Hong Kong means dim sum heaven. So first things first: Don’t miss the xiao long bao at New York Times fave Din Tai Fung (Shop 3-9, G/F, 68 Yee Wo Street, Causeway Bay; Shop 130, 3/F, Silvercord, 30 Canton Road, Tsim Sha Tsui. No reservations.) It’s umami heaven!
I found an interesting restaurant for those who are willing to pay for a little privacy. It’s called Prime 101 on the second floor of a building on Chino Roces Avenue near Don Bosco Makati.
I am so sorry, Malu Gamboa, but I have to break my promise and spill the chili beans on El Chupacabra!
It’s an inspiring time for the Catholic Church as Pope Francis brings a fresh energy to the faith, making disillusioned members do a double take on an institution that has been severely suffering from the disconnect between the congregation and the clergy.
Today we remember the trials and sufferings of our Lord Jesus Christ. Repent and try to wash ourselves of our sins, and abstain from meat as sacrifice.
Sunday, March 10, was a sad day for the culinary world as Ed Quimson, one of the Philippines’ most respected and loved chefs, passed away due to heart complications. Gourmets and gourmands the nation over came together to mourn the passing of this huggable, lovable, always smiling chef.
Filipino restaurateurs have raised the Philippine flag in the international restaurant scene once again. For the nth time, Tonyboy Escalante’s Antonio’s made it to the Top 20 of the Miele Guide at Number 17. It continues to be mentioned in the same breath as Robuchon au Dome (Macau) and L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon (Hong Kong), [...]
Oh, Tokyo. You have earned my lifelong reverence. Your warm welcome (and toilet bowl seats); your culture of respect for labor and laborers; your intricate attention to detail from subway murals to sushi. You are a most beautiful balance of yin and yang, hot and cold, timeless beauty and radical creativity.
“R is for Romantic,” MFK Fisher writes in “An Alphabet for Gourmets,” ”… and for a few of the reasons that gastronomy is, and always has been connected, with its sister art of love.”
You would never imagine this setting in Makati’s red light district.
I’ve driven alone as far as Mindoro and back, sleeping in the car aboard a boat that also had a truck of noisy pigs screeching for their lives beside me. So I understand how, like the drivers in the avant-garde Japanese foodie movie “Tampopo,” you can be so tired and hungry that you can consume an entire bowl of ramen.
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