I tried out this combination with a friend one late afternoon. Za's Café is a restaurant and coffee shop with a bakery attached to it. So naturally, when we entered the bakery side, trays of caramel cake, yema cake, ensaymada, pianono, and what looked like a long brazo de Mercedes were the first to greet us. Being an old landmark, the interiors are dated. It had honey-colored wooden walls, ceiling and windows, a mish-mash of paintings, and tiles that have seen the comings and goings of justices, lawyers, politicians and their guests.
They are Za's Café's main clientele during weekdays because of its proximity to the Supreme Court and Court of Appeals. They would be huddled in a corner table, distinguished in their suits and barongs, the ladies in their crisp blouses with gold pins.
And since this was my "F. Sionil Jose Food Trip," I ordered what he usually orders. The "hot chocolate" (as he called it in his column) was the thick, Spanish type (P75) and the ensaymada (P95), pressed flat and large as a saucer and grilled till warm. The grilled ensaymada is not listed on the menu but is available (just ask the waiter).
The pastry case at the back caught my eye (and heart). Lounging like starlets were cherry pies draped in golden lattice-top crusts, a lemon pie piled high with a bouffant of meringue, a serious-looking pineapple pie, and a cake with violet crumble (which I assume was ube). We tried the cherry pie (P180)–cheery red, juicy, sweet and tart, though the crust could use a bit more love.
Just as we were almost done with the ensaymada and pie, the National Artist entered in his familiar navy blue beret, a cane and an umbrella in tow. He and his friend barely looked at the menu because the waiter already knew what he'd order. And he sat by the window adjacent to our table, illuminated by the late afternoon sunlight, reflecting on the remains of day with his tsokolate eh.
