The sizzling heat of the August sun crept the ground as I padded my way towards the intersecting pedestrian crossings connecting Tokyu Plaza and Cerulean Tokyu Tower Hotel in Sakuragaoka-cho. To my left, a neat sushi bar was getting ready for its first customer. If only the pavement could drink, it could use an icy Sapporo beer or two. Around me, Tokyo-ites hurried towards their important destinations. Men’s white short sleeve shirts and black pants hugged their skin as their sweat trickles down. Women’s hats, a practical fashion accessory at this time, can only do so much. This was summer in Tokyo. Not even sweat could slow down the salarymen.
The hot and humid climate did not deter me from exploring one of the most challenging cities in the world for the first time. Though picking up a nice pocket wi-fi service at the airport was comforting, knowing I could never get lost in Tokyo with Google, I allowed myself to feel apprehensive. Anything can happen.
The city commemorated Obon Festival, which happens yearly at mid-August. At this time, locals travel back to their hometowns to remember their departed loved ones. While many shops were closed, and travelling to different prefectures in Japan would be stressful for those taking the train, Tokyo was relatively accessible during Obon. With careful planning and with knowledge that my trip to Tokyo was during their Obon week, my itinerary had to be strictly followed, no dots left out of i’s, and no crosses left out of t’s. Armed with Google Maps and a couple of Tokyo Metro and JR East navigation apps, I was ready to explore the city in 7 days.
My first order of business were a couple of tourist spots not to be taken out of any first time traveller’s agenda in Tokyo including Meiji Shrine. My navigation app directed me to a train along the brown Fukutoshin Line, which I confidently boarded. Train stations weren’t far from what I was familiar in Singapore and Hong Kong’s commuter train systems. Alighting on the next stop to change lines was the norm for Asian countries. Little did I know, it would skip the next station where it was supposed to regularly stop and where I was supposed to change line. This was the time of Obon, Japan’s own version of Memorial Day weekend where schedules could get strange. Instinct told me to get out the next stop and take the train heading back to Shibuya.
Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s “Abenomics” was working. With over 13 million tourists now visiting Japan in 2014, Japan could easily hit its target of 20 million tourists in time for the 2020 Summer Olympics. Though the relaxation of visa requirements was a huge contributor to the Japan hype, an intimidating vibe hovers around the city with its “Galapagos syndrome” characteristics, particularly with its train system. Withdrawing cash from ATM machines using international debit cards was another hurdle for tourists. In Japan Tourism Agency’s survey in late 2011, roughly 16% of its survey population cited withdrawing cash from ATM machines one of their biggest troubles, the number steadily increasing as one heads to rural areas.
As I prepared to get out of the dreaded Fukutoshin train that I would most definitely avoid in the future, I spotted an obvious middle-aged tourist poring over a paper map, his glasses sliding from the bridge of his nose.
I mentally gave myself an apologetic pat while attempting to rely on the navigation app. To be honest, even without consulting the navigation app, I had known which train to board going to Meiji Shrine which is a station away from Shibuya via the JR Yamanote loop, but I wanted to experience navigating the city using different trains. Learning to navigate Tokyo was a must for every tourist nowadays, especially as the train system is run by different train operators. Relying too much on the JR Yamanote loop could become addictive. Nearly all tourist spots in Tokyo are easily accessible using the loop.
After immersing myself in the contrasting youthful shops of Takeshita-dori in Harajuku and the serene sanctuary of the Meiji Shrine, I was ready to cap my day with a satisfying meal at Maisen Tonkatsu. Maisen Tonkatsu at Aoyama is the de facto choice for tonkatsu by many foodies. Dining at this restaurant which was a couple of blocks away from the residential Omotesando Hills is a tourist experience in itself. Maisen’s flagship store used to be a public bathhouse back in World War II.
