I first met Noel Silverio in late 2001. I was then shopping around for an executive chef for a new restaurant concept I had thought of, the now-defunct Restaurant 12. I asked for referrals from Henry Canoy, chef patron of Henry’s Freestyle and Cook’s Studio along Boni Ave., in Mandaluyong City.
Over beers and pica-pica, chef Henry pointed to a tall, silver-haired mestizo behind the counter and said, "Take him."
I countered, "Pare, I can’t afford an expat chef."
Henry just laughed and declared, "He’s a Bicolanong tisoy! And trust me, you can’t find a better man for the job."
The job required more than just a chef. In the short three years that I knew him, chef Noel and I became friends – even after he left Restaurant 12, six months after it opened. That’s the kind of guy he was. He held no grudges. In those days, I was often caught between him and the restaurant manager, who were always about to gouge each other’s eyes out due to some disagreement. However, at the end of the day, he would shake hands with his foe and invite him out for some beers.
Noel taught me many things, both professionally and personally. He treated everyone at work equally, from the kitchen stewards to the restaurant manager, from ordinary walk-in customers to high-society patrons. He didn’t make any distinctions. He would hang out with the staff after hours and became good friends with them. He worked alongside them and made them feel part of a team, and not just his subordinates. He even washed a few dishes himself, saying "You don’t get to start cooking in New York unless you’ve gone through dishwashing duty."
Any chef will say that he loves to cook. Noel, on the other hand, would say that he loved to cook for people, especially after they told him what they felt like eating that day. I remember one late evening when a society matron asked if he could prepare something that wasn’t French, since she had just flown in from Paris. They were craving for Sugi, but it was already past the Japanese restaurant’s operating hours. Noel offered to cook her some Japanese food – preparing an assortment of sushi at that – and she was pleased.
That was Noel’s charm. He knew how to make people feel good and important. This was most effective on women though, young or old, rich or poor, pretty or plain. I was always impressed with how he could turn on the charm and make women smile. It even helped the business, since all these women would come to the restaurant just to watch him cook, which was possible, thanks to our open-kitchen setup.
Last Wednesday, July 28, at around 6:30 a.m., we lost a great chef and a good friend, when Noel Silverio died of a massive heart attack at the young age of 45. He was working at the US Embassy Commissary, where he was last employed, when it happened.
At his wake at Santuario de San Antonio, fellow chefs helped out by sending food for the friends and family who came to see Noel for the last time. It was a tribute from his friends from the industry: Henry Canoy, Martin Bräcker of Nuvo, Paeng and Gabriel Lim Soong of North Park, Gene Gonzalez of Café Ysabel, Ed Quimson of Chef Ed’s, Rolando Laudico of Chef Laudico Culinary Services, Marlo Benitez of Mario’s Kitchen, Jessie Sincioco of Le Soufflé and the US Embassy Commissary. That’s how Noel would’ve wanted it – making sure everyone had enough to eat, and drink, and that everyone was merry.
Thanks, Noel, for a great time. We will miss you, pare. Keep the beers cold for us while you’re up there.