breakfast, lunch, dinner, late night

The Meeting Place
SM City Clark
(045) 499-0314

When it comes to a businesswoman’s/businessman’s lunch, pace (it’s got to be snappy) and space (ambiance conducive to conversation) are ideal. Value is, inherently, the bottom line.

The Peninsula Manila’s Old Manila has launched a Rib-Eye Lunch Buffet – four words that induce gasps and glassy-eyed visions of slabs of meat with fat that shimmers like Queen Nefertiti’s crown. I’m tantalized with a carnivorous greed that borders on the pornographic. Because it’s billed as a Businessman’s Lunch, the buffet is lean, a stark contrast to its counterparts that are paeans to excess. An adequate amount of appetizers and starches are supporting players to the star that is the beef.

I consider a starter plate of smoked salmon spiked with spicy mustard and caper berries; a salad of mesclun and bitter arugula; two types of cold salads – potato and pasta, the latter boasts large chunks of the tuber. Generous lashings of freshly cracked black pepper, salt, and some cream of white asparagus soup. The soup is a bit salty today but I taste the fineness of the white vegetable and cream. Ah! My stomach is now properly primed and lined.

A waiter asks me and my two dining (working) companions how we’d like our steak done: medium for them, medium-rare for me. While waiting, I pick up a plate of cheese and what appear to be oversized raisins. “They’re Muscats,” my friend tells me, picking one up from the lot and nibbling on it. Known as a dessert grape, Muscats are a special variety selected for eating raw and also for making into wine. I pop one into my mouth and bite, jolted momentarily by the hard crunch I hear. There’s a pit in each Muscat so after the initial surprise, I pick up each one and nibble around the offending seed. It pairs well with the pumpernickel bread, its coarseness a good foil for the sweet Muscat followed by a bite of triple-cream brie.

roasting the rib-eye

It takes much longer than I expect for our steaks to arrive, but boy, are they a sight to behold when they finally do. The meats are a canvass for the expertly-crafted grill marks crisscrossing their surfaces. This is chilled (never frozen) US Angus Beef that tantalizes with promises of oozing juices, its meaty magnificence trembling at the threshold of bovine greatness.

I take a bite. And then I die a tiny, wordless death. The meat’s been cooked to medium-well, cavorting dangerously in the neighborhood of well-done, a far jump from my preferred (and pre-stated) medium-rare. I take another bite to confirm but I know it to be an irrelevant effort. I voice my disappointment to my companions and while one agrees with me, the other is just too titillated with the idea of all the steak he can eat that he can’t care less how it’s cooked. Because the buffet encourages repeat visits, we ask a server to bring us another slice of steak — just a small one, yes – and this time, cooked to a true medium-rare, please.

Just like the first round, the second steak takes between 10-15 minutes to be served. I wonder why it takes this long since I see the chef slice some almost immediately. And it comes to table lukewarm meaning that it’s been given ample time – perhaps too much time — to rest. Still, this second cut is more moist but not red enough for me. Hell, maybe I’m just a cannibal, in which case I should tell the chef: “Just lightly seared on both sides please, and if it doesn’t moo, then it’s overcooked.”

We finish the meal French style, that is, with cheese and fruit. The hotel’s Executive chef, Adam Mathis, who knows only too well my devotion to dessert sends out a special plate each for me and my friends: a dessert selection of five personal-sized sweets: (photo above, clockwise): white chocolate ice cream in a tuile cup, chocolate ravioli, chocolate parfait, a warm flourless chocolate cake sporting a mint sprig, and a chocolate rum ball with the surprise addition of chopped almonds and raisins.
Note: This dessert plate is not on the menu, but do tell the chef if you’d like to order one.

The Peninsula Manila is one of the few hotels that I have quite a connection with, both personally and professionally. It was witness to more than a few of my dates in high school and college when sweet nothings whispered in my ear meant more to me than sugar. The Lobby was also the place where my Bin and I had our first date – you could say I sealed his fate with the Choco Loco. Heh. In 2001, I wrote a piece about one of The Peninsula’s restaurants, Old Manila, which incidentally, is the restaurant I’m eating in today.

