The soulful plate

In all my years of traveling, eating, tasting, cooking and discussing with chefs, I have learned that there is one important ingredient that cannot be bought but can definitely be felt in a dish:  soul. The best food moments I’ve ever had, whether it be sitting at a table with starched linens and blindingly polished silverware in Paris or squatting on grimy stools roadside in a back alley of Hanoi or leaning against the pier with a cool Pacific breeze on my face at the Ferry Building in San Francisco — they all have one thing in common: the food was made with love and intent. It had a story to tell, it had purpose and meaning, not only for the diner but also for the one who made it. It came from the heart and those flavors are the ones that you cannot fake but that you can really sink your teeth into.

I have always been an honest food writer. If I don’t enjoy a meal I simply won’t write about it and, where welcome, will give my sincere, balanced criticism directly to the chef or restaurant because ultimately I want them to be better. I want to have more places to eat in and not force them to shut down because they had an off day.

I have also become more and more confident in knowing what I like and at the same time being able to distinguish the difference between technique, execution, flavor, creativity and trends. I can frankly say that, “Hey! This might not be my cup of tea, but for what it is supposed to be, it’s really good.”

As a food writer, I believe it is crucial to be able to take those elements apart and not rely solely on your subjective opinion. There are, however, times when — because you have a personal connection or previous experience with the chef and his cooking — it is difficult to do otherwise.

Not too long ago, I was invited to a special dinner at Vask where it wasn’t my cup of tea. And, in my usual fashion, because chef Chele Gonzalez had asked for my opinion, I calmly explained why. I felt that while all the usual elements were there, there was no soul. You see, I met chef Chele when he first arrived in Manila some years ago, full of energy and excitement. Coming to Asia was a big move. His food was surprising, his eyes behind those dark-rimmed glasses were always brimming with ideas and even when he later opened Vask, it was passion that drove his creations. But, as with most people in the food industry, the business and logistics side gets to you. It bogs down creativity. Who wants to think about food cost, wastage, and inventory? It’s a rat race to run a restaurant.

Last week I got a call from him inviting me to try his new menu at the Gallery — the fine dining, degustation area of Vask. On the phone alone I could hear the giddiness in his voice, talking about the different flavors from his recent trips that he infused into it, about a conscious direction to move towards more local produce. When we got there for dinner, I have to say that the meal was a shining mirror of that passion and drive, and one of the most enjoyable I’ve had in Manila recently.

First off, out of 13 courses — not counting the amuse-bouches and petits fours — only two had foie gras (one of which was more of a condiment) and one had barely a hint of truffle oil. Wait. Don’t get me wrong. This is not a complaint! Far from it! I am frankly so sick and tired of seeing that fancy-schmancy menu that has foie gras, truffle, Chilean sea bass, scallops, and Wagyu all over it.  Establishments try to justify high prices by hiding behind rich, imported ingredients. Conversely it wasn’t a menu that hid behind too many molecular and modernist techniques either; these were used poignantly to enhance beautiful produce. I was overjoyed to see a menu that had the guts to use quite a bit of locally sourced ingredients, pushing forward creativity, innovation and taste. I also loved the fact that almost a third of the menu is built around fresh, bright flavors and aromas.

There’s a clear sense of west meets east. An explorer (Magellan? Chele?) who hasn’t just arrived but has finally made this new land his home — comfortable in his new surroundings, confident in mixing elements of his past and present. Take the dish called “Tuna Pod,” one of my personal favorites — a beautiful blend of the Mediterranean with pungent Kalamata olives, the bridging herb of basil and the distinctly Asian lemongrass ice cream. A journey across the globe in one harmonious bite. I could easily come back for more of that alone. It’s a recurring motif that comes across often throughout the meal rather seamlessly. Earl Grey, Mirin-pickled plum and grilled foie gras. Beets, ginger and fried cilantro roots to accompany a grilled Wagyu. Nutmeg, cardamom and truffle; chocolate, strawberry, oregano and mangosteen — each dish, each combination explained with fluttering excitement by the chef. There’s a personal story to tell behind each element, that one special ingredient that cannot be bought:  soul.

There are, however, two dishes that I feel truly bare the current state of his soul: the “Ravine” and the “Atlantic.” Obviously smitten by his adopted new home of the Philippines, the two dishes pay homage to those sentiments.

“I want to incorporate more and more local ingredients and flavors, show the people how beautiful they can be. It’s all about presentation, sophistication and refinement,” he shares. “Look at this dish,” he explains about the Ravine. “It’s beautiful local crab, avocados in season, young coconut and we place this fresh buko juice in a fancy container and people go, ‘Wow!’ When in fact it’s just buko juice.”

I understand the sentiment because often, we Filipinos with our residual colonial mentality take our lovely produce for granted. The Atlantic tasted distinctly Filipino. Undertones of patis and calamansi done in a way that’s refined enough so that both Filipinos and foreigners alike would appreciate. Another one I would go back for. It’s here he’s made the message clear. That in his heart resides the pearl of the orient.

If you’d like to try your hand at making the Ravine at home, chef Chele has very kindly shared the recipe with us. For more photos of the other dishes and the complete menu of the dinner, please visit www.thegypsetters.net. For more information and reservations, contact Vask, on the fifth floor of 11th Avenue corner 39th Street, Bonifacio Global City, tel. nos. 217-6563 and 0917-806-5292.

RAVINE

Avocado Cream

(10 pax)

140 g avocado

2 ml lemon juice

10 ml cream

10 ml milk

5 g cilantro

Peel and cut into small sizes the avocado. Blanch cilantro leaves. Put all together in a bowl and blend.

 Pumpkin Pebbles

(25 orders)

700 g pumpkin juice

130 ml milk

75 ml cream

80 g powdered milk

50 g glucose

10 ml patis

Heat glucose, milk and cream and half of the pumpkin juice. In another bowl mix powdered milk and the remaining pumpkin juice. Add the heated mixture to the bowl. Add patis and salt.

Put in a siphon with 2 charges. Put liquid nitrogen in a bowl and put pumpkin foam in the bowl and crush with a spoon, making small rocks or powder.

 Crab Meat and Aligue

1 kg crabs alimasag

1 kg blue crab

Put a pot with water, heat up to 70 C. When the water is 70 C, turn off the heat and add the blue crab. Do the same for the other crab.

Cover for 1hr 45mins and set aside. After peeling the blue crabs and getting the meat, separate the meat of the body and claw. The alimasag is more for the aligue. Clean crab, take aligue and put in separate container.

 Aligue Manzanilla

50 g aligue

8 ml Manzanilla wine

Mix all ingredients together.

 Plating:

1 g micro cilantro

15 ml buko juice

2 g buko meat

Put the avocado cream on the bottom of the dish, put the crabmeat on top, then the buko flesh. Put pumpkin pebbles on top and the micro cilantro. When served, put buko juice on the plate.