Piadina and Pariahs

As a newly baptized pariah of Philippine society, it was fitting to dine in a place of childhood comfort where our wallet size was always welcome: Piadina. McDonald's and Coffee Experience nearly made it to the list but then again, cushioned seats were mandated that day. Last time I ate in Piadina was probably a decade ago, and last time I fully enjoyed Robinson’s Galleria, I was still sporting my Goldilocks high school uniform in a sleek bob. So 90s.

With flare jeans memories flooding my vision, you might call it blast from the past, though I’d prefer pariah on a budget—and a bit lost on the side. That Robinson’s Galleria Veranda required crossing the street, while my old-time favorite apple pie and St. Cinnamon have succumbed to the decade 2000’s advancement to gelato and anything red velvet.

And so, if there’s anything left from the quaint past, it’d be Piadina. Plus points for being empty on a Saturday. Lunch time. Sale day. Come to think of it, where are the people? Is this the new after life? Oh right, they’re looking for Mang Inasal.

Piadina used to be our destination of choice because of its piadina-pasta meals which were innovative back then, and cheap on the side. Having Italian food for such pocket-friendly price was quite the attraction, and the thought of eating at Piadina (back then, I repeat) sounded rather sophisticated, unfamiliar folks might as well thought we had lunch in the hills of Sicily.

[caption id="attachment_2200" align="aligncenter" width="491"] Warning: These are not tofu orbs.[/caption]

Of course moving to the present these unabashed thoughts seem rather unfounded.

A decade smarter and heavier, it seems that the Piadina references to Italy were liberally granted and being a conservative, I would like to paraphrase my adolescent mumbling. Piadina is still that Italian restaurant that wishes you “God bless!” upon your exit. Why they do that, it must be a call for glad tidings or a possible return. I’m banking on the latter because based on my 2012 experience, Piadina can certainly improve on its dishes, to at least reflect its ambience and colorful menu. True, the place continues to offer meals at affordable prices, but as for taste, I suppose Michael Corleone would on a spontaneous shooting spree once he gets a bite of anything from here.

The Pasta Cabrese lacks the flavor of anything under the bright Tuscan sun. While oil based, it could still benefit from the collective flavor of the garlic and anchovies, but I received nothing gastronomically satisfying, not even after shaking half the contents of the parmesan cheese. If it wasn’t for the broccoli, this pariah would’ve been a reincarnation of one angry and hungry consigliere.

The Margherita Pizza looked stunning upon delivery, with the waft of freshly baked ingredients and the promise of that delightful Piadina crust. While the flavor was excellent—after all it was just cheese and basil—the crust was on the tough side. Being tough is a good thing for a person, but for pizza crust/dough, it doesn’t go well, especially when there’s no olive oil-balsamic vinegar dip to dunk that chunk of rock.

As a precaution to those with dentures or use Sensodyne, the pizza is not for you. If you insist on it though, do share it with someone. Don’t hog it all to yourself or you’ll find yourself drinking your Sensodyne the next time around.

The Baked Chicken meal came with rice and a wee scoop of vegetables that looked like cafeteria cooking. Mediocre was the order of the day, and it looked more like a normal rice meal than a serving of Italian-inspired pollo. It’s probably their way of saying, Piadina is our specialty so it’s the only food we got right. Live with it.

But wait, isn’t the pizza also Piadina-based?

Ah well, it’s best that I end this harangue before I get banned from Galleria, my once second home and haven for the giggly Goldilocks girls.

Piadina doesn’t claim to be gourmet par excellence, just an Italian joint for the economically challenged. It is highly possible that my menu selection is flawed and their Pasta Vongole or actual Piadina do taste sublime.

After all they’ve been in that same spot for years, so there must be a sensible reason for that longevity. Outliving Las Paellas and Chef d’ Angelo, Piadina’s secret recipe might remain a secret from me, but not for the people (Who are you?) who dine there. I may not have seen you, but you probably exist under the tables or belong to the next shift.

My 2012 Piadina experience may have been quite the letdown, but visiting Robinson’s Galleria will always be a reminiscent escapade.

From yesteryear’s yellow uniform to today’s pariah, it has always turned a blind eye on our dirty deeds. And so I return the favor to Piadina: God bless!

S&R Splurge

If there's one thing we don't do at S&R, it's shop. Well yeah, we buy chips and drinks once in a while, but if the S&R guys were to carefully plot our visits and purchases, they would find the strangest consumer item of preference: Pizza.