A single dining experience alone at this truly authentic Japanese restaurant left me in awe of the Japanese culture. A glass would be continuously filled with cold water without notice and a bow to every customer was given. A guest had to place bills on a plate designated for payment and absolutely no tips will be accepted. Couple that with the unmistakeable quality of Kurobuta cooked in quality Panko breadcrumbs that gives the tonkatsu a juicy and crunchy exterior and the experience was remarkable. For a first impression, Maisen, the King of Tonkatsu, did not disappoint; I began to wonder whether this attention to quality and service is distinctly Maisen. On the contrary, could this be how everything is here?
My smartphone’s alarm rang its silk, asian tone, the sun barely up at 5:00 in the morning. It was day two, a pleasant Tuesday morning where I am most certain my skin would be sticky once again from the heat. As the feeling of being in a vacation trickled by senses, I jumped from the bed and headed for a quick shower. It was a very important day two. The only day in my week long visit in Tokyo that Tsukiji market would be open.
The world’s largest fishing market is like nothing else. Had I woken up earlier, I would have made it in time for the largest tuna auction in the world, a feat Guinness World Records had no complaints taking note of. This wasn’t a day I could afford boarding another wrong train. One slight miscalculation could end up missing the highly acclaimed sushi breakfast.
After following a man dressed in rain boots and carrying what was suspiciously crabs judging from the pincers peeking from his cooler box, I reached the back entrance of Tsukiji market. A security personnel shouted at me as I attempted to enter. To my relief, he pointed me to where the visitor’s entrance was.
Tsukiji market is every chef’s dream come true. The freshest seafood presented itself, row after row, from boxes of Uni, to dried scallops and abalone. My sushi breakfast was nothing short of matching this dream, the sushi chef happily torching the Anago sushi laced with teriyaki sauce, giving it a slightly burnt exterior and bittersweet taste. The season of eel trumps during August, with tourists ordering plates and plates of Anago and bowls of chirashizushi to quench the summer heat. One who needs omelette for breakfast need not despair. Marutake’s famous tamagoyaki will wake you up with its cheap 100 yen sweet egg.
The day went without challenges reaching Nijubashi-mae, the Imperial Palace, and the magnificent Tokyo train station via Marunouchi Line. There was little room to feel lost in translation. As I explored the city, my mind was slowly adapting to the Japanese way of life. If my change for a purchase comprised of coins, the coins were handed first, conveniently allowing me to put them in my purse before the bills were given. It wasn’t only customer service training; it was a way of life. Every package bought was wrapped neatly and delicately, matched with a polite bow after the package was handed over. One could say “omiyage” upon payment and be amazed at the folding of extra shopping bags inside, each fold extremely handled with care and precision. It was clear that they lived for continuous improvement, every experience outdoing the last and reviewing what can be improved. It had not only been Maisen. It was done in each and every part of the city.
If I could only take home with me the vending machine that spurted out my order at a ramen bar, I would. My country is in dire need of a restaurant revolution, where one does not have to feel frustrated after three succeeding follow-ups of his order only to find himself short of his expectations.
A couple of drunk locals boarded the train heading to Roppongi early afternoon, their alcoholic stench evident as they laughed and snickered trying to keep their senses alive. There is no such thing as a perfect city. I shrugged the thought as I made my way towards one of my most anticipated dinners ~ dining at Nihonryori RyuGin.
In a city where the number of Michelin restaurants outnumbered others from all over the world, Chef Seiji Yamamoto’s Nihonryori RyuGin shines at 29th spot in 2014 San Pellegrino and Acqua Panna’s World’s 50 Best Restaurants and the 4th spot in Asia’s 50 Best Restaurants. His modern Japanese style mixed with European technique made his restaurant hard to book even a month before schedule. The “Singing Dragon” restaurant showered the diner with rare ocean delicacies from skipjack tuna to spiny lobster, to the famous pickled ginger atop summer duck and poached egg. The reverence Chef Yamamoto presented with his diners is palpable with his famous swimming Ayu, the live eel grilled over white charcoal to death to symbolize the importance of the animal. After all, Chef Yamamoto was famous for sending an eel for a CT scan to study its anatomy. Each meal ended with the Chef’s famous Candied Fruit, frozen at -196 degrees with liquid nitrogen, a playful way to reward the diners for enduring the 10 course meal.
