Chinatown: Manila and Kuala Lumpur

A friend whose family has been in the restaurant business for over thirty years once remarked that wherever in the world you go, Chinatown is the same. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen all. You know, hawkers galore, thick crowds, noise and, well, filth. She’s right. But she’s also wrong. My friend dislikes Chinese food, probably never learned to appreciate the nuances or to separate well-cooked Chinese dishes from mediocre ones and she judges every Chinatown by their generic feel and look. Truth is, Chinatown food experiences can vary greatly.

Take, for instance, my Chinatown street food experiences. The first time I ate at Manila Chinatown’s (in)famous estero stalls, I was in high school, my father promised me a wonderful dinner but warned me not to mind the not-too-pretty surroundings. It was my introduction to street food and it was a heady escapade. Back then, real Chinese cooks prepared the dishes and the menu was filled with items not often found in regular restaurants. In short, back then, eating at Manila Chinatown’s estero food stalls meant enjoying real street food.

Last Sunday, my family together with my Balikbayan in-laws and their families went to Chinatown to buy goodies from Salazar Bakery which the Balikbayans would bring back to Chicago. We had merienda cena in Tagaytay earlier but it was a light meal and, by 9.00 p.m., people were craving for food. Why not? We were already in Chinatown “� is there a better place to get good food? I suggested President Restaurant (no, it hasn’t folded up despite rumors) where the food is always great but someone suggested the esteros. Again, I thought why not? I hadn’t eaten at the esteros in ages. We were excited and we were all ready for a great late-night chow.

When the dishes started to arrive, we were all smiles, swapping jokes, snapping photos and making everyone pose with the food (in the photos above, my sisters-in-law: Bing displays the beef with broccoli; Ava takes a helping of battered chicken). Sadly, most of the dishes were better ogled than eaten. The broccoli in the beef and broccoli stir fried dish was terribly overcooked “� boiled, it seemed, rather than blanched. The battered chicken was swimming in yellowish oil which, judging by the taste and smell, was Star Margarine. The soup was so thick with starch that Ava remarked it looked like Jell-O.

Two months ago, I was in another Chinatown in a different part of Asia. There were so many food stalls and the variety of dishes was just amazing. Lunch at Tang City Food Court on Petaling Street in Kuala Lumpur’s Chinatown was a much better experience than what we had last Sunday.

The interesting thing is that according to the habitues of the KL’s food scene, the even better street food hawkers only come out after sundown when the real feasting begins. If what we had “�

…roast duck…

…steamed spicy fish…

…and stewed pork face “� were just icing on the cake, I probably would have stuffed myself silly if, instead of lunch, we had gone to Petaling Street at night. Roast ducks aren’t even available in all Chinese restaurants in Metro Manila. In many other places in Southeast Asia “� including Singapore, Taiwan and Malaysia “� you’ll find them in humble food courts alongside the more curious — to use a euphemism — hawker food.

My friend Osang (in the photo above with the roasted ducks) and I feasted.

Manila’s Chinatown has always been among my favorite food haunts. But, these days, unless you go to the decades old establishments that continue to thrive by virtue of their unsullied reputation for consistently churning out good chow, the quality of food in Chinatown can be as unpredictable as tropical weather. Too bad, really.