The bowl of chilled sesame noodles at Pilya’s Kitchen is a master of deception—naked noodles seemingly bare of any dressing, topped with ribbons of cucumber, onion, leeks, and strips of egg. It all looks innocent until you discover that it sits on a fiery secret—a potent sauce rich with the nuttiness and umami of sesame oil, and the ebullient spice of chili peppers.
Even without mixing the bowl well, the oils cling to the chewy, thick noodles just by pulling them up. The intoxicating aroma of sesame prepares you for the more intense flavors that hit the top of your mouth—tingly chili peppers that program you to dig in for more.
From the US to the Philippines
Pilya’s Kitchen—which claims stall 11 at The Grid Food Market—has laboriously grown its audience through Taiwanese and Sichuan dishes. Owner and chef Kriza Palmero shares what many Filipinos in the Philippines know of Chinese food growing up.
“The Chinese food that I knew was like Yang Chow fried rice and sweet and sour pork,” Palmero says. “I wanted more people to appreciate these new flavors. They may not be familiar with them, but it should have a spark when they taste it.”
“The Chinese food that I knew was like Yang Chow fried rice and sweet and sour pork,” Kriza Palmero says. “I wanted more people to appreciate these new flavors. They may not be familiar with them, but it should have a spark when they taste it”
Palmero’s fighting spirit comes through when she speaks of her culinary journey. She recalls working at a theme park during summers in New Jersey, where she made funnel cakes, and at a ski resort in Vermont during winters. “I was hired as a cook, but when the executive chef saw me—maybe because I was skinny—he placed me at the front of the house instead of the kitchen,” she says disappointedly.
Eventually, they had her in the kitchen helping out, making burgers and soups from scratch. “I learned the basics there.”
But it was her move to New York that really put her on track. She applied at a noodle shop in Chelsea Market called Very Fresh Noodles. “I was there for two to three years, and then I became their sous chef,” she says.
There, she had an epiphany, having experienced, worked with, and tasted firsthand “flavors that are not the usual from the Chinese food that I know.” “It was like, ‘Oh my God.’ I didn’t know these flavors existed,” she exclaims.
A whole family affair
Palmero’s work visa was to expire, so she begrudgingly returned to the Philippines in December 2019. But this turned out to be a blessing in disguise as the world would shut down three months later. She then began a home operation involving her whole family during the pandemic. “Everyone during that time was making sushi bakes and ube pandesal. So I thought about making something special that wasn’t done here yet,” she explains.
“I decided to make beef noodle soup kits,” the chef adds. “My mom would make the dumplings. I would pull noodles, while my brother helped me cook them, and then shock them in ice water. My sister would take all the orders and send messages to everyone and get their payments, and my dad would wait outside for the riders to get the food delivered.”
“My mom would make the dumplings. I would pull noodles, while my brother helped me cook them, and then shock them in ice water. My sister would take all the orders and send messages to everyone and get their payments, and my dad would wait outside for the riders to get the food delivered”
She credits chef JP Anglo’s shoutout online about her beef noodle soup kits that really spread the word about her food, which eventually got her a spot in The Grid Food Market. She named her restaurant Pilya’s Kitchen—“pilya” meaning mischievous or naughty in Filipino, a word she describes herself by.
Palmero looks up to chefs like Anthony Bourdain and Margarita Forés. “I feel like if you’re a female chef, you have to give your 200 percent for other chefs to respect you just because you’re a female. So I think that’s what pushed me to work harder,” she says.
Biang biang into the room
Behind the glass of her stall, where a cheeky, neon sign says “Send Noodz”, diners can watch Palmero make biang biang noodles. She stretches out the dough with both arms outstretched and fiercely slaps it on the counter.
The word “biang biang” is actually an onomatopoeia—the sound that the dough makes as it hits the counter. She then tears the dough in the middle, creating a wide noodle, and quickly throws it into a pot of boiling water. She cooks the noodles until they have a bite likened to well-cooked tapioca balls—the kind you find in bubble tea.
“I didn’t want to serve rice,” Palmero says simply. “I want our store to be noodle-focused.”
Even if a certain dish tastes amazing with white rice, she wants to build a case that noodles would make an even greater pair. Her mapo biang puts together the popular spicy soft tofu and minced pork dish with her chewy biang biang noodles. No complaints here as the dish sings—the oils, minced pork, and fermented black beans all grab hold of the noodles, every bite not quite the same as the last one.
The pork and shrimp dumplings are still made proudly by Palmero’s mother to this day. Succulent packets of meat filling swimming in Pilya’s Kitchen’s signature chili oil.
Lit up a fire in her soul
On Oct. 30, The Michelin Guide awarded Pilya’s Kitchen a Bib Gourmand—an accolade that recognizes the restaurant’s quality and good value. “It still hasn’t sunk in. I’m still on cloud nine, and it’s still overwhelming,” Palmero says. “We wouldn’t have gotten it without the best team—and without my family, too, behind me.
“My main focus now is to just keep serving good food, pay and treat my staff well. The award is just a cherry on top,” the chef adds.
The future is bright for the young chef. And as she basks in the recognition—or more like works double time with the longer lines that form outside her stall—Palmero imagines the possibilities. A second location with a bigger kitchen, for example, can have her play around and introduce new dishes. “I love lamb skewers. Oh! Maybe a Taiwanese breakfast in the morning. I want to do cocktails too,” she exclaims, her mind running wild with ideas.
Just like her bowl of chilled sesame noodles, Palmero—who can come off as timid and soft-spoken at first—has a fire inside. And this is just the first bite of what she can do.