I was over the moon as Chef Seiji Yamamoto personally got out of his kitchen and bowed at me deeply as I left his fine, fine restaurant.
In Tokyo, one shouldn’t miss dining at a Michelin star sushi restaurant. Booking a seat at the world’s greatest sushi master, Sukiyabashi Jiro, can be evasive; but truth to be told, Tokyo is filled with many equally excellent sushi candidates. I chanced upon Sushi Yoshitake, the three Michelin star sushi restaurant, which has been steadily gaining a loyal list of patrons, is tucked neatly in an alley within the high-end neighborhood Ginza. Like RyuGin, the seven seater restaurant was incredibly hard to book, with the friendly Japanese sushi master gaining plus stars from tourists with his fluency for English. I was served freshly made sushi which I happily ate with my bare hands, stopping each moment to remind myself of the right way to eat sushi. This wasn’t the land of california rolls where I could poke and point at sushi with chopsticks, a slight dab of soy enough before swallowing it in one bite, and too much of wasabi frowned upon. I cussed as my anago fell off my rice which I quickly shoved in my mouth before the chef could see me, the nerves suddenly getting the better of me before I continued with poise. Beside me, two fellow Asians drank sake after sake, each pairing giving the pieces of sushi a unique story. The Uni was a fine finale to the whole Sushi Yoshitake experience, as each diner stared at the duo of beautiful and creamy Uni, one originating from Hokkaido and the other from Miyagi prefecture. It was sweet, oceanic in taste, the best sushi I have ever had in my life.
As my last day in Tokyo eclipses before me, I couldn’t leave Tokyo without stopping by Omoide Yokocho once again. The former Piss Alley now hailed as Memory Lane gave a faint musty smell to anyone with a penchant for imagining things at the mention of the word “piss”. Smoke hovers the air as sticks and sticks of yakitori and chicken innards are grilled to anyone who wants a night cap. The red-faced salarymen line the shabby izakaya after their second bottle of sake. The theme at Omoide Yokocho is Japan, post-war poverty, ladened with izakayas built since the 1940’s. I headed towards Bar Albatross, where bartenders freely lend their ears, a wallflower for the night while one is hit with nostalgia. The bartender chats with a couple beside me, as he pours my 800 yen sake in a shot glass.
Summer in Tokyo wasn’t all bad, I reflected sipping my sake, recalling some of the articles I’ve read before my trip to Tokyo. Summer was incredibly fun. Tokyo DisneySea made me feel welcome as locals danced to the summer’s theme song while Mickey Mouse’s float sprayed water to every single person in the theme park, no escape. It was Coyote Ugly minus the beer and tap dance. I could only imagine what the 2020 Summer Olympics would bring to the country. The city doesn’t need Godzilla’s marketing prowess. It was already a “gorira” on its own.
My watch read twelve midnight and I knew I had to head back before the last train. Early signs of separation anxiety loomed above my head. I learned to love the city in all its shapes and sizes, no matter how little conversation I had with the locals.
“Oganjo wo onegaishimasu?”, I tentatively said in a small voice to the bartender who graciously smiled as he handed me my bill. It was one of the few basic Japanese phrases I studied before my trip to Tokyo. I scampered quickly as I crossed Kabukicho, the supposedly safest night district in Shinjuku, already starting to reflect the area’s real reason for being. Nothing is perfect.
I stared at the infamous Shibuya crossing early morning from my hotel, as local TV stations and independent videographers prepared their video equipment to capture the world’s most famous intersection at daybreak. The city had a soul fed by a mission to be better than ever. At exactly 7:51am, my bus scheduled for Narita International Airport arrived. Tokyo’s punctuality is crazy.
I was lucky to return to Tokyo shortly after my trip that summer for the Hanami season. Sakuragaoka-cho was decorated naturally with blooming sakuras, the flowers blooming so beautifully pink in color. March was different. The influx of tourists was maddening, the evidence of “Abenomics” penetrating in the city. Omotesando Hills appeared to be a large venue for a birthday party, overflowing with balloons. The crowds blocked the pathways as I steadily walked the ups and downs of the hills until a light blue icon with an obvious “M” lettering drew a relief from me.
