We are in Manila, in a quarter called Malate, and don’t ask me where that exactly is, cause after two days in this mega city it could have been anywhere. I can’t really get a picture of how to define this metropole.
We go dining out and it’s only a stone throw from our hotel pensionne Malate to the nearest restaurant Cafe Havanna, a Cuban bar-restaurant. It turns out to be a historic night as it is here where we come at the idea to start this blog with main topic food, beverages, entertainment and everything you can consume in a lifetime.
The menu is a mystery to me as I don’t speak Spanish, but luckily Jay is a bit better skilled in this language. The hot starters are called Tapas Calientes, and with my travelers experience I recognize Gambas Fritos as fried shrimps. When it’s in front of me I find out that the shrimps are crispy fried on a bed of green chillies and yes, hot they are. I love it!
Jay is more adventurous and let himself serve Almejias al Ajillo, fresh clams still in the shells baked in garlic butter, which he slurps out of the shells. Although we just decided to share our culinary experiences with the rest of the world, we forgot to take pictures of the dishes, probably because we are temporarily in food heaven. Both starters are wonderful. It’s unexpected, and the best ones we have eaten so far this trip through the Philippines.
While we flush away the last clams and gambas with the national San Miguel beer, the mains are being served. Let me tell something here about the ambience. We are sitting in a Cuban restaurant, red colors dominate and Caribean music arrives through the archways and fills the establishment. At the wall many pictures of Cuba, the unavoidable old timers and a drawing of a man looking like Louis Prima, which says nothing to Jay. Actually also not much to me, I remember his face from an old elpee record decades ago. Jay thinks the man looks more like Salvador Dali, based on the thin lined mustache and I guess he might be closer to the truth...
We are sitting at the window with a view on a busy street. Two bimbo’s are drawing our attention at not more then a couple of meters away from us. They move their tongues in a sensual way over their lips, with their heads slightly turned over the shoulders. “They are tranvestites”, says Jay convinced, while turning the green Fettucine with salmon around his fork. “Excellent” he says. I guess he mentions his dish. I have my doubts about the girls, they look too real to me.
I have ordered old clothes, Ropa Vieja in Spanish, a traditional dish consisting out of shredded beef stew in tomato, onions and spices. It’s absolutely great and goes along very well with Moros y Christianos, a Cuban style rice with black beans and fried platanos, which I can identify as green pees. I nearly eat my fingers along with it. Both mains are of great taste and well balanced in spices and vegetables.
The girls have left the scene due to a lack of attention, but suddenly a street kid looks at table height through the window at our food. It feels a bit embarrassing. Maybe he looks every evening to what people eat here. Food he can only dream of. He is not asking for money or anything else, but for a minute he only stares at the plates and how we consume it. That minute takes longer then any minute before.
“Still some space for a dessert?” I ask. Jay is negative. “We can share one”, he suggests, and so it will be. I decide to go for the Banana Republic, cause that's where I am (Cuba!). I like the name more than the description, which reads 'a crusty pastry with Cuban style platanos and vanilla ice'. Better that we have shared it, as it is a pizza size dessert though tasteful without the usual overdose of sugar. Now we can taste the banana flakes on warm pastry, where a couple of vanila ice coups are slowly melting away.
We conclude that this three course meal has a high standard. We have not agreed on a scoring system, but this wonderful satisfying meal will be the measure of all other stuff we eat, together or separated. I would say that all dishes were higher than an eight out of ten. And I am pretty sure that this will not be easy met, especially when realizing that this was not high dining, though rather a simple restaurant. At least we had the feeling of high dining. The line on the back site of the menu gives the best explanation:
Cafe Havana in Manila: Cuban style of cooking is simple in concept but complex in flavor.
Epilogue:
We pay the bill and are heading for the hotel, but suddenly a tropical rain shower hits the streets of Manila. People hide away nervously. “Stop”, says Jay, “It’s the first rain of the year, it is acid rain!” There is no other way than going back in Cafe Havana and hit the bar. I take the last one of six different cocktails, the Yellow Ribbon. The bartender marks a dot at the poster at the bar. It’s the most popular cocktail; all the six cocktails represent a presidents candidate for the upcoming elections in the Philippines. It’s based on pineapple, rum and vodka. It’s good to know that I was able to have my vote in this fantastic 7000+ island archipelago. And Cuba is now favorite for visiting and one day we will to explore its culinary wonders as well. Cheers!
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