After hearing about the homestyle Filipino fare at Manileño, we went in hoping for a plate of lutong bahay. Instead, we found a relatively small array of typical Filipino restaurant dishes and started to get uncharacteristically grumpy—until we took those first bites.
The family-owned restaurant is situated in the South Grand space that previously housed Snō and VP Square. The first floor is mostly a bakery, with a case full of extravagant cakes, cookies, and pastries. It’s a fantastic display of towering mango passionfruit cheesecake slices, slabs of calamansi-blueberry lavender biscotti, and Barney-hued ube macaroons. Ube, a purple yam with a flavor like vanilla-spiked nuts, is to Filipino cuisine what cheese is to France: part of the national identity.
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Climb an elegant set of old-hardwood stairs to the restaurant. The interior is minimalist, with a sleek bar, charcoal walls, and marble-top tables.
When we tried ordering the stuffed, cigar-rolled lumpiang gulay, co-owner Raquel “Rocky” Torio replied, “They’re too greasy. I don’t want to serve them tonight.” (Rocky opened the business in February alongside her brothers, Randy, Resty, and Rolando, as well as their mother, Josie Seele.) We appreciated the attention to quality. The difference between the lumpiang gulay and the lumpia Shanghai that we ordered instead is negligible; the former has more vegetables. The slender golden lumpia were hot and fragrant, with the skins crunching like the phyllo used in baklava.
Unless you know your diba from your agik, some tastes here might be elusive. For instance, in the bistek tagalog, the origin of that flavor you can’t quite place is calamansi. It’s citrus, something between a lemon and lime; along with soy sauce, it’s the marinade in which the beef cures. The meat is tender, something akin to a Korean bulgogi, and perfect with a side of rice.
That same calamansi lends a citrusy tang that elevates Manileño’s take on pancit, one of the signature dishes of Filipino cuisine. Slithery rice-flour noodles are tossed in a shiny mess with a splendid piquancy. The sourness of the fruit plays against a pungent fish-sauce broth, with a combination of textures in the spring noodles and nibbles of just-cooked carrots and celery; the addition of Chinese sausage giving it a satisfying weight.
Palabok is a regional cousin of basic pancit. Think of a particularly concentrated ragu of finely ground pork and shrimp, all stained cinnamon with achiote and spooned over noodles. Most pancit dishes have Chinese influences; palabok is pure Filipino in origin, the pride of every tita (aunt), and this one is superb, flavored with an umami-rich fish sauce and textured with bits of tinapa (smoked fish) and chicharron crumbles. It’s a must.
Filipino cooking treats pig like Rembrandt treated a canvas, and the pork adobo here is a minor masterpiece. In the Philippines, adobo came to rely somewhat on native preparations; vinegar and soy sauce give it flavors unique to the islands. Here, the leisurely braise coaxes out all the sweet juiciness of cubed pork. The menu mentioned pugo quail eggs as a garnish, though ours seemed distinctly chicken-ish—that aside, the dish was absolutely creditable.
The fish special changes regularly. On our visit, it was pompano in a sweet and sour sauce, festooned with red and green peppers and chunks of pineapple, which must be appealing to some palates. For us, however, it looked like a beautifully fried fish vandalized with sugary-sour gloppiness.
When we asked if the restaurant had dinuguan, our server checked with the kitchen and told us they could make it for us. Dinuguan, dark as iron, is a stew of pork blood, vinegar, and offal that’s pure Pinoy. It’s hearty, rich, and good. Manileño should consider adding it and other Filipino classics to the menu—and, to the burgeoning restaurant’s credit, the menu is evolving.
As for sweets? Consider a stop at the bakery on the first floor. Besides the aforementioned extravagant options, there’s turon—think of a cannoli stuffed with jackfruit and slathered with caramel sauce. It’s not to be overlooked, even if you’re just dropping by for one of the specialty coffees.
The menu offers wine suggestions, though you’re better off ordering a native beer, such as San Miguel. Cocktails are also a specialty; it’s as if Willy Wonka is tending bar, with wild, barely restrained concoctions. The drinks are just one more reason that Manileño is quickly becoming a gathering spot for those seeking a taste of the Philippines.