My trusty navigation app loaded my route as I typed “Kitasando” as my current location and “Shibuya” as my destination. I stared at my smartphone, hoping my eyes haven’t crossed. The brown Fukutoshin Line devilishly beckons me to ride its train.
This story is originally published in Candid Cuisine.
Follow @candidcuisine on Instagram.
If over-the-top (OTT) messaging services proliferated the year 2014, the likes of Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime invaded 2015, becoming an obvious threat to the once flourishing TV industry. Reporting another 3.3 million subscribers this July 2015, Netflix successfully changed the mechanics of the television game, even going as far as bypassing pilot season requirements for the Primetime Emmy Award nominated drama series House of Cards.
In a report by Business Insider, a significant 40% of Time Warner and Comcast subscribers cut cords after four months of subscribing to Dish Network’s Sling TV, a TV-on-the-internet bundled service offering an affordable $20 a month package for viewing select cable channels. An alarming 60% of Dish and DirecTV satellite subscribers also pull the plug after opting in Sling TV, with Netflix complementing the consumer binge-watching experience by taking a bite out of the market share last August by 58%.
While cord-cutting remains a myth to those who refuse to accept the present decline of Pay TV, television and cable companies must squarely face the inevitable threat and embrace the paradigm shift from traditional thinking to digital thinking.
Tell Great Stories.
At the end of the day, it all boils down to content. Content differentiates a television company from merely a linear TV network into a storytelling network. A powerful story transcends beyond conventional formats and blurs the definition between a TV series and a movie. Changing consumer patterns suggest that device and length are becoming irrelevant to viewing experiences. Does a film have to be watched in theatre to be called a film? If an entire season of Daredevil is available only for viewing on the Netflix app, is it no longer called a TV series, as it is not aired on TV? Consumer habits have always dictated that content goes beyond a single screen. Humans by nature are a mobile race and strong content demands high mobility. If there is anything that the music business has taught the entertainment industry, it is giving the audience full control of the remote, and let them watch what they want, when they want and where they want. TV companies need to only keep one thing in mind: story.
But how can television companies reinvent their ways of telling a story of impact? Is it enough to bring the best lineup of Hollywood stars in a drama sitcom?
Look at the Numbers.
Gone are the days when television companies would rely on the ratings to dictate programming decisions. Technology has made it possible to understand consumer habits in real-time. Netflix has attributed much of its success to data analytics every time they put out a new show. What kind of shows are users searching for? Do they complete an entire episode in one sitting? How long do they binge-watch? Never has it become more reliable to look at the big data and decide which actor is the most effective in a TV series. Maintaining a library of original shows shouldn’t only be the priority, but established TV networks must work on building and enriching their metadata, and correlate these into viewing habits. It is not enough to give audience full control, but users will be looking for recommendations that will personalize their daily programming.
While there is an obvious trend for Netflix and Hulu to release serialized dramas filled with dark, dramatic, and crime themes, VidCon’s annual multi-genre online video conference showcasing top content creators from various platforms such as YouTube, Vine, and Vimeo prove that user-generated content is as appealing as premium TV content.
Collaborate.
What do Instagram photographers, YouTube stars and Wattpad authors have in common? They are the new breed of content creators, who conceptualize storyboards, shoot frames, edit scenes, mix sound effects, and master their craft all on their own, just as a team of director, producer, cinematographer, and actor would do in a production set. Their success stems from the concept of “perfectly imperfect”, as people veer away from overproduced content and artificial storylines. Repetitive beast modes within their platform that remain as an enigma to content marketers present an opportunity to capitalize on their stardom. Media businesses should collaborate with them for unpolished, raw stories in whatever format reimagined. The collaborative era creates revenue opportunities to form multi-channel networks and hone their craft. Understanding that Internet stars doesn’t have to be confined within their niche platforms is the key to unlocking the knowledge that only ubiquitous content can drive synergistic experiences.
