Thrilla From Manila

At Rekados on Main Street, Filipino cuisine is given a decidedly modern makeover.

By Joie Alvaro Kent

FRIDAY NIGHT, 8 P.M. The understated room is abuzz with conversation and the subtle downbeat of lounge music. Glass pendant lights filled with twisted aluminum wire hover midair. Zebra wood tables are ringed with high-backed leather chairs, all dark wood accents interspersed with hits of red. Diners unwind over cocktails and shared small-plates nosh. Sound familiar? Maybe, but here the English conversations are interspersed with Tagalog chatter, every third song on the playlist is Filipino and the restaurant patrons are nibbling on lumpia shanghai instead of chicken wings. Rekados has a stylish modern confidence, and even an expat like me would be hard-pressed to guess that Philippine cuisine is the culinary platform at such an upscale venue.

Many of my earliest memories are food-centric: standing in my grandparents’ orchard as a four-year-old, juice dripping down my chin as I bite into the succulent flesh of a musky, tree-ripened mango; revelling in our kitchen’s sweet smell as a batch of my Lola’s (Grandmother’s) guava jam simmers on the stove; my mouth watering at the fragrant aroma of roasting corn on an early-evening pedicab ride through darkening city streets.

Filipino food is a gastronomic portrait of Philippine history, a mélange of the indigenous with an array of exotic flavours brought by conquerors, traders and settlers. Malaysian, Indonesian, Chinese, Indian, Spanish and American influences have all shaped this country’s cuisine. The Philippines is an archipelago of more than 7,100 islands, and native ingredients and recipes vary from region to region. Dominant flavours are threefold: salty, which comes largely from condiments like soy sauce, bagoong (salty, fermented shrimp paste) and patis (fish sauce); sweet; and sour, through the use of vinegar (cane, rice or palm), tamarind and calamansi (like a cross between lemon and lime with a hint of orange). Sautéed, braised and stewed dishes served over rice are prevalent, as is inihaw (barbecue). Bite-sized chunks and tender braised meats render knives unnecessary—Filipinos eat with forks and spoons.

Filipino food in restaurants and cafés is usually served “family-style,” and the few restaurants in Vancouver have been strictly turo-turo, as you “point point” to your food items of choice. Many venues have come and gone over the years, but Goldilocks on Broadway and Josephine’s on Main are standards among newcomers like Sandy’s Cuisine and Cucina Manila. Tables are precious commodities, and customers are packed elbow-to-elbow during prime dining hours. Chalkboard menus are indecipherable to non-Tagalog speakers, and buffet offerings cater to the expat’s palate with little accommodation for newbies. Perhaps that’s why Vancouver’s food cognoscenti have shied away from Filipino food, leaving it hidden in the city’s ethnic dining terrain. Until now.

Brothers-in-law Larry Elima and Charlie Dizon lamented the absence of upscale Filipino restaurants in Vancouver, rooms a step (or two) above those serving steam-table fare. Philippine cuisine in Vancouver, says Dizon, “hadn’t evolved beyond the tried and true formula of a mom-and-pop family operation.” Elima adds, “Filipino entrepreneurs here don’t want to take risks. If what they’re doing brings in regular customers, they won’t move past that.” Together with Dizon’s wife, Pinky (who is Elima’s sister), they formed a small weekend catering company in 1999. They quickly became popular in the Filipino community, but their bigger goals were twofold: to introduce non-Filipinos to a new ethnic flavour palette, and to reacquaint second-generation Pinoys with traditional culture and cuisine. When Rekados opened its doors in July, it was the culmination of six years of brainstorming.

With its minimalist retro vibe, Rekados is more reminiscent of a Cactus Club than a barangay carinderia (neighbourhood hole-in-the-wall eatery). This aesthetic offers a backdrop for what Chef Dizon dubs “sexy Filipino food,” a marriage of traditional dishes with New World presentation. “This is not,” he adds, “Filipino fusion or faddish food.” Rekados means ingredients in Tagalog, and Dizon strives to “trust the ingredients and their natural flavours” without compromising the recipes of his ethnic heritage. And here’s where Dizon’s culinary pedigree shines. He cut his teeth at a French restaurant in the Philippines and worked in a number of Vancouver kitchens, most recently as sous-chef at the Arbutus Club. With flavour sensibilities and plating and presentation skills honed in fine-dining establishments, he’s elevated Philippine cuisine well beyond the “more is more” approach to family-style service.

Neophytes need not worry—servers helpfully guide the uninitiated. Start with sweet kamote fries with hot banana ketchup and calamansi mayo ($4.95), or delicately battered calamares sprinkled with minced red onion and accompanied by cilantro-garlic aïoli for dipping ($6.95). Barbecue Manila ($2.50 each) is skewers of chicken and pork in a traditional tangy, slightly sweet marinade. Top of the small plates list is tokwa’t tokwa ($4.95), deep-fried tofu served in a soy-chili sauce and sprinkled with shallots and toasted garlic.

As for serious eating, the “deconstructed” crispy pata ($9.95) is a pork lover’s dream: hocks slow roasted and then crisp-fried to a crackling crunch, best sprinkled with garlic-and-chili-infused cane vinegar. Chinese influences are evident in the selection of stir-fried noodles known as pancit. Skip the palabok “malabon-style” ($8.95)—even my Filipino palate was overwhelmed by tinapa (smoked fish)—and sample the pancit bihon instead ($8.95). Think of it as everything-but-the-kitchen-sink chow mein: rice stick noodles tossed with sliced carrots and celery, shrimp, pork and Chinese sausage. Hotpot is another dish of Chinese origin; at Rekados, it’s served in a clay pot over a cast-iron burner. Bulalo batangas ($10.95), named after the southwestern province on the island of Luzon, simmers tender beef shank with leeks, bok choy and cabbage in a delicate annatto (achiote) broth subtly flavoured with tamarind leaves.

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