This is a gorgeous place basked in warm light that makes all the diners look lovely. Equally dazzling is the main mural done by renowned Filipino artist, Impy Pilapil — a glass relief fused with hand-blown glass pebbles and rippled etchings. Adorning the walls are large canvasses with bursts of bright colors, and in unexpected corners, hand-blown sculptures made of white marble and glass imbued with vibrant hues.

I love Old Manila and have never had a bad meal here so I know that the lackluster one I have today is just that – it lacks luster, but only for today. Criticism isn’t constructive unless it’s shared with someone who can do something about it, so I ask for Chef Adam. We talk as my two friends stare aghast at my white chocolate melting into a puddle. Right now it doesn’t matter; as I always say, take responsibility for your dining experience. Speak up if something’s not right.

truffles to end the meal

I’m going back to Old Manila again next week for the Rib-Eye Lunch Buffet. I’m confident that it won’t be anything less than stellar. You can’t keep meat eater me from a good piece of meat.

Rib-Eye Lunch Buffet at Old Manila
P1,600++ (full buffet)
P950++ (appetizer buffet)
Monday-Friday, 11:30am – 2:00pm

The Peninsula Manila
Corner of Makati and Ayala Avenues, Makati
For reservations and inquiries, call 887-2888 ext. 6748/6749

I think the way a person eats Oreos is programmed at birth. And it has nothing to do with genetics, I tell you. I have no patience for twisting-licking-dunking – I eat the cookies as is. My little girl Boo, however, has a very organized way of eating these chocolate sandwich cookies. Armed with a glass of milk, she lines the cookies up in a row (they usually come three to a wrapper), and with a deliberateness highly uncommon in a 5 year old, she’ll gently pry the two cookies apart, lick the white filling off of each cookie, and then eat each cookie after it’s been anointed in her glass of milk.

I’m not in the habit of cloning convenience treats but an excess of Dutch cocoa convinces me to try my hand at making homemade Oreos. This type of cookie is far from the drop cookies that I usually make — chocolate chip cookies and their ilk that are scooped up and then dropped onto a baking sheet. Oreos (at least the homemade version) are a type of rolled cookie where the dough is mixed, chilled, rolled out, shaped into circles with a cutter before the filling is added. Whew! Obviously, these are not the cookies to make when the munchies come a-callin’.

Sandwich cookies are all about contrasting colors and textures: a crisp cookie embracing a creamy vanilla filling. Also, the addition of corn syrup to a simple cookie batter pulls all the ingredients together and gives this snack “bite.” Of course the Dutch cocoa contributes the characteristic midnight hue, and makes it difficult to tell when these cookies are done baking. In times like these, the “nose knows.” Chocolate Lovers in Cubao sells this exotic black cocoa that would be perfect here in small amounts just for that extra black bang. But it must be used in conjunction with the Dutch cocoa because too much of it would be too intense.

The filling I use here is a marvel to me because it’s just butter, shortening, powdered sugar, and vanilla – practically the same ingredients used in an American buttercream. With a little milk for more spread, this could be a frosting for cupcakes even. I don’t fancy “splodging” on the filling so I pipe it on each cookie half using a large round. It makes for a neater, more authentic Oreo.

The result? A chocolate-y cookie with a smoky flavor from the dark cocoa with real crunch just like an Oreo. The filling is perfumed with vanilla – a far cry from its more processed counterpart. It’s delicious, and these practically scream to be paired with a glass of cold (one-percent skim) milk.

Authenticity however, can leave much to be desired, even if “authenticity” itself is loaded with additives and other hard-to-pronounce chemicals. Boo turns her nose up at my faux-reos: “They’re fake, Mom,” she says. All I can do is chuckle.

Note: Here’s a good recipe for making homemade Oreos.

Eating out is like trying my luck at the lotto, give or take some factors. Lately, I’ve been on a “losing streak,” where every restaurant I’ve been to has me feeling a hunger in my stomach and soul. It’s terribly disconcerting. Unless my meal was especially horrid, I almost always go back to a restaurant a second, even third time just to see if the first time around was a fluke. Here then, are some of my hits and misses in three separate posts all to be posted in one day.

