Behind some of London’s most compelling restaurants is Florence Mae Maglanoc—a quiet force redefining how the city experiences Filipino cuisine.
After years spent honing her craft in hospitality, she stepped into her own. Today, she stands at the helm of a growing culinary collective: Donia, a modern Filipino restaurant that was recently awarded a Bib Gourmand by the Michelin Guide in 2025; Panadera, a neighborhood café inspired by everyday Filipino baked goods; and the 1996 Group, a hospitality umbrella that brings all her ventures under one visionary roof.
A taste of home, tucked in a suitcase
Maglanoc’s family left the Philippines for Belfast, Northern Ireland when she was just three years old. Despite settling in a foreign country, her parents were determined that she and her four older siblings remain firmly rooted in their Filipino heritage—nurtured, above all else, by the food shared around the family table.
When asked about her earliest memories of Filipino cuisine, she lights up, recalling the thrill of her mother’s return from her annual trip to the homeland. “Mom’s suitcase—it had everything,” she says, describing how she eagerly awaited the moment its contents were revealed.
Inside was a treasure trove of childhood favorites: packets of instant noodles, cans of corned beef, and packs of chocolate wafer snacks. “Ironically, I always thought of Filipino food as a luxury,” Maglanoc says, “simply because it wasn’t something I could easily have.”
Maglanoc’s culinary journey began with the humble pandesal—a beloved Filipino bread roll traditionally enjoyed at breakfast alongside a cup of black coffee. Though its name translates to “salt bread” in Spanish, this staple is subtly sweet, with a pillowy soft interior and a thin, golden crust that gives way to a satisfying chew.
“Ironically, I always thought of Filipino food as a luxury,” Florence Mae Maglanoc says, “simply because it wasn’t something I could easily have”
As the youngest in the family, Maglanoc was often expected to stay home, learning to bake alongside her mother. Every step was done by hand, meticulously, until the recipe was committed to memory and each movement felt intuitive. At first, she was reluctant, but over time, she grew to appreciate those shared moments.
Her mother, Maria Fe, was a strong woman who held fast to her principles. “She taught me to make something out of whatever I have,” she says. Much of what she lives by today—both as a chef and entrepreneur—stems from those early lessons. The resilience, resourcefulness, and steadfast resolve her mother instilled continue to guide her decisions.
Her yearning for a taste of home she never fully knew was relentless. Maria Fe had an instinct for cooking that went beyond pastry; she passed this on to Florence, too. She recalls learning to adapt, working with the available produce to recreate well-loved dishes like sinigang. Often, kangkong, a staple leafy green in Southeast Asian cuisine, had to be substituted with readily available spinach.
From graphics to gastronomy
Around her 18th birthday, just before heading off to university, Maglanoc found herself at a crossroads. Originally set on studying dentistry, she was encouraged by a former art teacher to pursue a more creative path instead.
Though part of her cherished the familiarity and steady rhythm of the life she had always known, her curiosity was insistent, pulling her toward a new direction. “London is, and has always been, the dream,” she says. With renewed courage, she applied to the University of the Arts London and was accepted into the graphic design program—a move that would ultimately reshape the trajectory of her career.
“London is, and has always been, the dream,” she says
In London, Maglanoc was quickly swept up by the city’s distinctive energy. Immersed in its vibrant cultural scene, her passion for good food (and wine) flared, taking on a life of its own.
At 19, while pursuing her degree, Maglanoc landed her first hospitality job at a popular spot for Pan-Asian cuisine. Though initially hired to manage the brand side of the business, one thing led to another, and she soon found herself on the floor—helping in the prep kitchen and even running front of house. “I didn’t fully understand what hospitality was until then,” shares Maglanoc.
Building on her momentum, Maglanoc seized the opportunity to co-develop Mamasons Dirty Ice Cream, a London-based parlor that opened in the summer of 2017 and rapidly gained a following for its uniquely Filipino flavors, including ube and black buko (coconut with activated charcoal). The venture proved to be a fertile training ground for what would follow. In 2021, during the pandemic’s forced pause, Maglanoc found herself craving a slower pace—an impulse that led to the creation of Panadera.
READ: London supper clubs spread joys of Filipino food
Pandesal and the pursuit of place
The vision behind Panadera was to bring to life a neighborhood café that paid tribute to the baked goods of her childhood—pandesal, pan de coco, and ensaymada among them.
