I’m a self-confessed foodie, and that goes for my small family and my large clan as well. Years from now, our kids will be reminiscing about this comfort food from this famous restaurant, now a contemporary favorite but years later relegated to mere statistics and happy memories of the palate.
As the world changes, so do our tastes and references, but certain standards remain steadfast, oldies but goodies in so many ways. As a young boy, it was a monumental treat to travel all the way to the famous Aristocrat in then Dewey Boulevard, now Roxas Boulevard with the old folks. Ordering from the menu was grand orchestration of differing opinions, cost comparisons, dissectation of vital ingredients, etc. Would the plateful of dinuguan with four pieces of small puto Biñan be a match for the good old favorite, the honey-barbecued chicken which came with a mound of reddish brown flavored rice and which was then and now an all-time favorite? But let’s not forget the sotanghon guisado that came in a fragrant heap, topped with lots of toasted garlic and green onions and served with a slice of mamon tostado. When you dug into it, the aroma and steam deliciously assaulted your nostrils as you pick your way into a merry mix of chicken and pork slivers and glass noodles. Me–I always stuck to the barbecued spare ribs, juicy slabs that were slightly caramelized and burned on the outside. Inside, all the marbled goodness of pork fat and meat begged to be eaten while hot, lest the pork fat congeals on you. My mother always enjoyed here fresh lumpiang ubod which came in a tandem, the ubod sweet and generously sautéed with a lot of chicken and shrimps, the sauce sweetish and the raw garlic pungent to the nostrils. This always came with their famous gulaman at sago. Of course, when times called for prudence rather than swashbuckling bravado, the "Aristoback" (a carinderia located at the back of Aristocrat with food almost half its price) was a wise second choice.
In my college days, Ma Mon Luk and Little Quiapo were favorite destinations for dates. Little Quiapo boasted of the best halo-halo in town, with old-fashioned spoonfuls of ube and leche flan and the crunchiness of toasted pinipig generously sprinkled on top. Their palabok rivaled those in the Quinta Market where the vendors literally sat you down if you so much as looked at the cauldrons that lined their glass stands. The noodles were the bijon variety, the whole dish saucy with tiny bits of squid, shrimps, pork and chicharon. It was a hearty and tasty meal, and one can see couples in different school uniforms savoring their favorites at student budgets. By week’s end, when allowances run low, ice-cold Cosmos Sarsaparilla (now simply known as Sarsi) and a five-pack hopiang baboy are just as awesome.
Nothing beats the tandem of a hot bowl of mami and siopao as big as a saucer. I would ask for extra asado sauce that went not only into my siopao but went to flavor my mami as well. It wasn’t the best of ambience, even in those days, but you overlooked that happily as you fished out your spoon and fork from the glass of hot water in front of you and you bit into the soft mounds of asado in between spoonfuls of steaming noodle soup.
Even when I was already working, my Ma Mon Luk days were far from over. It was a Saturday night habit, sitting down to a hot bowl of mami and a super asado before hitting the New Frontier Theater in Cubao for the last full show. That or the not-so-glamorous Hong Ning Restaurant which serves the best Shanghai fried rice, albeit a little bit too salty because they used bits of Chinese ham to flavor the rice. Their fried crispy wanton (pinsec frito) was never absent from my table when I was there, and the sweet and sour sauce was the perfect dip. There was of course the standard pata tim, plump and fork-tender, and their greasy lumpiang shanghai. That was more or less the standard after-movies fare, plus an occasional plate of canton.
On special date days, there was Luigi’s, also in Quezon City, that served fresh, sweet lobster tails and tender steaks, or the Italian Village or Monk’s Inn where we had candlelight dinners and carafes of tart wine. Or Alfredo’s at Tomas Morato for their fail-proof steaks. The restaurant is still there, patronized by loyal habitués.
On chicken days, we wound up in Max’s near Roces Avenue where I could devour a whole spring chicken with ease and still whistle a hungry tune. On days when we felt like it, we would bring a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chick, original flavor, for an impromptu picnic at the park followed by frenzied games of two-deep, which inevitably made us hungry again.
I wasn’t yet around during the pre-war Aristocrat days, though my good buddy Tony Sulit was. He claims he was still crawling then, and we would always answer "Sure you were, with a Garand rifle in your arms." But I’m pretty sure Aristocrat, pre or post war, carried on the tradition of good comfort food with unfaltering consistency. The same goes for the other traditional Pinoy favorites like Max’s and Little Quiapo. Sadly, one would be hard put to find a Ma Mon Luk outlet now, and Hong Ning, Luigi’s and Italian Village have folded up their tents. The next generation of COOs or "Children of Owners" would do well to revive the tradition that their parents started, re-kindle the warmth of the hearths that fired the spirit of the guts and fueled many a relationship in not too recent years. Times change but some favorites stubbornly refuse to die.
Mabuhay!!! Be proud to be a Filipino.
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