In this series: Cocorama, C2 Classic Cuisine, and Paul Calvin’s Deli.

Paul Calvin’s Deli

The instructions are: ”It’s at the Fort … somewhere on the road between McDonald’s and Market Market.” I agree, not too helpful yes, and in my search to find Paul Calvin’s Deli, I end up taking a tour of the entire Fort; that is, until a security guard who’s heard of the place, points me in the right direction.

There’s not much to dislike about the place, in fact, I fall in love with it at first sight. Hues of orange and butter yellow glide into one another effortlessly accented by touches of country home paraphernalia. A sufficiently stocked deli and shelves of imported products mostly from Italy are a diner’s backdrop.

My first visit here is just for coffee and a cupcake – in this case, a banana-Nutella one. The cake has come straight from the chiller and since this is a butter-based batter, the cake has frozen right through. My teeth sink – well, with much effort admittedly – only to hit a rock-hard Nutella truffle center. I frown, and ask the server if she can heat up the cupcake for me. No, they don’t have a microwave so they’ll pop it into the toaster oven.

It doesn’t help much really, save for letting the damn thing melt in the sun, but at least the crumb has loosened somewhat. It’s a tasty cake, satisfying in its simplicity and the coffee’s not bad.

My second visit is a full-blown meal that starts out dismally and doesn’t quite pick up from there. The mozzarella sticks (P199) have obviously been sitting in the back of the freezer for too long that they’ve acquired the taste of whatever package they’ve been housed in. But I keep gnawing on them in hopes that they’ll taste better with every bite. The chicken fingers (P149; not pictured) are slightly better.

The homemade tapa (P149) is marinated in an absolutely tasty sauce that’s simultaneously sweet and peppery. Unfortunately, the meat is also so tough that every mouthful requires at least 30 chews before it can slide down the gullet. This is my Bin’s dish, and brave boy that he is, he’s actually finished off the entire thing but he looks thoroughly exhausted afterwards.

The smoked sausage and ham pasta (P199; not pictured), Boo’s dish, is safe and decent with just enough cheese and satisfying enough for a 5 year old.

Perhaps I should’ve ordered a sandwich since this is a deli after all, but the server recommends the rosemary-crusted salmon with parsley rice and mango salsa (P349). Each component stands on its own, leaving the diner with some tasty mix and match choices. The rice is pleasing to the bite and the salmon is cooked just ‘til it’s opaque so it’s tender and not dry. The mango salsa, layering flavors of cilantro, tomatoes, and mangoes, is good enough by itself but it somehow loses translation when paired with the fish. Like a boat set for the Caribbean that somehow gets sidetracked to France, this salmon may not be the correct fish to pair with this dish. Perhaps a more neutral tasting white fish such as dory or sea bass will fare better.

We’re a family that believes in a dessert for every diner, and today’s dessert trio includes a chocolate cake (P75), lemon merenge (their spelling) pudding (P65), and a New York cheesecake (P75). Looking at the dessert display, I notice that what Paul Calvin’s Deli calls their paradise chocolate cake is actually Starbucks’ dome cake, and what constitutes their classic chocolate cake is actually Starbucks’ chocolate cake. The decoration and appearance of the aforementioned cakes is unmistakably that of Starbucks’ cake supplier. When asked who makes their cakes, the woman behind the counter (almost) defensively states, “Oh we make all these ourselves.” Sure you do. Take a look at Starbucks’ chocolate cake and tell me if it doesn’t look similar to the one above from Paul Calvin’s Deli.

I’m saddened by the lemon merenge pudding. An example of a good concept that’s gone awry en route to execution, it’s a mishmash of mashed bread topped with crumbly meringue. The lemon flavor is there, and it’s perfectly good, but I come away from my first bite feeling like there’s something missing here – perhaps a good custard to moisten the dessert a little, or softer bread even, something that’s less rough around the edges, literally. As it is now, there’s not much that separates this dessert from an old sponge.

The New York cheesecake is the saving grace of the lot, and it’s also made by Starbucks’ supplier. It irks me when an establishment or a person passes off something as its or their own when it’s so obviously not theirs. It makes for bad kitchen karma, I tell you.