The first ever Kalyeserye (translation: Street TV Series) aired on Philippine television “AlDub”, a love team between the young actor Alden Richards and Dubsmash star Maine Mendoza, proves that a simple yet striking story permeates the great wall between traditional storytelling medium and digital platforms like the superpowers of Marvel’s Kitty Pryde. While the iconic Maine Mendoza first became famous on Dubsmash, her raw and relatable charisma revived the popularity of the Philippines’ longest running variety show from obsolete TV to breaking TV ratings. Fandom emerged across all kinds of communities worldwide, from Youtube to Facebook fan pages to print merchandise and breaking Twitter records worldwide with 25.6 million tweets in 24 hours.
Digital as core business, not as a silo.
The painful reality that one day the symbolic broadcasting tower will no longer be in sight looms like a black cloud above TV executives. The future is digital and it is only rational for television executives to make digital their core line of business. Transforming a company into digital takes more than just creating online streaming services to stay relevant in the industry. The heart of core operations need to revolve around content delivery networks (CDN), metadata management (MDM), and digital platform development, previously occupied by broadcast transmissions and linear channel programming. Programs on live linear channels need to be transcoded into high-definition digital format preferably right after airing to sustain momentum. Production teams need to be mindful of shooting scenes where films will eventually be distributed to digital storefronts such as iTunes, or incur additional operating costs in material restoration. It is not as simple as reorganization of a company and forming a digital division that would tend to operate in silo while traditional media is business as usual. Digital has to be integrated in every process and division of the entire company.
Don’t add fuel to the fire.
Piracy remains a big issue, the effects of which eat up CDN operating costs as illegal pirated sites would normally share the same data delivery pipe with legitimate distribution medium. While it is penultimate for networks to ensure the right digital rights management (DRM) measures are in place, the key takeaway from Netflix’ model is to offer content at a reasonable price, as customers will most likely pay for the service than to rip off content. As HBO has shown the world that the way to deal with piracy is to not add more fuel to the fire, piracy offers an effective free marketing that can potentially increase subscriber base and revenue with reduced advertising spend.
With the rate of consumers ditching pay-TV cable subscription in favor of binge-watching and program viewership nosedive to single digit ratings, the reality that TV will be long gone in the next 20 years, as Netflix CEO Reed Hastings famously predicts, is getting imminent by the thread.
As you step out of the JR Shinjuku station, Tokyo’s busiest ward can easily overwhelm you. Shinjuku houses the busiest railway station in the world, as it is home to several government offices including the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building and conglomerates such as NTT Docomo. The ward’s personality paints a case of schizophrenia, serious by day, colorful and mysterious at night. How do you unravel the eccentricities of Shinjuku without getting lost?
Tokyo Bike Tour
Albeit a busy district, Shinjuku seems to have more bicycle riders than other wards. Under the summer heat, drizzling rains or misty Hanami season, there’s no better way to traverse Shinjuku than Akio’s personal bike tour service. Get off at Toei Subway’s Tochomae Station and meet with Akio at the sidewalk beside the Hyatt Regency Hotel. Pick up your bike for half of the day to easily cover major parts of Shinjuku.
Shinjuku Gyoen Garden
No matter how many people have already visited this magnificent garden, you can’t go wrong with Shinjuku Gyoen Garden. Make it a point to visit it in the morning, when it is less populated. A picnic basket filled with O-nigiri seems like a good idea for breakfast.
Takashimaya
Pedal towards Takashimaya, where Tokyu Hands is happily situated. Do you need a new traveling suitcase, messenger bag or luggage tag? Perhaps an oatmeal bar soap, moisturizing lotion and acne solution should be in your bucket list. But make some room for designer bags. Samantha Thavasa’s Deluxe line offering Japan-made handbags is only available at Shinjuku’s Takashimaya. Just make sure you sign up for the tax refund card at the customer service counter.
Ningyocho Imahan
Kyoto’s Katsukura Tonkatsu is tempting but when you’re in Shinjuku, there’s always the Ningyocho Imahan legacy, serving quality Wagyu Beef Tsukudani since 1895. Order the Sukiyaki Lunch Gozen that comes with Chyouji-fu, mushroom, vegetables and wage beef to sizzle in Sukiyaki sauce.
