Va Va Bene!

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

Ciao!

- J.Anne Gonzales

Mi Piace Trattoria Gourmet

The word Trattoria can be one tricky fellow for those whose Italian vocabulary is limited to panini and gelato. The hypotheses of the weary and trying hard can range from “traitor” to an anagram of “Tori Amos”.  Either answer is obviously more misleading than the previous, which leads to consulting the handy master, Google.

Turns out, Trattoria is simply translated as “little Italian restaurant”. No need for Boggle skills, which I fail miserably at in the first place.

In Manila, there’s this Trattoria Gourmet in Shangri-La Mall, which reflects the proper translation. Only difference is that it engages more in commerce and less in village-people-get-together tavern behavior where take home is common. Sure, in the Philippines take home is just as acceptable when visiting villages, but in Trattoria Gourmet—respectable restaurant and retail business that would like to make a proper living—no take home, containers or spilling alfredo inside well hidden lunch boxes. Let us do our part in preserving cleanliness of our surroundings and not screwing with its real income return.

Trattoria Gourmet serves eat-all-you-can dishes on a daily basis, and that eat-all-you-can salad and soup combo makes a pretty good target for vegetarians, South Beachers and prim old ladies. I would have to fall under the first category.

The Sunday buffet includes that lush salad bar with 6 types of dressings (I remember herb vinaigrette, balsamic vinaigrette, garlic something, low cal italian dressing and 2 more) with quite a spread of of toppings, one visit is never enough.

The ubiquitous Romaine lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, carrot strips, mushrooms, cheese, egg, olives form the spread but there are also the strange visitors (strange since I do not make the habit of placing them on my plate): raisins, corn, green gulaman, turnips, and pineapples (which I had for dessert instead).

 

Ready-to-eat Potato and macaroni salad are also served for the lazy, and there is also that Penne Pesto salad which deserved a scoop every time I visited the salad bar. It was that magnificent that foregoing the actual pasta selection was of no regret to me.

 

 

The soup section offers 2 variants in steaming vessels, even soup haters would have to try at least a teaspoon of their luscious concoctions. The Creamy Asparagus seemed all right, so I moved on to the more enticing catch: Mushroom Soup!

The mushroom soup was clear-brown with grand bits of oyster mushrooms swimming at the bottom. Scoop them out and find yourself in shroom heaven. I had two bowls, enough said.

The soup actually goes well with the house appetizer, which was lovingly prepared and presented, we jsut had to finish the entire display, as courtesy to the host.

Pasta dishes available were the usual favorites for the local folks: Alfredo and Bolognese.

Having passed up the pasta and pizza buffet, it seemed that the Bolognese was the better choice. Meaty and al dente, numerous diners did return for seconds (or thirds), while the alfredo seemed to be its buttery and bland companion.

 

The pizza served included Margherita and Pepperoni. Rather minimalist in toppings and size, the flavor made up for this seeming deficiency. Especially when freshly baked, the pizza still brings in much love from the Italian oven compared to other local counterparts.

[caption id="attachment_2247" align="aligncenter" width="614"] Note: Pizza embellished with pasta bar toppings[/caption]

The Trattoria Gourmet Sunday Buffet was a grand trip to Italian gourmet excellence. There was no need for 10 more dishes or a smorgasbord of items we could not pronounce or better yet, not have the chance to eat.

Minimalism was the key in getting us to enjoy the feast, and not really waste our time wandering and walking into areas of less interest. If all buffet set-ups were this friendly and well stocked up, then everyone would be happy and sipping wine on the side. No tempura banters or fighting over fried rice.

Just wondering how they got to make their pesto that bene.

Other than that slight hitch, Non mi posso lamentare. ("I can't complain.")

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!

Out for Brunch (@ Manila Polo Club)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Very Sunday Brunch, if I may say so.

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

XOXO, Lazy Black Cat

There's Something About Mary Grace Cafe

When I was 8, we used to live along Mary Grace Street. Boy, was it difficult to direct people to my abode, with questions about my full name or who the heck this Mary Grace figure is in Philippine history. You see, before Mary Grace, we lived along Nicanor Ramirez Street, very tough and in-the-hood, so you can probably how people reacted to this shift to this grandma’s cookie world.

However I digress. The point I am trying to make is that through the decades, the name Mary Grace has become quite acceptable and mainstream, it even became the restaurant name of the eponymous owner Mary Grace.

I have never met the Mary Grace of Mary Grace Café, and I don't suppose I will in the near future. However I am glad that while strolling along Serendra, getting near-death slave hungry and finding only 1k in my wallet (boo-hoo), I came across her joint.

Now this joint isn't that crochet-filled niche that is preserved to grandma standards, it's a quaint little place filled with homely trinkets and decor, a comfy vibe yet not scarily vintage. Best of all, it’s properly dimmed to accommodate chatty moms, mistresses and vampires (that’s where we fall).