I really want to like Paul Calvin’s Deli, I do. Their servers are obviously eager to please, but my two visits don’t really shoot me through with optimism. Since it’s a deli, perhaps I’ll go back one day and try one of their sandwiches or their breakfast buffet that I hear is quite good, but I’ll stay away from the tapa.

Paul Calvin’s Deli
Unit F 111 Forbes Town Center, Rizal Drive, Bonifacio Global City
(632) 856 5900

Eating out is like trying my luck at the lotto, give or take some factors. Lately, I’ve been on a “losing streak,” where every restaurant I’ve been to has me feeling a hunger in my stomach and soul. It’s terribly disconcerting. Unless my meal was especially horrid, I almost always go back to a restaurant a second, even third time just to see if the first time around was a fluke. Here then, are some of my hits and misses in three separate posts all to be posted in one day.

In this series: Cocorama, C2 Classic Cuisine, and Paul Calvin’s Deli.

C2 Classic Cuisine
While Manila has become a global playground for our palates, I’ll never lose my love for Filipino food. While the classics reign supreme, there are times when I’m in the mood to be entertained by whimsical twists and tweaks on tradition. One such place that does this well is C2 Classic Cuisine, a restaurant of the Cravings Group.

Considering that the restaurant is a training ground for students of the Center for Culinary Arts (CCA), I’m surprised by how seamlessly the service and the quality of food mesh so well together. The Lumpiang Lucena (P180) quells my craving for something crunchy and vinegary, spring roll wrappers stuffed with shredded longganisa, vegetables, and grated young coconut. Its garlic-vinegar dip is cheek-puckering and opens up the appetite.

Because C2 is a place where tradition meets innovation – a culinary pushing of the envelope, if you will – I’m not at all surprised when the kare-kare (P475) I order is served de-boned atop a mound of the customary roll call of vegetables: string beans, eggplants, etc. A large receptacle holds the thick, peanutty sauce, but unlike the viand it’s meant to grace, it’s too viscous and is in desperate need of more flavor and less of that unnatural orange flavor (an overload of atsuete [annatto], no doubt). Undaunted, I push aside the offending orange sauce and ask for a dip of soy sauce, vinegar, and calamansi. Much better.

One dish that needs no doctoring is the Pork Humba (P275; cover photo), which is essentially pork belly (or liempo) that’s slow-cooked in a panocha sauce until it threatens to fall all over itself. Unctuous, with echoes of peanuts and needing hardly any chewing on my part, it’s one of those meat dishes that dissolves on the tongue.

C2 has a mighty impressive dessert list. The restaurant is much renowned for their Bibingka Soufflé (P145) which has won awards for its ethereal mélange of coconut custard, salted egg, quezo de bola, and toasted coconut. But as I said, I’m in the mood for all things that shatter in the mouth, so Turon ala Mode (P145) it is. The twist given to this street food is the ube smeared on the banana filling, its spring roll wrapper laced with a langka sauce. With a scoop of vanilla ice cream, this is one of those definitive hot-meets-cold desserts that tantalizes the taste buds.

I have high hopes for the Pastillas Panna Cotta (P135), which promises to be “a perfect blend of rich milk custard with pastillas morsels.” It’s good on all counts, just enough gelatin to set, and I can actually taste the pastillas though they’re not in morsels, but rather blended into the custard. There’s a layer of chocolate however, that while good, totally overwhelms the subtlety of the pastillas, rendering moot its delicate carabao milk taste.

C2 Classic Cuisine

*6th Level The Ledge, Shangri-la Plaza Mall, Mandaluyong City
636-1509 / 636-1510

*2nd Level Archaeology Area, Rockwell Power Plant Mall, Makati City
897-8113

Eating out is like trying my luck at the lotto, give or take some factors. Lately, I’ve been on a “losing streak,” where every restaurant I’ve been to has me feeling a hunger in my stomach and soul. It’s terribly disconcerting. Unless my meal was especially horrid, I almost always go back to a restaurant a second, even third time just to see if the first time around was a fluke. Here then, are some of my hits and misses in three separate posts all to be posted in one day.

In this series: Cocorama, C2 Classic Cuisine, and Paul Calvin’s Deli.

