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LUNCHING AT Bale Dutung (Old
House), where couple Claude
and Mary Ann Tayag has set
up a successful dining
outlet, requires one to
commit almost a full day to
the experience.
We traveled to Angeles at
mid-morning and arrived at
the Tayags’ at noon. By the
time we traversed the NLEX
to Manila after our lunch,
the sky had turned leaden,
for it was almost evening.
We banished all thoughts of
or desire for dinner.
As Claude, who is a
multi-slashie
chef/writer/artist/sculptor/photographer/collector
tells it, most folk who drop
by Bale Dutung think they
have stepped into an
ancestral home. In truth, he
built the home only in the
1990s, “from scratch and
scrap” when he felt he had
collected enough “old stuff”
to build the home of his
imagination. “I sourced most
of my materials from an old
church that was being torn
down,” he recalled, pointing
to the limestone posts,
brick walls and wooden
panels.
On an earlier visit, I
recall him telling us that
he had sourced the
floorboards of his
second-floor living area
from a bowling alley, which
explains the patina of age
and use that no amount of
floor wax could duplicate.
Originally, said Claude, he
had planned to use the
silong or ground floor of
Bale Dutung as a display
area for his sculpture and
furnishings. But since he
was also exploring his
culinary boundaries, he
invited a group of Ateneo
faculty, including the late
great Doreen Fernandez,
“dean” of Filipino food
critics, to a “degustation”
lunch in the silong. That
first banquet was the first
of many “by invitation” or
“by reservation” meals that
have been served at Bale
Dutung.
It also marked the baptism
of Claude’s signature
dessert: a trio of balls (“I
used to call it ‘Tatlong
Bola’ until Doreen named
it,” he says, laughing) of
yema (custard), ube and
macapuno in a mascarpone
sauce that, upon first bite,
caused Fernandez to exclaim:
“Claude, this is Paradise!”
And so “Paradiso” the
dessert was born.
* * *
I HAD invited myself to the
excursion which was meant as
a farewell feast for Micky
Fenix who was leaving her
post as editor-in-chief of
Food Magazine (Nana Ozaeta,
lately of Hinge Inquirer’s
F&B World, is taking over).
Until about a year ago, my
husband Pie was Food’s
creative director and he is
still considered a member of
the family.
To my surprise I found that
Bale Dutung’s once-exclusive
premises have since gone
“public” in a big way. Apart
from our party of 14, Claude
and Mary Ann were hosting a
smaller birthday party, two
tables with relatives, and
at least two other tables
including some late
walk-ins.
Still, the Tayags refuse to
call their place a
restaurant. Diners need to
make reservations, and a
minimum party of 10 is
required. When I asked
Claude how long a lead time
one must allot for a
reservation, he laughingly
remarked “sometimes as much
as six months,” since his
schedule is erratic and he
(often with Mary Ann in tow)
travels abroad quite often.
* * *
BUT THE experience of Bale
Dutung is well worth the
wait.
Our lunch began with the
serving of dalandan juice
over cubes of “muscovado
ice,” actually calamansi
juice sweetened with
muscovado (unprocessed
sugar) and frozen. The
“muscovado ice” cools the
fruit juice while ensuring
the flavor isn’t diluted.
Bits of crackers served with
toppings of aligue sauce,
buro and pesto served as
appetizers, with Mary Ann,
who served as the annotator
of the meal, suggesting that
we mix and match the
toppings to explore the
blend of flavors.
This was followed by a salad
of pako (fiddlehead ferns)
with tomatoes, quail’s egg
and a mango vinaigrette
dressing. Time was, said
Mary Ann, when pako was
looked down upon as a mere
weed, adding that her lola
would be amused today to
know that the ferns now
command much respect.
Fried lumpia ubod encased in
a lettuce leaf was our next
appetizer, with Mary Ann
entreating us to “give us
the first bite,” that is,
taste the dish without any
sauces or embellishments,
before fine-tuning the dish
with vinegar or chili sauce.
Next came roast chicken
cooked “inasal” style and
served with a small serving
of aligue rice, liver sauce
and a small pan de sal.
After we were all done, the
servers passed around
platters of a kind of
lumpia: buro and slices of
fried hito encased in a
mustasa (native mustard)
leaf; as well as Claude’s
take on sushi, nori-wrapped
rice topped with a dollop of
aligue and a sliver of
kamias. The contrast between
the salty/fishy aligue and
the tang of the kamias was
surprising and refreshing.
Then we were asked to stand
up and serve ourselves.
First was to the long table
where the “bayabaisse,” the
Tayags’ humorous take on the
bouillabaisse, was being
served. The dish consists of
a thick broth made from
mashed native guava (“We
refuse to call it sinigang
na bayabas because you might
expect sourness,” said Mary
Ann), into which one could
include slices of bangus
belly, ulang (river shrimp)
and vegetables. The other
long table served what my
husband dubbed “Pampango
shawarma,” actually a dish
that included influences
from various cultures:
tortilla onto which one
spooned re-fried slices of
lechon belly, topped with
kimchi, onions, tomatoes,
pesto and wansuy
(coriander).
* * *
BY THIS time, our bellies
were full to bursting, but
would you believe, we
heroically made room for the
main dish: sea food
kare-kare that came
presented in an attractive
arrangement of mussels,
squid and prawns in a bed of
vegetables and rich orange
sauce.
“Paradiso”
capped our meal, and I was
glad to find that it hadn’t
changed since I first tasted
it over a decade ago. Still,
the Tayags had one more
surprise for us: small
towels drenched in scented
water and frozen, giving us
a most refreshing close to
an epic epicurean
experience!
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