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Thursday, March 30, 2006
Magsaysay: Ole, Olio!
By Jo Magsaysay
Whatever
The sabbatical cleansed my body and soul from sinful pleasures. Starving the flesh and spirit of the debaucheries of good. Drink and chatter.
Just when I was beginning to sprout angel wings and grow a halo along comes a sweet siren song, a soft whisper of temptation that completely zapped up my good intentions. Oh, that this too solid flesh would melt to die for! And yet again to diet for an invitation to lunch at OIio!
*****
One should not resort to vulgar hype as others do, but summon the simple pleasure of fine dining as Anna Conejero did in her own graphic style…"I’m not much for eating", our hostess Girlie Lim confesses as she forks a leafy green arugula…"I just like salads"…Small wonder Dr. Maning Lim’s better half retains the fragile tenderness of her girlhood. So there, on the white linen tablecloth, colorful platters of crinkled lolorosso, pungent arugula greens, tender porcini mushrooms, buffalo tomatoes, and generous scoops of healthy mozzarella dribbled with a dressing, not quite sour, not quite sweet but a perfect tongue teaser to whet the appetite for the oncoming antipasto. Plump scallops in a cream sauce beurre blanc with a sprinkle of caviar so good, Jaime Picornell and Nestor Alonso promptly swabbed the platter squeaky clean with their toast. In another platter, a merry mix of oysters, with a dollop of foie gras, a bit of garlic and cheese, a sizzling coat of mozzarella, a daub of caviar and wedges of lemon for squeezing.
*****
Having served its reason for being, appetites sharpened, the antipasto made way for the entree, our individual choices. Living up to its name, Olio has a marvelous miscellany of dishes, a glorious medley of tastes and textures of fish and shells, of meats and poultry to be grilled, sautéed, steamed, fricass’d, roasted, boiled, chopped, sliced or minced, kissed with spices, drenched in olive oil, coated with light sauce, your call, your choice.
*****
To assuage a guilt-ridden conscience over my easy surrender to the enticement of food and in deference to the season, I chose the Lenten dish of Bacalao remembering the unforgettable and unparalleled Spanish favorite dish that Lulu Aboitiz made, simmering in virgin oil for hours and hours in an earthenware pot.
Jimmy P. opted for baked salmon, an alternative to his usual luncheon fare – a Spartan bowl of soup and a cup of yoghurt. Chinggay U. loves pasta and everything Italian picked penne. Looking like a refugee from Pakistan (actually more like Italian movie star Lollobrigida someone had told her), she had a bandana wrapped around her head to cover a nasty wound that took 12 stitches to close that she got from falling in a dead faint in her favorite bank. Delia Jurado sat too far down the end of the long table across Graphic Arts Anna and Michele, I couldn't see what she had but she seemed to relish and enjoy it, must have been an Olio mix of prawns and tenderloin steak.
Richard Ramos had baby back ribs and a muttered rib-tickler about a new glossy being like a beautifully made-up girl with nothing in between. Nestor A. had Rockefeller oysters and being my favorite technocrat, I dare not argue with him about food because he, as Girlie says, is a walking encyclopedia. With information technology at the palm of his hand, Nestor becomes a know-it-all about how many wives, concubines and children a certain potentate is tagging along for the Summit, about what a scalawag milked trusting colleagues and he probably can tell you whether a bat is a bird or a beast!
*****
Power lunches at the Olio pack a wallop and already, young professionals are discovering that hearty, tasty, man-sized lunches are surprisingly affordable.
The powerhouse in the kitchen is Chef Luis whose culinary expertise speaks for itself in every marvelous concoction that comes out of the kitchen. Heart and soul of Olio is Gladys, "my daughter", Girlie says with understandable pride.
No, Gladys has not gone to any fancy school abroad to take a course in culinary arts but I believe she is one-up better than most "cuisinary" artists because she has a natural talent for entrepreneurship coupled with cultivated taste buds!!!
She has a judicious instinct for what’s good for business and what’s good to eat that’s good for your pocket. I regret I did not get to meet this young entrepreneur, she was in Manila for one of her taste-treats as she does when she haunts all the eating paces abroad from the 5-star Michelin guide for restaurants to the downscale bistro, trattorias and delis.
Her educated tongue tell her whether it’s mustard or dill mixed with the sauce.
Her latest foray in Manila was a newly-opened, much-touted resto that serves hamburger caviar. That’s nouvelle cuisine that sounds yuck! However, it’s amazingly politic – a mix of the proletarian and aristocratic. Should be great! Try anything once!
*****
Wanted: Dead or Alive! By order of U.S. Deputy Marshal E.R.W. for the grand re-opening of Eddie’s Log Cabin. Dawgonne it, pardner! Most of us have long since been dead and gone and this ol grey mare ain’t what she used to be but still she remembers Eddie’s Log Cabin as the watering hole where everybody wanted to be seen to be really "in". When the place was jumpin’ jimminny jive stomping their feet, clapping their hands to the beat of Raul Manglapus and his Executives combo, to Elizabeth Ramsey belting the blues and cracking her ribald jokes…when Anita Arregui, clacking her castanets and flashing her dark eyes as she danced a stationary flamenco…Who was it? Lydia A? Moya J?
Dancing on the table and somebody was swinging like an ape from the wagon wheel lamp hanging from the rafters. Many happy memories of old friends Bob Garcia, Monching Osmeña, Paul Kiener….Of Homer Gonzales reading poetry in the corner and Loloy Lu nursing his beer. A favorite stopover after party hopping, Lily F. and I for a cup of coffee and Eddie throwing in a thick wedge of apple pie.
Cebuanos had their real first taste of "American" food: fat, juicy cheeseburgers, sizzling slabs of steak, navy bean soup, boiled fresh corned beef.
Dem were the days, my friends and the rip-roaring, yippee-ya-yoh last week was a loving tribute to Eddie Woolbright, the best cowpoke from Oklahoma who ever lived and died, the tough guy with a marshmallow heart, the legend that is Eddie…
For Bisaya stories from Cebu. Click here. (March 30, 2006 issue)
Write letter to the editor.Click here.
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