Tastes Like Home

"Come in, sit down," Teak’s chef patron Ed Quimson greets me as I enter the restaurant. "I can talk to you later, just eat first." And then he smiles, with the easy confident grin of someone who is exceedingly good at what he does, and is very aware of it. Chef Ed intends, apparently, to let his food do the talking, and judging from the smells that emanate from a nearby table, it is a conversation to look forward to. He whispers instructions to our waiter, and then moves on to greet a few other guests.

It takes a while to soak up the sights and sounds of the small restaurant in the Power Plant mall in Rockwell, Makati. The place seems modern and subdued, with ambient bossa nova piping in softly from overhead speakers and dark wood wall panels with striped pattern accents. Bamboo curtains set a nice backdrop against dark, wooden furniture. The interior resembles some sort of ultra-modern rest house away from the city, rich and comfortable, chicly sophisticated, but welcoming instead of snobbish.

Those who wish to dine al fresco can have several tables outside, along the Rockwell restaurant strip.

One side of the place is dominated by an open kitchen, separated from the rest of the restaurant by clear glass panels. Inside, one could see the bustle of a kitchen in high gear: light bouncing off pots and pans as the staff goes through a flurry of frying, roasting, saucing and glazing. A waiter emerges, bearing a salad plate, and the meal begins.

It is a newly-launched menu, it turns out, and several new dishes have been introduced to the bar and bistro. Here is Jackie’s Favorite, a salad of mixed greens with ripe mango slices and shrimp with pesto, covered by a light blanket of parmesan cheese. Even those who aren’t overly fond of salads would be impressed by the dish, as the light, biting herb flavor of the pesto goes especially well with the heavier, more solid shrimp, and the crunchiness of the fresh greens provides a background for the flavors of herb, seafood and cheese to mingle. The dish’s namesake, it turns out, is Jackie Ejercito-Lopez, wife of the bistro’s owner Beaver Lopez and a fan of Chef Ed’s creations.

The salad is quickly followed by Carnitas Ravioli, a fried version of the Italian dish that makes it more like the local empanada: the fried pasta is wrapped around a meaty ground beef center, with tomatoes and garlic. It is slightly spicy, but diners can choose to either mute the spiciness with a creamy garlic mayonnaise dip, or complement it with a salsa of mangoes, tomatoes and onions– both are served with the ravioli.

Chicken ala Teak presents a novel concept: a chicken breast is stuffed with chorizos, and served with a light brown sauce made of pureed pepper. The pepper sauce gives the white meat a smooth and subtly warm taste that eventually gives way to the more distinctive spiciness of the slices of traditional Spanish sausage inside. Served with an omelet cube to soak up the flavorful sauce, the dish is an interesting mixture of differing flavors and textures.

This also holds true for the fish that follows soon afterwards, Lapulapu Meuniere, served with carrot strings with spinach with a white sauce. Here, it is a creamy flavor that complements the smoky grilled taste of the seafood, with the lapulapu’s inherent softness easily absorbing and carrying the flavors.

When dessert finally comes around, it is toasted bread and cinnamon with saba, all covered with a heavy caramel sauce. It is a surprisingly good dessert for something so simple–it could almost be something one would whip up in one’s own kitchen, a pleasurable (and guilt-laden) sugar overload. In Teak, it is served with whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate sauce. It’s called the Doreen, a tribute to chef Ed’s friend and mentor, food writer Doreen Fernandez.

When I remark on the comfortable hominess of the dessert, Quimson smiles. "That’s the approach I took with this restaurant’s menu," he explains. "Everything here is comfort food. I wanted a place where I could make the stuff that not only the guests want to eat, but things I like to eat too, at home. And, as you can see," he motions to his ample frame, "I love to eat." He laughs.

I keep the food here as simple as I can," he continues. "When I was just starting out (as a chef), I wanted to make dishes that were more exotic, more far out. Then, eventually, you realize that the best dishes are the simpler ones."

As an example, he points out an entry in the menu called Don Manolo’s Sandwich. It is, basically, just slices of tenderloin on bread, with pepper and salt, served with potatoes on the side. But, according to the chef, it’s a popular dish. "It’s just the salt," he explains. "It’s Fleur Des Lis salt, imported from France, but it’s like no other salt you’ve tasted. It’s called Don Manolo’s because Manuel Lopez Sr. loves it." Chef Ed calls a waiter over and asks for a small sample of the salt in question.

When it arrives, it looks like rough rock salt, but just a grain or two, upon tasting, makes good on his claim. The saltiness is smooth, and leaves an almost sweet aftertaste. The salt is subtle, not overpoweringly sharp, and on tenderloin I imagine it would mingle superbly with the juiciness of the meat. He amusedly watches my reaction, and he himself takes a grain or two of the stuff. "It’s almost like MSG," he says, chewing thoughtfully, "but not as bad for you."

When asked about a particularly strange-sounding menu entry, he smiles. I am pointing at something called Tinapa, Kesong Puti and Chicharon Pizza. "It doesn’t sound very likely, does it?" he asks. "You take these simple things that are good by themselves. And, when you think about it, those things put together would taste good. There’s another dish here like that, it’s a pasta with tinapa and dill. Think about it." I take a moment to consider, and imagine the combination of the tastes. I have to agree, it does sound kind of good.

"That’s how I come up with my dishes," says Chef Ed. "I’ve gotten to a point where I can think of an ingredient, and its exact taste, and then mentally mix it with other ingredients: ‘This would be good with that.’ Or ‘maybe if I add something else, I can add a new flavor.’ It just comes with experience. That way, most of the experimentation goes on in my head. If I know I can make whatever I think of taste good, I can push for it. And the simpler the concept, the more likely it’ll taste good."

And the results of this process are all in the menu. "I like it here," Quimson says. "Beaver [Lopez] has offered me Teak as my home away from home. Here, I’m free to cook whatever I want, to make whatever I want." A passing guest then stops to say hi to Quimson–one of the faithful regulars, judging from the familiarity with which the two speak to each other.

The guest leaves, and Chef Ed leans back, smiling, obviously at ease with the fruits of his labor and his restaurant.

And why wouldn’t he be comfortable? After all, he’s home.