BIC Camera and Yodobashi Camera Building
You don’t have to go all the way to Akihabara to shop for electronics. BIC Camera and Yodobashi have cool bargains for all the coveted point and shoot cameras you want. Get extra 5% discount when you purchase electronics at Yodobashi using your Visa credit card.
Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building
Before you return Akio’s bicycle, break away from the urban jungle and bike towards the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, where getting a bird’s eye view of Tokyo is free. On days with clearer skies, you might be able to spot Mount Fuji on a distance. Keep your fingers crossed.
Omoide Yokocho
As Tokyo’s sun begins to set, leave your city personality behind and experience Shinjuku by foot, where the everything goes into full focus instead of a business blur. Shinjuku is now changing its mood, setting a nostalgic feel of old Tokyo. Relive the Edo era at Omoide Yokocho, the narrow alley ladened with Izakaya bars more popularly known as Memory Lane. Searching for this historic lane frequented by salarymen is part of its appeal. Start your appetite with some Yakitori, Kushikatsu, and a good shot of sake, but don’t get too drunk like the red-faced fella beside you. Stall owners in the alley will want to hear your story. The night is still young.
FuUnji Ramen
Who said Yakitori was dinner? Stroll towards the center of Kabukicho for the best Tsukemen in the city, FuUnji. Next to Rokurinsha in Tokyo Marounouchi’s Ramen Street, FuUnji has snaking lines that is bound to make one hungry, but surely this ramen joint will be worth the wait.
Kabukicho
They say you haven’t seen Shinjuku until you’ve been to Kabukicho, Japan’s own version of Amsterdam, minus red-painted ladies dancing behind glass doors. The rich historical entertainment district formerly known as Tsunohazu is tamer, but love hotels, massage parlors, and shanty bars line up the alleys to give you a feel of the city’s true personality. It’s almost comical to see a life-size Godzilla in the skyline of Kabukicho, the danger of which seemed less intimidating than the Yakuza-run underground, risqué establishments of the district.
Golden Gai
Never forget dropping by the Golden Gai for a nightcap, where musicians, artists, journalists, filmmakers, and producers gather to banter of ideas in their own world. This is where you can absorb the whimsical life of Shinjuku in a glass of Hibiki preferably at Albatross.
Park Hyatt Hotel
But don’t head home yet. Don’t leave Shinjuku without seeing what Sofia Coppola has created for Shinjuku. Park Hyatt Hotel deserves more than just a film reference, as its mixture of melancholy and nostalgia has given a new definition for new Shinjuku.
If the Shinjuku ward can only come to life as a person, he’ll give out the best to see in Tokyo, however you want him to be. From a shopping paradise, to sightseeing destinations, culinary experiences, erotica culture, and watering holes, Shinjuku is a gaijin’s ultimate mecca of irony, where one can effortlessly blend in as a local and get lost in translation.
Note: Akio’s bike tour is only available for 6 hours from 9:00 am to 3:00pm daily.
I gingerly sliced against the blood red fibers of Cuadril, the rarest meat I’ve had, the texture chewy and the meat flavor intense. “Known as Picana in Buenos Aires, this meat is the Pope’s favorite,” the owner of the Argentinian parilla La Cabrera in Manila shared the story of the third piece of steak in the degustacion. La Cabrera holds the 17th spot in San Pellegrino’s list of 50 Best Latin American Restaurants in the World. The classy Manila counterpart celebrated its first year of withstanding the cutthroat restaurant industry, a milestone that restaurants today should make an effort to recognise.
Along the streets of Tomas Morato and within the nooks and cranny of narrow “Scout” streets, one might notice how quick such establishments flourish and dissipate after a good six months. Aside from the overhead brought by labor, licenses, lease negotiation, and operating costs, restaurateurs need to fight one element that they can never control: time. Time will eventually make their restaurant passé. As sad as it seems, today’s economics suggest that a year or two is all the restaurant has to prove itself to remain relevant in the metro, or risk a newcomer stealing all the attention. For example, the unlimited pizza toppings concept Mad for Pizza has painstakingly fought to keep itself alive, bringing down the cost of their pizza Php 5 cheaper than the Project Pie chain. Unfortunately, the latter had opened its own store not too far from the ambitious casual pizza place, its modern, well-lit interiors attracting both the new and loyal patrons. Mad for Pizza has no choice but to close its doors to the public.