While we've been celebrating pizza nights at S&R for ages, which is highly possible with cheese, combo, pepperoni, shrimp and the seasonal barbecue chicken as rotating flavors, there is no such thing as getting "sick" of the place. With calzone and fries in the roster, it's a place we might as well call our second home.

The cheese pizza on its own is screaming with golden cheesy sheen while the garlic and shrimp is seafood splendor that escalates it to my "craving" level.

Innovation is highly encouraged for those who want a poutine-inspired masterpiece. Fries on pizza, why not? I'm not as adventurous, and would just prefer to smother my slice with mustard and onions (which does not make a pretty photo, I tell you).

[caption id="attachment_1834" align="aligncenter" width="512"] Someone's hungry: Fries-topped Pizza[/caption]

I've skipped the burgers and hotdogs phase, being an all-year Lenten diner, but with churros, fries and chicken rolls on the list, the place is becoming a better-than-fastfood joint. Heck, they've even got a sandwich bar and ice cream station (It's Blue Bunny, so beat that) which recently added shakes and pastries on the chiller. Fabulous.

[caption id="attachment_1833" align="aligncenter" width="614"] Shrimp Salad with onions on the side[/caption]

What makes me doubly pleased is the addition of salad in their menu. While the Chicken Caesar Salad was a giant bowl of veggie delight (all great, except for the dressing), the Shrimp Salad was absolute enjoyment. A bit smaller in serving with about 6-8 shrimps, the salad is gratifying and amazingly improved by that wee slice of lemon. Refreshing, light and certainly agreeable even to the anti-vegetables, it makes a great siding to the hungry and a perfect meal to those like me - who consider dessert as part of the meal!

Dessert time meant visiting the actual store and raiding the chiller for something to-go worthy. 

[caption id="attachment_1836" align="aligncenter" width="461"] Move over, Blue Bunny. Make way for Mudslide.[/caption]

The choice was terrific: Tillamook Mudslide. Chunky chocolate swirls circled creamy chocolate ice cream. Forget EQ; despite its partially melted state, my mind urged me to dig in, and I did. No manners, no civilized utensils. All was forgiven in the presence of this dandy dessert.

[caption id="attachment_1835" align="aligncenter" width="461"] Better start calling it (melted) Chocolate Fudge Ripple.[/caption]

While it wasn't a 100% mudslide, as I was looking for a hint of coffee, it was a perfect fudgy treat. More of a Chocolate Fudge Ripple. Now that's more like it.

Next time we ought to try its Vanilla Flavor, unless S&R decides to re-stock on Klondike.

If that's the case, bring out the coin.

Moshi Moshi or Sayonara?

It wasn’t the catchy restaurant name that got us barging in Moshi Moshi at Regis Center, Katipunan. Neither was it the green and white interior that dared to scream animo verde in Blue Eagle territory. It was gluttony, really—the Japanese Kitkats that decorated the walls sucked us like a magnet, as we hoped would be freely given out as we made our googly-eyed, kawaii entry.

However there were no Kitkats or even mochi to spare, only J-pop that was more sappy Saizen than bouncy One Piece. With that chirpy reception, it was difficult to detect what the actual humans bellowed in welcome, whether it was a Moshi Moshi, banzai or even Baka! (“stupid”).

With this line-up-and-order method, it was midway between fastfood and fine dining or simply put, the BonChon Chicken style of speeding things up. BonChon Chicken, coincidentally, happens to be the neighboring stall, so this must be a Regis Center Oriental-mad-dash-express-eating trend.

I did learn one lesson: Never flip the placemat, expecting more food, or suffer, stare at and endure the Moshi Moshi mascot's evil grin.

Moshi Moshi has a limited menu assortment and sadly, does not offer my Japanese cuisine staples: tofu and noodles. It was a purely rice-and-viand feast, a splendor to the rice eaters but devastation to those upholding I-want-something-else-but-rice. Do not expect maki or sashimi to make a cameo either because this place is fast food, express meals for the third world diners, devoid of gourmet, sake and Kitkat.

In an effort to maintain harmonious relations with our manga mates, I forbade my brother from sneaking in food from nearby Bonchon, despite the nagging temptation of cluck-cluck chicken. It was Moshi Moshi all the way, grease streak and carbo fest, and meals finished in a couple of minutes.

[caption id="attachment_1353" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Takoyaki"][/caption]

The Takoyaki was cheap, perfectly seasoned and topped with gigantic bonito flakes. I spied bits of tako (octopus) that were not consistently spread among the 6 plump balls. This led me to think that my octopus meal was born with only 3 legs. Poor thing. The batter was too soft and rather undercooked, that if takoyaki would come in sashimi form, this is how it would taste and look like. Since I’ve developed this strange fondness for the three-legged octopus and its offspring, I choose to promote its longevity and abstain from octopus dishes from now on. Tentacle swear.