[caption id="attachment_1897" align="aligncenter" width="614"] Grandma's Wall[/caption]

The ladies in waiting (well that's how they appeared to me) are accommodating, and the display of cakes is rather remarkably highlighted. The table set-up showcases letters written by previous customers, kids mainly who seemed to enjoy Mary Grace's cooking over their mom's Ragu creations. I wouldn't blame them.

[caption id="attachment_1899" align="aligncenter" width="461"] Table set-up I thought only existed in HE class[/caption]

While I spied pizza in one corner, I opted for pasta, having seen every table with a bowl of something. I wanted one too! Plus with their magnanimous selection of pasta, from cream to tomato to oil based, the choice was already difficult on its own. There was the cream dory pasta that I was dying to have, but the something fishy happened and I ended up with the Spanish Sardines Pasta with Olives.

[caption id="attachment_1896" align="aligncenter" width="614"] Cat Food: Green and Fishy[/caption]

The pasta was a bit overcooked, but the serving made up for this minor peeve. The bread was chewy and properly toasted, Mary Grace should really start calling herself the Bread Queen. The sardines were generously spread, and the pesto just right and fresh. Every bite maintains that sardine-pesto edge that we don’t normally get for other restaurants that scrimp out on the seafood toppings.

Asking for chili and parmesan, I may have overdone the sprinkling part as my dish evolved into a hot and salty fish bowl, but it was delightful nevertheless. Truth be told, I do not really eat sardines, and so this first-time-fish-fiesta did well to educate my taste buds and finally have a tertiary fish option to tuna and salmon pasta.

[caption id="attachment_1895" align="aligncenter" width="614"] Who doesn't love Carbonara?[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1894" align="aligncenter" width="614"] Glad this kid had his carbonara fill. Wouldn't want him camping out under my table.[/caption]

The Classic Carbonara was creamy and flavorful, it seems that it warrants a second serving as well.

[caption id="attachment_1893" align="aligncenter" width="614"] Seems like Mary Grace gets more letters than Santa![/caption]

While Taguig denizens we are not, at least Mary Grace Café has her own joint at Trinoma. Not as homey and rather exposed to the shopping public, should I get that nagging craving for vongole, at least all it takes is a hop, not a flight.

West Coast Series: The Real Meals

Forget the greens, salsa and vinaigrette which were so last post (West Coast Series: Salads and Sweets), you’d think I’ve gone all Bugs Bunny on you. Truth is, it’s time to cast off the pretension and start focusing on the “real” food—the full courses, carbs and that thing we call a proper meal.

"I'll pass" is something unheard of in the sight of these almighty meals, while starvation, a word only concocted by activists - an institution that will never accept me for my lack of shouting intensity.

Once in the West Coast, the best thing to do is take a seat, eat and forget all about it. After all, what happens in the West, stays in the West!

Not to be left behind though are the photos (and proof) of those outlandish and sizzling moments that always ended with that blissful burp. The burgers were not mine, but were just as irresistible to shoot!

Bon appetit! Or should I say, more appropriately: DIG IN!

[caption id="attachment_1649" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Fish Tacos, Tacos Mexico"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1647" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Philly Cheesesteak, Charley's"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1650" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Tuna Salad Sandwich with Pickled Red Onions, International Cafe, Universal Studios"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1651" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Pad Thai, Thai Kitchen"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1645" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Spinach, Mushroom and Tomato Pizza, Bonnano's, MGM Hotel"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1652" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Spinach and Broccoli Stuffed Pizza, Sbarro"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1654" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="My Mexican Salad Platter, Spice Market Buffet"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1655" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Seafood Selection, Spice Market Buffet"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1653" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="My Dainty Dessert Portion, Spice Market Buffet"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1646" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Buckwheat Noodles, Asian Grocery"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1644" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Spinach and Artichoke Dip, Applebee's"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1643" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Blackened Chicken Penne, Applebee's"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1648" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Cheeseburgers, In-and-Out Burger"][/caption]

Papa John's: Papa Mia!

Rather than get held at gunpoint by Papa John and his pizza cosca, it was time for us to visit his joint and try out his so-called legendary pan pizza. No need for violence or horse heads, capo. With the green and red logo that is so hard to miss, even the color blind would find his way to Papa John's welcoming doorstep.

Papa John's (SM North) is bustling with red, bricks, and seemingly normal folks. Devoid of Buon apetito crewmen and Can-I-get-yer-order? gum-chewing waitresses, I inspected our salt and pepper shakers in the last effort at protection and preserving my life. Just plain salt and pepper. Check. Now that it's been settled, let the real Buon apetito begin!

