dine•o•crat

The French Symbolist poet Paul Verlaine wrote in verse of his dream lover as someone who is "never quite the same ... nor wholly different" ( " Mon rêve familier "). A cheese expert from France, interviewed by Jeffrey Steingarten , used the same line to describe Camembert , the great and legendary unpasteurized raw-milk cheese. He used it to describe its complexity, how the cheese would taste a bit different each time, but somehow the quality of it is also the same as you might remember it. I thought the same might apply to rice porridge, or "lugaw" in Tagalog, "lelut" in Kapampangan. Sure it's sometimes bland, but there are so many varieties and regional differences that a version of this ubiquitous and satisfying comfort food is bound to hit your Proustian g-spot. The right one, for me, releases an orgasmic torrent of memories. But even the blandest lugaw provides enough of a quickie, even as Chinese congee, because the texture and sme...

I first read about Terry Selection , a Spanish restaurant and gourmet deli, in a book called " Manila's Best Kept Restaurant Secrets ." At the time, I had just moved to Manila and was looking for a variety of restaurants that served international cuisine, including Spanish. I had already eaten at a Spanish restaurant in Quezon City (what I call the country's entertainment hub) and had been somewhat disappointed. Terry's, owned by Juan Carlos de Terry, seemed promising enough. I had my first meal there recently. It's probably too early to write a full review, but here's a peek at the food I had. The meal was satisfying, if a bit heavy. The main plate was a gamey Rioja-braised oxtail, a taste which I normally shun, but it seemed appropriate for the night and the glass of cabernet-tempranillo blend wine I had with it--tannic and fruity--complemented the dish well. I went to the branch in Makati on Pasong Tamo, which I think is the original one, though there a...

Buffets were my nightmares. Seriously. My first experiences of them were back in the late 80's, in the form of American all-you-can-eat chains and the Vegas strip. Thoughts of these fluorescent-bathed establishments deliver to my mind plates of dark-edged lettuce, grease-laden meatballs and all-you-can-eat spaghetti with dubious meat sauce. Little did I know back then that these were merely temporary outposts for the 250-pound men and women on the express road to 500 pounds. But even Vegas has upped the ante of dining, upgrading its hotels to dizzyingly ostentatious luxury and, consequently its amenities to match, including its buffets and more formal sit-down restaurants. When I went back to Manila for good, one of the first places my family took me to was the strikingly modern Sofitel Manila , which houses the Spiral buffet restaurant (and a small casino). After several more visits, my nightmares, I could honestly say, are gone. Even after having eaten at the new-Vegas buffets, ...

I'm new here in Manila, having moved back after 22 years of being away, so I've had limited experiences with the wine scene. I've had enough encounters with it, however, to give it an initial assessment of moribund, at least compared to what I had access to in California. In my first month here, I visited several wine and liquor places in Quezon City, the entertainment hub of the Philippines. Wines were displayed in sweltering heat, in stores with no air-conditioning, unless you count an oscillating fan sadly recirculating the air as A/C. Blame it on the country's status as a developing economy. Or blame it on the lack of a wine-drinking community. Or on the fact that this is a beer-drinking culture schizophrenically married to a very Catholic view of the world. In one of the very first fine-dining establishments I visited with a decent wine list, my server turned out to be a teetotaler, so I couldn't really ask her for a wine recommendation for my ribeye. "Sir...

Aubergine , the French restaurant in Bonifacio Global City , is the kind of fine dining place that attracts certain food writers if only for its location. Above a McDonald's in what is basically a strip mall, it could be missed if you were merely driving around or were distracted by the smell of French fries. Or you might detect it in the corner of your eye on the way to St. Luke's Medical Center across the street or as you're loading your car with hardware from the Home Depot kitty-corner to it. It's strangely situated enough to provide an opening paragraph for a writer desperate for an angle. But its quirk ends with its exterior. Once you enter its doors, the establishment's darkly modern interior announces the restaurant's mission as a purveyor of serious cuisine or that its designer is absolutely in love with dark wood. The slightly surly or merely baffled maitre d' offered me a seat immediately after I declared I was dining alone. I didn't even ...