There’s a new Tavolata by The Abaca Group in SM City Cebu. Months ago, I wrote that Tavolata, with its uncompromising approach to Italian comfort, was my personal bet for a future Michelin nod. The universe clearly had other plans and Maya — with its Mexican fare — took the spotlight instead. That’s totally fine. Tavolata continues to be excellent with or without the spotlight.
Chef Patrick Corpuz, managing director of The Abaca Group, shared that positioning for accolades was never really the goal. The priority has always been delivering excellent items true to the heart of Italy, a pursuit he strengthened with a recent culinary research trip to Italy.
The new branch continues the brand’s strong pizza-and-pasta program. The dough remains beautifully blistered, the kind that only comes from respecting time and heat; the pasta still doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it should be: simple, honest, correct.
“It’s like your mom’s humba,” said Chef Corpuz. “It doesn’t always look the part, but it’s always perfect!”
The ambience leans warm and date-friendly, but not in a dim, try-hard way. It’s polished but open enough for laughter, quiet enough for long conversations and comforting enough to feel like a pause amid the foot traffic of SM. In a mall that rarely stops moving, Tavolata feels like a place that asks you to stop — even briefly.
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Max Limpag is a cool dude. A journalist’s journalist. Surrounded by drama but never a part of it.
It’s unfortunate how we write good things about people who can no longer read them. Max passed away due to a heart attack on Nov. 18, 2025. He was 49.
Max’s passion for journalism was infectious and especially inspiring if you were young and still finding your footing. We had numerous conversations years back on how QR codes could bridge tech and lifestyle, long before the pandemic, at a time when QR use was gimmicky at best. He was all about innovation and progress. He was ahead, but never arrogant about it.
His final chapters covering the Church beat were, interestingly, some of his most fun. Max was not the stereotype: not overly pious, not performatively reverent. What he was, consistently, was hungry for truth. And that hunger lit up newsrooms, coffee shop meetings, press events — anywhere someone still craved old-school investigative journalism. His stories on the missing Boljoon panels and the publishing scams in Cebu were national milestones.
I couldn’t react immediately when I learned of his passing; I was confined in the hospital myself for matters of the heart. In fact, I’m typing this now while being wheeled out for discharge. This could’ve been a week we would’ve laughed about in our next coverage — the kind where he’d shake his head in silence with a smile, then talk about the next big scoop.
Thank you, Max. For the guidance. For the push. For the example. Viva, Max.