ebi mentaiko alfredo pasta at gram + takoyaki fries and lychee citrus cream soda at key coffee

2/25/2023

I met with Cheska and Steph at Gram Cafe. I'd been in a mentaiko mood and looked around for places in Metro Manila that have it. One result that came up was Gram, and I was excited to find that their menu is full of similar yoshoku-style (Western fusion) dishes.  

When we got there we took forever to decide what to get because everything looked so good: salmon truffle aburi don, California rolls that had extra mango and cream cheese, wagyu hamburg curry with cheese, nori battered fish with chive tartare. (This is really just me listing the things I want to try when I go back.) Ultimately I decided on the mentaiko alfredo because that was what I'd searched for in the first place, and I wasn't disappointed — smooth cream sauce with a mild ocean-y undertone that's a little soupy but clings well to the al dente noodles and is complemented by the strips of nori, fresh shrimp, and of course, the mentaiko. I was hoping that the mentaiko would be incorporated a bit more into the sauce itself so that you get the classic pink color and a more pronounced flavor, but I loved it regardless. 

Cream-based pasta used to be my favorite food, but over the last couple of years it's become more difficult for me to be happy with just any old carbonara or alfredo, or whatever else, at restaurants. There's always something missing, or it has too much going on. So my relationship with it now is a bit more complicated, but when I find at take on it that I really like, it's always gratifying and I feel like I've discovered something one-in-a-million. 

We walked to Mitsukoshi so we could check it out and hang a little longer. Cheska wanted a matcha drink so we went to Key Coffee. It was still on soft opening and there were a lot of people, which meant most of the food menu was sold out. We decided to split an order of takoyaki fries —crisp on the outside and great at soaking up the sweet-savory-tangy mix of the sauce, the Kewpie, the spring onions and the bonito. 

I also got a lychee cream soda, served in the cutest flowery glass. It tasted like Jelly Ace and was just super fun to drink. Next time I want to try the grape. 

Steph, Cheska, and I had a lot of fun just telling our stories and making jokes that won't make sense to anyone else. It was our first time hanging out together, all of us, and the first time the two of them are meeting, ever. 

Before we parted Cheska and I went to the grocery in Mitsukoshi because I wanted to see if they have any ramune drinks — I was missing the Skal Cool Blue soda I would buy at the vending machine outside my hotel in Osaka. (Steph had already gone to meet her boyfriend, who was taking her home.) They didn't have any of the glass marble bottles, but they did have one in a plastic bottle. It tasted just like I hoped it would: like "blue," like bubblegum with a hint of lemon and a dash of nostalgia. Like a day at the mall when you were a kid, somehow.

I drank it on the ride home, grateful and warm at having spent time with great friends and getting to try these new cool and delicious things, because they were so worth the distance and the price. Sometimes you don't get lucky with fads and new places, but we chose very well this time around. 

pan roasted cedar salmon with cilantro rice, mango salsa, and cajun spices at the wholesome table

3/16/2023

Lately my ideal food has been a rich, tender protein with fluffy, herby, flavorful rice and a sweet element for depth and balance, and this dish checks off all the boxes. 

I had it when I went out to dinner with Ella, who ordered the same thing. We hadn't seen each other since 2019, and had had a few hiccups with scheduling since we were both so busy with work. I'd been worried that things between us would feel stilted at first, but when we laid eyes on each other, we picked right back up where we'd left off. Like no time had passed at all. 

We talked about our jobs, what it's like to leave publishing for creative fields that have very different inner workings (and that we never would've seen ourselves in until we actually got there), how lucky we are to be part of something with people who are kind and supportive and just get it, that's fulfilling and makes us happy with labor in a way we never thought possible. 

She talked about living away from home and wishing she could go back sometimes, how her mom would visit and they'd go out shopping, which I thought was really nice. "See, that's the thing," I began, "I was just getting to the part where my mom and I could finally be friends." And before I knew it—before I could even finish the sentence—my voice was breaking a little and I was in tears. Ella was quick to comfort me and reassure me that we all have moments that gave us license to cry in public, and it felt good to share a little about what the past two years have been like because I hardly let myself think about them sometimes. (Let alone cry about them.) 

Conversation moved on to other things, meaningful and funny and eye-opening the way talks with Ella always are. Personal, the way I don't always get to be with everyone. (Scorpio things.) She's one of the few people I can really turn to when I need perspective on mental health stuff. I checked the time after I accidentally cried and it was 6:30 p.m. The next time I checked it, it was 8:30—but it didn't feel like two hours had passed at all. 

We shared a Grab ride home and promised to see each other again very soon. It was very healing and life-affirming, and I can't wait for next time.  

As for the dish: The salmon was a little more done than I expected, but I enjoyed the crispiness of its sear. I think it was brown sugar-crusted, because the crispiness had a bit of a crystal-like texture to it, and there was an extra layer of sweetness that was unexpected but definitely not unwelcome at all. It all came together well with the rice and the mango salsa, which needs to become the next big condiment that you'll find everywhere. It's my ranch dressing. It's my chili crisp. It's my way of life and I would carry it in a tiny clip-on bottle for mango salsa emergencies if I could.