Cocorama
This place has got verve. A Beach-Boys-meets-Studio-54 vibe that jives in a groovy kind of way with the glitzy disco ball and the red and white VW Combi that serves as their kitchen (don’t ask me how they did it). A hanging blackboard at the back has an enigmatic message (that changes everyday) scrawled on it. Today it’s, “A nuclear war can really ruin your day.” (???)

Cocorama’s tongue-in-cheek sense of humor is most pronounced in their Jackson Five Pancake Stack (P135; see cover photo) – four chocolate pancakes and a lone white pancake. Get it? Jackson 5! The pancakes are fluffy enough to qualify for repeat visits, although the fact that the restaurant is in a mall cancels out any possibility of opening at more regular breakfast hours; a pity for early birds like me.

I’m dismayed with the Country Fried Chicken Steak that’s not only been burned but has also been fried in old oil. It’s leaden and heavy although the Star Margarine rice that comes with it subdues its porky partner’s flavor somewhat.

Other dishes to try here: pancake stacks in assorted flavors, coco bento specials, milkshakes, jumbo taco, and Philly cheese steak.

Cocorama Pancake Island & All-Day Groovy Café
6/F The Ledge, Shangri-La Plaza Mall, Ortigas
(632) 910 0401.

Admittedly, the restaurant’s name, Purple Feet, gives me pause, but once I’m made to see that the restaurant is an extension of the wine store, it all starts to make sense. The wine making process of old included the time-honored tradition of stomping the grapes into what is commonly referred to as “must”, the freshly-pressed juice of grapes. Today, mechanical crushers have replaced the “purple feet,” thus “stomping out,” (some say) the romance and ritual of wine making, but one cannot argue the tremendous sanitary gain that the mechanical presses bring.

Purple Feet is decidedly unfussy in its ambiance, almost utilitarian in its décor. Guests are surrounded by crates of wine and sit on wooden tables and chairs. Wine choices are listed on pillars, and as I can expect from a restaurant that claims its “wine list is our wine shop,” wine is a huge aspect of the dishes served here. This restaurant is what I imagine a wine lover’s paradise looks like.

The chef, Marco Legasto, invites diners to let their culinary imaginations fly. The menu is written out on a big blackboard for all to see, raw materials that the chefs can work wonders on: prime cuts of beef, pork, poultry, rabbit and ostrich, and seafood. The menu abounds in big pleasures supported by a constellation of flavors. I’m told to choose a protein and then tell the chef my preferred preparation and flavor. I’m told that the chefs can handle a variety of cuisines from Indian to Spanish.

In pursuit of the restaurant’s vision of freestyle cooking – basically giving the diner what he/she wants to eat – Chef Marco and his crew place a unique challenge on their guests: choose your food and tell them how to cook it. As a zealous food lover who occasionally putters in the kitchen, I relish the idea; my friend however, an avowed “canned-food eater,” is terrified. The chef that comes out to talk to us, who obviously is used to such fearful indecisiveness, is successful at getting my friend to choose a meat: “Lamb chops, yes.” How shall I cook it? Again, that bug-eyed look. “Perhaps with some rosemary and olive oil,” I interject. The chef nods knowingly. “The classical way,” he announces.

I, on the other hand, am about ready to bolt from my seat in excitement, like the annoying classroom know-it-all. “I’m feeling adventurous today,” I tell the chef confidently. I peruse the blackboard. “How does rabbit taste?” “Like chicken,” is the reply. After some discussion, chef decides on braising the rabbit in a deep red wine sauce reminiscent of Mediterranean cooking. With the main dish dilemmas out of the way, the chef disappears into the kitchen while the waiter ambles up to us and asks which sides we prefer: risotto or pasta?

The saving grace – the prize, if you will – for being made to “choose your own meal adventure” at Purple Feet is the masterful handling of top-tier ingredients. Every bite sparkles, every flavor flows seamlessly into the next one. Today, the braised rabbit remains beguiling fare, its tender meat bathed in a sauce heavy on red wine with murmurs of the Mediterranean – olives, rosemary, garlic, and the purest olive oil. On another day, my dining companion and I have our own personal epiphanies with our respective dishes – him with his chicken (not spicy, please!) curry (see cover photo), and I with perhaps the best pork tenderloin I’ve had. Ever.