[caption id="attachment_1350" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Okonomiyaki"][/caption]

The Okonomiyaki was thoroughly baked and more nourished with greens, which at least made me feel like I was finally ingesting something aside from dough. Still, the same set of seasoning made it feel like eating takoyaki again, except that this require more chewing power. Interestingly, the okonomiyaki was the most expensive item in our receipt and so the hopes on this one were sky high. If there’s such thing as typical okonomiyaki, then this marks the tiny spot. However if I were to pursue the real okonomiyaki, then we’d have to drive far South (ahem, ahem Pasay Road) for that.

[caption id="attachment_1351" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Chicken Karaage"][/caption]

I expected the Chicken Karaage to be plump, breaded and filled with soy goodness. What we got were flouredchicken chops leaving grease stains on bond paper. The mini mayo siding served more as an ornament than an actual sauce, leaving a dry and papery after taste which water alone cannot save. It was the excess Takoyaki sauce that saved the day, now if only it was available in thermoses as well.

[caption id="attachment_1352" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Tendon Bowl"][/caption]

The rice bowls are available in regular and level up, which is of no consequence or appeal to me since the thought of “more rice” can only bring horror and muffin tops. The Tendon Bowls purchased by my closest kin did seem to do the job of filling them up, but as for gastronomic satisfaction, the fact that my Ossan kept on mentioning “un-fresh oil” can only mean the negative. However Onichan did take his time finishing his bowl, giving rise to the conclusion that oldies may have a thing for grease, but the Blue Eagles will always have a hungry welcome for Moshi Moshi.

As for me, it’s more of “Ja ne, Moshi Moshi!” After all, with so many interesting restaurants sprouting along Katipunan, there are so many others that this Maroon-blooded, green archer can choose from the blue highway. Do I hear cluck-cluck or something sweet and inspiring?

Itadakimasu!

Thai Will Be Done (@Oody's)

Thai food is best described as vibrant, diversely flavored and patron-choosy—which is why I’ve never been too fond of it, being one of the patrons forced to face its spite. The spicy part, I can endure, but the liberal flavor of fish sauce and peanuts has not been too friendly to my salt-averse sense of taste. The Legaspi Market’s Pad Thai though, drastically improved my assessment on this dish and presented an opportunity of, possibly, craving Thai food in the future.

And crave I did.

 Oody’s Greenbelt was a mindless choice, logistically advantageous and appealing to the Makati walkers. That, and for some odd reason, my peers did not consider Banana Leaf an option. Pity—and so Oody’s it was!

 

My quest for Pad Thai was thwarted though, by the flaunting photo of the Pad Siew. Less pallid, fortified with greens and devoid of peanuts—it seemed to reach out to me, and so I ditched the Pad Thai fancy. It was a choice not to regret. Pad Siew literally means “fried with soy sauce” and its rice noodles were chewy yet tender, just the way I imagined them for weeks. The chunks of chicken and scrambled egg were generously incorporated in the dish and not placed as a measly siding. While a bit on the oily side—what can you expect from stir fried noodles?—I suspect a cup of tea would assuage the risk of a shortened lifespan. Nonetheless, the tea never emerged, but rather, a hefty crepe with ice cream. I suppose there’s always room for dessert.

The Pad Thai and Noodle Soup with Chicken were not mine to begin with, but let me provide snippets of the comments from my equally hungry and opinionated mates:

Soup:

“I suppose it’s okay.”

“I’m only eating soup because I have gastro-something. I sure hope it’s not spicy!”

“I’m paying this much for this soup? Hmmm.”

When asked for comparisons, “Of course Pho Hoa serves much better soup. This doesn’t even come close.”

Pad Thai:

“Wow, that’s a lot! But your Pad Siew looks way better!”

“You can have some of my Pad Thai, you know.” To which I nearly screamed, “No, thank you!”

I rest my case.

 ON THE SIDE

House appetizers – The spicy peanuts and fried wanton made lovely centerpieces and to our delight, were rather tasty. “Refillable” was another key to securing our economical enjoyment. As for hygiene, well that’s another story.

Service – Undertaking the challenge to serve us water in small, decorative glasses, Oody’s waiters nearly regret their insensible decision. While tall glasses graced other tables (I wonder why), they opted to serve us, human camels and giant gulpers, the beakers amongst their dishes. Concession was made by leaving a pitcher instead, but that was after about 3 rounds of “Water, please. Your free peanuts are choking us!”