Zen and now
May 20, 2004 | 12:00am
One cuisine that I thought will not appeal to the Kapampangan palate is Japanese food. We Pampangos are carnivorous by nature, with pork as our favorite. Not that we are allergic to seafood, but being a landlocked province, it is considered expensive, a special-occasion food, even though it is now readily available in our wet markets.
Lacking a sea coast, Pampangos traditionally looked to its fertile land and its freshwater from the Rio Grande de Pampanga for sustenance. Generations have subsisted on plenty of homegrown and oft wild-gathered food, with kamarù (mole crickets), tugak (frogs), bulig (mudfish), itu (catfish), ulàng (crayfish), and dumarà (mallard ducks) as staples. And natural foodies that we are, we have perfected our pork dishes of kilayin (similar to Ilocano igadó), menudo, begucan babi (binagoongang baboy), paksiw na pata, kare-kare, tidtad babi (dinuguan), sisig, and chicharon. And in the days before refrigerators, our forebears expertly preserved meats, like pindang damulag (carabeef), beef tapa, pindang babi (tocino), and longganisa. There’s an almost cult following for fermented sauces, like balo-balo (rice with shrimps), burong asan (rice with freshwater fish, like dalag, tilapia or hito), and burong talangkâ.
Although Pampangos generally love to eat their own food (Who doesn’t?), we have an adventurous palate by nature. We’d eat almost everything that crawls, squirms, swims, or flies. We keep an open mind (and mouth!) and try anything new. Fear factor is never in our vocabulary.
The point I’m driving at is Japanese and Pampango food are worlds apart. Japanese cuisine has an almost ascetic, Zen-like quality to it. The natural clean taste of whatever fresh ingredient is at hand is enhanced rather than altered, while Pampango food is rich, strong tasting, sometimes malodorous and cholesterol-laden.
Being surrounded by seas that are rich in marine life, the Japanese have made its bounties a vital part of their diet. Although poultry and meat are also eaten, they are less important than seafood. (Trivia: Did you know that until the late seventh century, meat was commonly consumed in Japan? But as Buddhism became an important force in the country, meat was prohibited in the eighth century and this led to the start of the Japanese obsession with sashimi and sushi.)
This is probably the reason why, until recently, we never had a good and decent Japanese restaurant in Angeles City. Entrepreneurs thought there wasn’t a market for it. People with an adventurous palate like us needed to drive all the way to Manila to have authentic Japanese food. That was until Zen Restaurant in Makati dared open a branch at the Mimosa Leisure Estate in Clark Field sometime last year.
The Zen in Clark is housed in a detached old wooden bungalow under the canopy of century-old acacia trees, unlike its main branch, which is located at Glorietta 4. Much of the original white exterior structure has been retained to preserve the pre-war era look. It is airy and bright, quite the opposite of its main branch, making it a favorite for families on a Sunday lunch out. Japanese paper lanterns light the main dining area and several alcoves around the verandah, while the owner’s Japanese collectibles adorn the walls: A kimono, handpainted kites, paddles, and dolls.
Of the many times we would eat there, the place was always full. We’d bump into familiar cabalen faces, or sit next to Japanese and Korean expatriates working in Clark Field or a busload of their compatriots visiting for a weekend of golf in Mimosa.
Perusing Zen’s menu, one would see the usual Japanese dishes most Filipino diners are familiar with: Sashimi, sushi, tempura, teppanyaki, ramen, and the like. Of those we’ve tried during our several visits, the dishes are consistently good.
However, on our last visit, Mary Ann and I tried its new dishes, some so un-Japanese in taste but which fit into the Japanese bento box snugly with their presentation. The idea was to have a meal of just appetizers, much like in a tapas bar.
The first dish we tried that evening was ika natto, or fermented soybeans with raw squid. Natto is a favorite condiment of the Japanese, which they love to have with plain rice and grilled fish. Since it is fermented, it has a rich cheese-like flavor, has a very slimy and sticky consistency and emits a strong odor that is not appreciated by everyone. It is probably the closest one can get to our burong asan. It is an acquired taste after all. Actually, we ordered a saba shioyaki (grilled mackerel) to go with it, and they went together well.
Then came chugokofu hiyayaku, three pieces of silken tofu topped with chopped century egg and grated ginger. The black century egg is always associated with Chinese cuisine, yet it blends so well with the tofu and ginger. Its soya-based sauce was on the salty side, though. Perhaps a lighter tempura dipping sauce would have matched the dish better and would have given it a more Japanese-y flavor.
To accompany our degustacion, we each requested a cup of soup, not the usual miso, but the chicken broth they serve with ramen and some tanuki (tempura crumbs) sprinkled on top of it (reminiscent of the Chinese crispy popped rice soup.) It’s a nice tasting clear broth to wash down food with, leaving your palate clean for the next assault. Of course, a very cold light beer on the side helped, too.
A gyu tataki of seared beef followed. The almost raw thin slices of beef are much like the Italian carpaccio, but the difference is in the dipping sauce. The creamy sesame sauce is the same used in shabu-shabu. This is not for the squeamish who like their beef well done.
What followed next was something so un-Japanese. Though it looked like a rolled sushi, the Continental Maki is stuffed with crispy bacon, ripe mango, cucumber and topped with Italian pesto (basil and olive oil paste.) Somehow the combination of the salty crisp bacon strip, sweet-sourness of the supple mango, and the crunchiness of the cucumber made a good counterpoint to the blandness of the vinegared rice, while the pesto added an unexpected twang to it.
For our last dish, we had the dotenabe, a hot pot of fresh oysters and vegetables simmered in miso soup. This dish from Hiroshima is called "sand bank" because the casserole is first lined with a thin layer of miso before the other ingredients are introduced. The rich broth is made richer as one gets a bite of the succulent oysters oozing with their natural juices that are redolent of the sea. It was a fitting final dish to remember by.
While on a trip to the north this summer, or on a weekend stay of fun and golf at Mimosa or Fontana resorts, try Zen Restaurant. It’s worth the visit.
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