bfast finishes. last.

Disclaimer: The author is in no way connected to Chef Rolando Laudico, the BFast All Day Breakfast Café, or the Chef Laudico Culinary Services. The following article is written as a narration of the personal experience of the author and is in no way fully indicative of the experience of BFast as a whole. The incident transpired during their soft opening last last month, December 1 2010.

I found myself wondering about Ayala Triangle in anticipation of the launching of the Symphony of Lights at the Ayala Triangle Gardens. To pass time waiting for the program to start, I decided to have a light and early dinner at one of the newly-opened concessionaires that flank the periphery of the gardens. Set up as a dining/ F & B strip along the side of the old Makati Stocks Exchange, I cozied up to one of the nearby establishments with a clear view of the park's grandiose piazza, providing ample vantage point when the program begins, as well as generous opportunities for more voyeuristic objectives.

The culinary canvass of choice that night was Chef Laudico's BFast: All-Day Breakfast Café. Being a massive fan of the ubiquitous silog meal, a classic staple of Filipino street fare, to say that I was pleasantly excited would be a gross understatement. This, however, does come with copious levels of cynicism and critiquing if their spin on this well-loved fare would fare well against the more inexpensive and quotidian options peddled by our beloved colloquial and semi-ambulant concessions.


Sitting down at the first outdoor table before the door, I pondered on the verbose menu with hesitation as to which viand tickled my taste buds that evening and settled on the Kalog spread, a platter that included a sweet potato and caramelized onion hash with the BFast cheese sauce, a choice of egg preparation, and one of the house toppings. Being a tad adventurous that night, and wanting to somewhat challenge the culinary mettle of the establishment, I chose the Fried Chicken Adobo (crispy boneless chicken in special adobo gravy) and requested my egg to be poached instead of the usual sunny-side up. The adobo is a beloved, albeit defining, dish for me, growing up from a household whose versions of adobo could easily satiate the spectrum of tastes. The poached egg was a dare to the chef, as perfectly executing one requires considerable skill and timing.

As I paid for my food at the counter I was curtly notified of the self-service protocol of the café, which I personally did not mind, and noted a growing line of would-be patrons slowly and claustrophobically invading the frugal aisle between the counter and the seating area. I returned to my seat and lit a cigarette as I waited for my food to arrive, all the while sightseeing the evening crowd that included the typical semi-catatonic or epileptic yuppies straight from the battlefields, the expected pre-graveyard-shift BPO professionals and their technocratic sensibilities, a few artsy types sprinkled for good measure, the health-conscious in their skin-tight workout apparel, couples on light fidgety dates, the high-brow ladies clad in chunky seasonal garb, and the boisterous and somewhat rowdy families complete with yaya’s in-tow.

To proclaim that the crowd is eclectic is insufficient. Apparently this launching was well-marketed and publicized, with minimal hoopla, largely from a by-word-of-mouth approach. Of course, it doesn’t discredit the fact that the Ayala Triangle Gardens is now an established by-pass-cum-shortcut route to the greater CBD area, with the informal public transport terminal located right in front of the Ayala Tower One arch.


The Good

The interiors were done in an understated wood cladding, using presumably recycled or salvaged wood. From the texture and grain it’s quite possibly palo china or a close relative of the modest balsa. Although the wood gave a more ranch-Adirondack ambience, the cove-lit lemon walls were contrasted by oversized white warehouse lighting inlaid with a warm pink glow. The lemon seems to be an odd choice, giving the place a jaundiced gloom, but the prudence in the lines made it understated. The stripes of the counter’s rear wall reminded me of patisserie wallpaper, while the floor was a brutalist ode counterpoint in concrete.

The tables and chairs where topped with the same supposedly reclaimed wood, defining a more coherent esthetic, while the other chairs where upholstered in repurposed corduroy denim in pale salmon, casualties of seasons past, some in ottoman configurations while others in a back-rested weaved alternative. I particularly liked the wood-stump seating where I sat, a throwback to 70’s Baguio chic. The framing of the furniture also remained frugal, wrought iron and black-painted.

All in all the esthetic of the interiors appealed much to my minimalist palate, with particular kudos to the choice of finishes that espoused ecological soundness, despite the lack of a more comprehensive palette and a rather self-righteous proselytizing with their sizeable posters.


The Bad

After what seemed like eons of unproductive contemplation, my food finally arrived, with very little fanfare if I may add. I noticed how the tables that were seated after me, the amigas who seemed to be friends with the chef-on-call, whom she greeted with a generous visit at their table, got their food in earnest. While I, in my lonesome, got mine a good half an hour later. Is there partisanship in the serving of the food? Or was it simply part of being a Filipino café that preferential treatment came with the generous portions?

The Kalog Meal was presented on clunky plasticware/ picnicware, which I later on found out to be from the eco-friendly brand Preserve, reminiscent of juvenile cafeteria altercations with negligible gustatory memories. The house water was also served in the same cantina-ware, sans the necessary stains and chips. The idea of using eco-friendly cutlery and servers is a noble one, although the esthetic itself of the brand employed seems to cheapen the food, compounded by its stale interiors and the lackluster manner of the food's plating. I am all for minimalism and discipline, but there is a fine line between minimal and deficient.

Once my food arrived, the first thing I noticed is how the egg atop the hash is not poached, but a rather overdone (burnt on the edges) sunny-side up. I notified the waiter and reminded that I specifically requested a poached egg. He seemed perturbed and lightly irritated that I pointed out something as, to him maybe, seemingly innocuous and insignificant. Mustering to abate any indignation, I requested the egg be replaced with a poached one. He took the plate and trailed off into the kitchen.