Competition is part of the equation and in the entire spectrum of the restaurant business, but one has to dig deeper at the real reason why restaurants don’t easily thrive as well as it was before. When unbacked by a veteran restaurant group, most restaurants today are opened by novice entrepreneurs, whose experience in the restaurant business is limited by their perception of reality. Hire a network of bloggers to hype about the restaurant to make some noise in social media, and execute trendy dishes that appeal to the public. Such is the world of startup restaurants. LA Times reports that the risk for such ventures are so high, investors get wary, and restaurants run out of business within the next five years. Unless one is a chef prodigy with the mastery of taste and cuisine like Aiden Byrne, dishes from these startup restaurants often come out as prototypes with substandard or substitute ingredients, hurried cooking, and unreasonable prices.
A couple of weeks ago, I dined at a newly opened restaurant specialising in pork belly, hyped by a television network and bloggers. As it was their specialty, I ordered the 12-hour pork belly priced at Php 650 that the waitstaff claimed to be good for 2 to 3 people. For a lack of better word, disappointing doesn’t come close in describing the portion size. “Slow-cooked” Adobo was absurdly priced at Php 350, when everyone knows Adobo is the simplest Filipino staple that anyone can conjure at home.
I believe the brand has the responsibility to choose carefully to whom they decide to expand their business.
The problem doesn’t stem only from these newly minted restaurants founded by young entrepreneurs. Big brands originating from other countries bear a huge responsibility of upholding the their public image and ensure that the quality remains the same as their flagship stores. Such act is tough to replicate in a country where port congestion poses as a nemesis and takes more than just burning cash to solve the problem. I believe the brand has the responsibility to choose carefully to whom they decide to expand their business, as one wrong move nowadays can ruin the brand for good. It takes more than just bringing in Panko breadcrumbs and training minions in the kitchen. Having a healthy supply of investment money doesn’t also warrant better customer experiences and restaurant operations.
If there’s any advice I can offer to foodies who can’t wait to share on Instagram, dine at these restaurants or coffee shops within its first two months of opening where the trained expatriate chefs or master baristas are legally allowed to orchestrate the kitchen and where the best of the ingredients go all out. The reverse is true for novice restaurants. Wait at least six months before dining there, where their mastery of running the restaurant like a well-oiled machine is already their second nature.
It is more often than not that we find ourselves only enjoying a small fraction of the new restaurants population, the words “overhyped” and “never going back” decorating the ratings of the restaurant in Yelp and Foursquare. If one’s intent is to enjoy good food and make the most of weekly earnings, then the Washingtonian editor and renowned food critic Todd Kilman has one advice for you: “Go High or Go Low”. Simply put, when eating out, he suggests to eat in either the cheapest restaurants in the metro, or go all out and simply dine at the best. In other words, avoid eating at restaurants in the middle.
We deserve ingredients that are properly handled and the portion size deemed fit for the average Filipino, yet still remain adventurous to try out restaurants that could become a candidate for a daily meal.
The vast middle is tricky that it’s almost possible to skip all new restaurants that are popping in every corner. Kilman suggests to ignore them, those “eat fresh”, go local-slash-organic, comfort food restaurants that sell pretentious cuisines and rob people of their budget. If one wants to go towards the extreme of this concept, the contrarian foodie, economist and author of The Economist Gets Lunch Tyler Cowen strongly recommends snubbing city centers and going all out in rural areas for exotic cuisines that are cheap and innovative.
