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Saturday, November 20, 2004
Gone Fundue
J.A. Bacalso dips old memories in earthen pots of melted chocolate. Photographed by Jude Bacalso.
A few minutes after we enter, Studio 23’s Iya Yotoko glides in with her son. They settle into one of the long tables at the far corner of the room, together with other casually-dressed ladies and gentlemen who have come together tonight to surprise a classmate from high school. “They’re all Agustinians,” whispers my friend Ysabel, herself a graduate of the same school. Iya is as showbiz as it gets tonight here at the Old Swiss Inn.
The true star, of course, is the food. The aroma envelops you as you enter and Ysabel grimaces. “Kaka-shower ko lang.” As long as I can remember, I have had the most delicious food adventures with this woman. Just the other day, we had pritong tilapya (her son AJ’s favorite) to a crunchy crisp at Kamayan sa Pala-isdaan in Los Baños, seated on bamboo rafts that floated on a deathly-still fishpond. Tonight, walking a few steps from my suite at the Makati Shangri-la, past the Anya Hindmarchs in Wish, and the Manila Pen fountain, we choose to dine at my college favorite at the Olympia building.
We already know what to order: the beef fondue with a carousel of dips, fruit slices and sauces. It’s a big hit with the 10-year-olds who have joined us.
Monica and Mariah take turns skewering the chunks of beef, dip them into the boiling oil, pause to chat about what tweens swoon over nowadays, and check their cooking. They’re our tasters, and Monica declares that the gravy and the honey-mustard sauce work best. My staple? The fresh corned beef, a meal I have been ordering since 1990. It’s nothing like the plebeian version fresh from the can, shredded into tastelessness. These are boiled chunks served with the cabbage and potatoes they were in the pot with, and a jar of Dijon mustard that’ll sear your nostrils like a swab of wasabi. Want to know a secret? Whenever I have a hankering for real corned beef, I head on to Eddie’s Log Cabin, right next to the Iglesia ni Kristo, where they have a version that, I daresay, tastes even better.
Original Toblerone fondue sounded like a perfect end to the meal. Instead of beef, the trusty waiters let out a plate of marshmallows, banana and apple slices, and sweetbread chunks. The other Iya in the restaurant, another of my foodie mates, dips them in the simmering Swiss chocolate as we get busy planning out the night.
More than a decade into our friendship, there were some new considerations.
Where do we leave the kids? Maan can’t leave her Mariah alone with a sound state of mind, how do they call us if something goes wrong? Kids, the mini bar is off limits, only the water is complimentary (my cheapskate concern)!
Apparently, only the fondue (and the entire meal) is consistently good through the years. Our concerns go beyond whatdoweweartonightwheredowego. But we can always figure something out over a pot of boiling Toblerone.
(November 20, 2004 issue)
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