A few minutes later he returns. Presenting the same plateful of debauched disorder pretending to be a gourmet interpretation. And to my surprise, the same overdone sunny-side up was still there, sans the burnt edges. What was left is essentially the stiff yolk and a morsel of the white. No underside. No edges. An inch and a half left-over of a once proudly charred egg. The obvious reaction would be to reprimand him or request a word with the manager currently present (but absent-minded) in the premises. But being of a more amenable mood because of the Christmas season and the awe-inspiring light show, I induced a more agreeable reaction, and was able to excrete a pathetic excuse for gratuity to him.

Now that the somber excuse for a meal fronted me, I proceeded to investigate the contents of this culinary conundrum by systematically assessing the contents of the spread.


The hash, a sweet potato and onion jullienne topped with the signature BFast cheese sauce, is a masterclass of unhealthy cooking. Thorougly slathered in oil, the hash began releasing its cholesterol-laden gift the moment the plate hit the table. With a texture akin to rubber tire left-overs dried beneath the desert sun, the hash required more than the usual chewing to force down my throat. Its hardened and cold quality ruminates the chilliness of the park's holiday air. The cheese sauce was no more appetizing. Coagulated and sloppy, it dribbled along the hash with buttery satisfaction, tasting more of cream and butter than actual fromage. The chicken adobo itself was properly cooked, it was tender and without bloodied insides, yet lack the garlic and aroma of a classic adobo. The supposed adobo sauce, well-publicized in the menu and by the counterfolk, is nothing more than the vinegar-soy sauce-oil mixture that all adobos are cooked in. Disappointment would be euphemistic at this point.

Wanting desperately to deny the incumbent irritation from the catastrophe of my dinner, I proceeded to ravage and consume the regretful excuse for a gourmet meal that was in front of me, conceding to the cheerful tone of the season. It would be excusable, I thought, since they were on the first week of a soft opening. But, a decent restaurateur would be educated enough to know that during a soft opening, what is being evaluated for improvement and efficiency is the operations, and not the food itself, which for all intents and purposes should have been set and well-practiced by whoever was wielding the pan that evening. I am no gourmand nor am I a culinary connoisseur, but having a longstanding love affair with food, I’d like to believe that my palate is experienced enough to distinguish good from garish, and great from gross.


The Ugly

The concept of Chef Laudico’s BFast: All-Day Breakfast Café seems simple enough; reinvent the well-loved Filipino breakfast staples and offer them as all-day meals. The idea in itself is not a wholly novel one, since silog places and pares-paresan’s are a dime a dozen in this country, its upper hand would have been the successful modernization/ deconstruction (and reconstruction)/ reinterpretation of said staples, elevating the humble street fare to Miele-noteworthy heights. To further push the envelope of this concept, it was conveniently packaged in this decade’s trademark catchphrase “sustainable.” By supposedly offering value-for-money cuisine set in low-environment impact environs and using sustainable preparation and produce, the all-day breakfast café becomes an advocacy culinary campaign, using nostalgia and that umbrella-phrase of sustainability (a supposedly modern eco twist) to elicit favorable patronage from the Makati CBD demographic.

The idea is actually quite good, imbibing local food with a global idea like eco-friendly cuisine and sustainability. But where BFast fails is translating this idea into actual practice. Going through their menu one would notice ingredients such as Valrhona chocolates (in their flourless chocolate cakes) and US Angus beef in their tapa’s, as well as imported fruits, beans and Belgian chocolate. These ingredients, being sourced abroad (as opposed to locally or regionally available alternatives) would entail shipping them, and thus adding to the net carbon footprint of the product. One of the things to consider when doing truly sustainable food is sourcing produce and ingredients locally or even regionally, a primary requisite for minimizing its effects on the environment. Not to mention, not all items in the menu are actually local dishes; some like the Eggsaymada is gentrified version of a continental classic (in this case, the egg’s benedict). Sustainable means minimal time and distance from source to plate, not an exotic smorgasbord of popular foreign ingredients injected into local fare, presumably making the latter upscale.

In theory, the concept of the BFast: All-Day Breakfast Café is one replete with such high hopes and great promise, to modernize Filipino breakfast favorites into natural and eco-friendly gourmet delights. However, we must learn to use such a catchall category with a lot more discretion and sincerity. Yes, the interiors are well-done, bravado cast in a environmentally-sound interpretation, but sustainability and eco-amiableness must go beyond the superficial architectural treatment and choice of cutlery (which, coincidentally, is also sourced abroad thus adding to the carbon footprint as well), but all the way down to the food being served; from its ingredients and their sources to the cooking techniques employed. This is known as full-cycle systems, or understanding how holistically the business (and product) will be impacting the environment. And, it doesn’t hurt too that the food tastes decent.

There is a fine line between marketing and propaganda. To sell an idea and a brand of being a particular quality and philosophy does not make it as so. It requires indignant, perseverant and holistic attention to detail to create an experience that truly embodies a philosophy and a lifestyle. The sustainability movement is an application that cannot be bought and imported, but a paradigm shift that must be catalyzed from the grassroots to the grand.

Without conviction, it could easily be misrepresentation.

Great food doesn’t come fast; in fact the unhurried preparations are usually the healthiest and most organically and environmentally sound. Be what you represent. If you really are what you present yourself to be, people will know, and patronage will follow.

Image from here.
Listing of BFast All Day Breakfast Cafe in ClickTheCity is here.
The official website of Chef Laudico is here.