On this evening, I’m all set to once again dine at Purple Feet. I have steak on my mind, perhaps one of those mammoth 800 gram US Prime Rib Eye (P3,000) slabs of meat that they serve. But upon seeing Chef Marco, I ask, “What do you feel like cooking tonight?” After some thought, he replies, “I’ll make you some laing stuffed in pork tenderloin, roll it up, and then top it with uni butter.” Yes, not too impressive sounding I have to admit then and there, but I take the food lover’s leap of faith and let the chef’s creativity be.

And how I’m rewarded for it! The dish comes to me awash in that ethereal aroma of truffle oil (from where? from where? I ask myself). The smokiness of the laing creates a depth that’s deepened by the uni butter – an amalgamation of whipped butter, uni, foie gras for silkiness, and truffle oil. Melting in its divine state, it renders every bite of pork tenderloin juicy and an absolute food from the gods. Good lord, take me now. The meat is complemented with spoonfuls of mushroom risotto that is perfection in itself. I still smile at the blissful memory of this dish.

Desserts are a simpler, more straightforward matter, though I wouldn’t mind having to construct my dessert from scratch. The bread pudding is so good that all spoons zero in on it and finish it off in seconds. With some irritation, I have to prod my self-proclaimed “non-dessert eater” friend to leave some for me. The panna cotta is a darling little thing with a beautiful mango flower atop its soft, velvet body. Another time, the baked cheesecake is like a study in the architecture of flavor. Four cheeses – cream cheese, Gouda, Havarti, and aged cheddar – mix and meld. The result: a very dense, very rich cake where the Gouda flavor reigns over all. The dessert’s subtle chewiness and mouth-cloaking texture is fascinating, and it’s a dessert that I finish while deciding whether I like it or not.

The only loser on the dessert list is the apple pie, certainly an easy dessert in terms of conceptualization and execution. Butter-enriched bread (think: brioche, challah, etc.) is left to stale for a few days before being formed into “cups” by toasting them in muffin cup pans. Apple chunks sautéed in butter and mixed with raisins and cinnamon are then placed in the “cups,” and covered with a top “crust” of some more toasted bread. Sounds easy enough to eat and enjoy, but the apples are dry, almost crying out for some sort of basting liquid, and the bread is so crusty I can snap it in two. I’m also appalled at the use of processed cheese product that garnishes the dessert. I’m very frank with Chef Marco when I tell him that this dessert needs to be re-thought, and to avoid using “supermarket cheese” in the future. He must be thinking I’m “schizo” – a far cry from the fawning, all-adoring fan of his savory food, only to turn into a savage when it comes to dessert. But he says he understands. I hope.

When at Purple Feet, I highly suggest talking directly to a chef when mulling over what to eat and not to the servers. I find that the chefs can (obviously) give me more enlightened, exciting food choices instead of a server who recites things by rote. Their service is efficient but if you’re as demanding with your food as I am, then go directly to the people wearing white. Even when it comes to wines, I find that the restaurant’s so-called sommeliers aren’t exactly spot-on. Though I know next to nothing about wines, I find that the sommelier’s suggestions to my yearning for a “sweet, slightly fruity wine,” are met with a blank look. On another visit, another sommelier tells me that I can’t have my Moscato Di Asti (an exquisite dessert wine) with my main course. I march up to Chef Marco to ask if this is true and he waves away my apprehensiveness. “You can do what you like,” he says.

And that’s what Purple Feet is all about – a way of eating that is intelligent and inspired, dishes that are direct and true to their flavors with original and unexpected seasonings that evoke intense, immense emotions in me, cooked by chefs that are inspired and willful. I’ve had some of my best meals in recent memory at Purple Feet. With some imagination and a sense of adventure, you will too.

Purple Feet
217 Nicanor Garcia St. (formerly Reposo St.),
Bel-Air, Makati City.
897. 3220 / 897. 8167
Open from Mondays – Saturdays,
10:30am – 2pm; 5:30-10pm.