While there was no actual Papa John to take our order, at least he was plastered on the walls—a very fit and trim Papa John—and will be dining with us in spirit.

The menu is fraught with choices that would boggle the simple-minded: pan pizza or thin, tick or tin (“thick or thin” pardon our waiter's slang), spaghetti or penne? I half expected milk or creamer, yin or yang, life or death—but good thing the questionnaire stuck to food-related inquiries, as we were really on the verge of attacking the open windowed kitchen with our salt and pepper shakers.

[caption id="attachment_1448" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Cheese Sticks"][/caption]

Cheese Sticks

The name is a misnomer, and even a child could point that out. Sticks ought to be thin and pointy; while this one is flat and round. If the waiter hadn’t chirpily announced the coming of the “cheese sticks” I’d swear he served us a complimentary kid’s meal. I would like to rename this dish, small cheese pizza. As for the taste—no need to get all creative—it tastes like a small cheese pizza. Next!

[caption id="attachment_1442" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Arrabbiata"][/caption]

Arrabiata Pasta

The pasta came in a small bowl that is better fitted to feed Bambino John. With this serving size, we will need to order at least 3 bowls to get my family back to sanity—and with no bread rolls on the side, this lack of carbs is the surefire way to whack my family, no guns necessary. The Arrabbiata sauce was peppered with tomato and black olive bits to complement the fresh-tasting sauce. At least by Papa John’s standards, this makes the cut.

[caption id="attachment_1447" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Diablo Burst"][/caption]

Diablo Burst Pasta

The Diablo Burst came in the same signature bambino bowl, but we’ve gotten used this level of serving already, so there was no need to get all, “Papa mia!” With its sausage component, it was off limits my plate. However, my borgata claims that it was the meat-infused sauce that made it more appealing and delectable. Too hot for their taste buds though, they wish that in the same milk tea fashion, the level for spiciness could be predetermined by diner. Oh and that shrimps would replace the sausage; after all, doesn’t this dish normally go by the name Shrimp Diablo?

[caption id="attachment_1444" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Fisherman's Catch Pizza"][/caption]

Fisherman’s Catch Pizza, Thin Crust

Blame my less-carbs-is-best mantra for ordering thin crust, when thick crust happens to be the house specialty. What we got was the phyllo-slender crust that would get every male on the planet dizzy with hunger, and with just enough energy to give me the finger.

[caption id="attachment_1443" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="Jalapeno and Butter"][/caption]

The pizzas arrived with 2 bowls of garlic butter and 2 pieces of jalapeno chilis as dip/toppings for the pizza. While these are not enough to alleviate hunger, they at least add to the flavor and cholesterol level, as if the buttered up crust isn’t grease stricken enough.

The pizzas are brushed with what seems to be layers of butter to create that glowing and juicy effect, once served on the table. It’s not enough that we get steaming fresh-from-the-oven pizzas, the shimmering look is just as mandatory for those who want to end up like Super Mario. I’ve always wanted to be Luigi, so I dabbed my pizza slices when no one was looking—busted though once they tidied my plate and uncovered yellow tissue papers. Gross, I know.

Back to the pizza. The Fisherman’s Catch is obviously Papa John’s pizza tribute to the pescatorian with squid, minute shrimps, green pepper and this interestingly named garlic sauce. The mozzarella cheese is rather thickly spread, to my delight, but its suspicious gleam demanded closer inspection—ah yes, it was the garlic butter all along! With the lack of a proper pizza sauce to balance the saltiness (don't bother looking for anchovies because there aren't any), it’s best to call this the salty pizza. Again, I’m not being creative anymore since. After all, this one ain’t a catch.

[caption id="attachment_1445" align="aligncenter" width="614" caption="All Meats Pizza"][/caption]

All Meats Pizza, Thick Crust

This pizza happens to be the anti-thesis of the Fisherman’s Catch in Phyllo-butter crust. The meat content is enough to battle out even the deepest of all hungers, while the hand tossed crust is baked golden but not glistening with butter. While I never felt the temptation to pluck a piece of pepperoni—which is bad manners, by the way—I watched in awe as the meat eating bunch ate in peace and harmony. No complaints about bread rolls or dripping grease, just pure carnivorous dining bliss.

As we finished our meal, it was gratifying to know that there was a chance of leaving the place with all our limbs intact. They stuffed us silly though—all those carb dishes and only a few strips of green pepper I could call my vegetable serving. At least I was alive and breathing, and only needed a cup of tea to regain my slumbering arteries.

While the hungry and very hungry will definitely come back for more dough-oriented dishes and crusts, there are those who could do with less grease (me!) and bigger pasta servings (me!).

What I would like to now though is: How does Papa John stay slim, with all that butter in his pantry? 

I’m dying to know.