Things had come full circle: Maglanoc was now baking pandesal for others, offering the comfort of her mother’s homegrown recipe to her community and to London at large. She describes building the business from the ground up as a profoundly iterative process, marked by periods of trial and adjustment. What gave her pause was the uncertainty of how a standalone Filipino bakery might be received. Still, she took the leap, guided by equal parts sound strategy and intuition.
Today, Panadera has expanded to include two highly regarded locations: Soho and Marylebone. To Maglanoc’s delight, the pandesal has been enthusiastically embraced by both locals and visitors. Crowd favorites include the corned beef pandesal and garlic cheese pandesal, frequently paired with a cup of coffee.
An avid diner herself, Maglanoc has always valued transformative spaces—places that foster a sense of community, something she strives to recreate through her own work. Though the kitchen often calls to her, Maglanoc eventually found that her true strength lies in concept development. “That’s what I love most about the industry,” she explains. “It’s this opportunity to create concepts—to tell a meaningful story.”
An ode to the British Filipino identity
Far from feeling settled, Maglanoc felt the familiar pull of a new project. The opening came in the form of a near-serendipitous phone call from her landlord, telling her a restaurant space had become available. In hindsight, everything seems more straightforward, but Maglanoc remains candid about how each launch presented a steep hill to climb, with challenges she learned to navigate on the fly.
In just under two months, Maglanoc and her team worked feverishly to lay the foundations for the restaurant, and in late 2023, Donia welcomed its first guests. “There was no room for compromise with this one,” she explains. From the outset, she saw Donia as a reflection of her ethos and experience to date.
True to its origins, the restaurant celebrates tradition in rich and varied ways, though its menu is best understood as a modern interpretation of Filipino cuisine—a purposeful direction shaped by Maglanoc and her team
“Donia” carries layers of meaning and intention. Inspired by her mother’s maiden name, Ordonia, it also serves as a playful nod to the Spanish title Doña, a term of respect and honor for women. True to its origins, the restaurant celebrates tradition in rich and varied ways, though its menu is best understood as a modern interpretation of Filipino cuisine—a purposeful direction shaped by Maglanoc and her team.
Located in Kingly Court along Carnaby Street, a lively enclave in London’s Soho, Donia is an intimate space where the sweet-and-sour soul of the Philippines meets the depth of British produce. “Filipino food is all about perspective,” says Maglanoc. “It can mean different things to different people.”
To her, at its core is the understated magic of a good sauce—how it weaves depth and complexity into the simplest of dishes. In her capacity as both executive chef and owner, she is driven by a desire to present food that resonates with London’s diverse palate. Over time, she has developed a nuanced approach to balancing the Filipino and British influences that inform her own story.
Since its inception, Donia has received overwhelmingly positive acclaim. Last February, it earned the prestigious Bib Gourmand distinction from the Michelin Guide, becoming one of 43 restaurants in London to be recognized.
“Donia is my love letter to the British Filipinos”
For Maglanoc, the outpouring of love and support continues to humble her. In these moments, she fondly recalls her teenage years, when birthday parties doubled as occasions to introduce foreign friends to Filipino food and its signature shared-plate dining style. In many ways, her career has helped her confront the identity struggles common to those caught between two cultures. Through the food she thoughtfully creates, she finds a way to reconcile her two worlds. “Donia is my love letter to the British Filipinos,” she says.
1996 and beyond
With experience on her side, founding a collective of her own felt like the natural next step. Established just last March, the 1996 Group draws its name from the year Maglanoc was born—a personal timestamp marking her evolution. In this new chapter, she aims to move beyond being a chef-restaurateur to embrace her broader role as a founder and creative leader.
When asked to expound on her longer-term vision for the group, she points to the potential of connecting her existing work with other creatively driven industries, including art and fashion. “I want it to feel like a blank canvas,” she says, echoing the openness and curiosity she and her team bring to what lies ahead.
In carving out a space for Filipino cuisine in London, she remains guided by a quiet devotion to the flavors that first came to life in her family’s kitchen
As for Panadera and Donia, her focus is on sustaining their growth: fine-tuning what is already in place and further enriching what each concept brings to the table.
Despite the rush of service, Maglanoc returns to the simplest, most honest of desires: “I want to reach people—to touch them with my food.”
In carving out a space for Filipino cuisine in London, she remains guided by a quiet devotion to the flavors that first came to life in her family’s kitchen. For her, it was never about chasing mass acceptance but about sparking genuine curiosity, then nurturing it into something deeper.
At the heart of her culinary journey lies a profound commitment to sharing stories through food—a commitment that transcends ingredients and recipes to create belonging, connection, and a sense of home for all who taste it.