I lean towards mixing Cowen and Kilman’s rules on how to eat better everyday. We deserve ingredients that are properly handled and the portion size deemed fit for the average Filipino, yet still remain adventurous to try out restaurants that could become a candidate for a daily meal. On the other hand, I ultimately agree that the whole organic, farm-to-table movement, no matter how fresh the ingredients may be, merits no right to position itself as elitist cuisine. Organic food doesn’t necessarily equate to having more nutritional value versus conventional ones. A farmhouse salad priced at Php 550 renders itself as a sanctimonious, differentiating cuisine, whereas a DIY salad store offering the same salad selection sells their own bowl for Php 225. Neologism (or “locavore” to the layperson) gives itself little right to become a for-profit business, when the very essence of its existence is to promote consumption of locally produced ingredients and become environmental friendly. In his book The Locavore’s Dillemma, economic geographer Pierre Desrochers argues that the sole reason the rebellious, anti-urbanisation movement has continuously disappeared and appeared over the years is because it’s simply local, the liberal food concept resulting into higher food prices.
“Food doesn’t need to be in fine dining or pricey in order to be delicious.” — Chef David Chang, Momofuku
One must be even more wary of restaurants serving “pretty food” or dishes that come out as an eye candy. Those that label themselves as “ authentic” and market themselves in big, bold, red letters as the number 1 restaurant chain in La-La Land is bound for failure. And the middle expanse is full of these restaurants, especially those who call their pieces of meat as “Wagyu”, “Mayura”, or “Matsuzaka”, when very few consumers could actually tell the differences in marbling and fat percentages. I recall being served a matchbox size of duck confit roast pork, drizzled with balsamic reduction, magnificently priced at Php 350. Another dressy restaurant highlights their Macaroni and Cheese dish for the elite, conveniently named by its Italian term “Maccheroni”. David Chang of Momofuku Noodle Bar in his book Momofuku was fond of saying, “Food doesn’t need to be in fine dining or pricey in order to be delicious.”
How does one decide where to eat best, in pursuit of making the most of money and having better experiences? Call it geeky to be putting all restaurants with the same dish into comparison before ordering, but it puts things into a different perspective. In the simplest of analogies, McDonald’s will always be at reach for anyone with a dilemma on where to eat for lunch. As fast-food is a grey area many perceive as cheap, it is inherently deceptive. McDonald’s Quarter Pounder meal, sans french fries and soda, is currently priced at Php 131.00. The 1/4 pound patty is dubious, the quality monotonous as a result of daily operations, and is bordering on expensive for a fast-food joint. If I wanted a 1/4 pound burger, 8 Cuts Burger Blends sells their Super J. Wimpy with number 3 sauce in a sesame bun for Php 145.00. I get the juiciness and the expertise of their house blend burgers at a price that is more reasonable. Teddy’s Bigger Burgers sell their 1/4 pound Classic Burger for Php 158, the patty thicker and tastier than competition, one that I’m willing to stretch my budget for.
How one determines if a restaurant plays in the middle of the field is entirely up to economic conditions. The purpose of such writing doesn’t prevent you to explore newly minted eateries but teaches you to become smarter consumers. If situation calls for finer dining prospects, such experiences offer sharpening of the palate, then one must be cautious in a French restaurant when served with pieces of cheese in a platter. If one’s preferences call for hole-in-a-wall, ghetto thrills that come in the comfort of few friends without burning a hole in your pocket, then that’s what makes it real comfort food. When gastronomic journeys stray toward the middle, one must remember to keep one eye closed in light of the food, and the other eye basked in the circus of social gatherings.
As for restaurateurs and ambitious young chefs who’d like to get a piece of limelight from bloggers and foodies alike, the message is simply. The public needs hole-in-the-wall eats that don’t scream food-world pretentious and merges the best of paradoxical public preferences for restaurants ~ healthy yet appetising, affordable yet impressive, and new yet familiar. Gastronomy is full of contradictions and not a single restaurant is perfect to withstand subjectivism. But for future references, become one of these blind item restaurants wired as a cash cow, and expect to close your doors within a few years.
Follow me on Instagram: @candidcuisine. For more gastronomy and travel tales, visit CandidCuisine.net.
Go green.
Go pink.
Go out.
Go to loud places.
Go silent, go concrete.
Go up.
Go dark.
Go to penis festival.
