A soup came to open the party - a fish lip soup (P280) was as comforting as it gets. Thankfully it had good consistency, as it wasn't goopy thick, and was great with a touch of black vinegar. The old Chinese restaurant stalwart crispy salt and pepper squid (P350) was excellently seasoned and quite tender (and was that a hint of 5 spice I detect?) - a seemingly simple dish, but try finding one that won't give your jaws a workout. Fish Fillet Singaporean style (P350) were deep fried and doused in a sweet sauce of mangoes, onions, and red peppers - a welcome change from the usual suspect sweet dishes like sweet and sour pork, arguably the most ordered Chinese dish in the world (though one that is mouth wateringly delicious when done well.) Rock lobsters (locally known as pitik) were also fried up. These creatures, sometimes known as the "poor man's lobster" (though at P2,800/kilo, this is hardly for the poor Filipino man), were actually juicy and had deliciously sweet tasting meat. Dunked into some vinegar laced with chili, it was something that could give all other more expensive shellfish some serious competition.
One of their most popular signature dishes is eel (P1,000/kilo), cooked in a black bean and chili sauce (I remember this from my first time here - it was the only dish that really left any sort of impression on me). It's been said that people from all over come here just to eat this - something I can believe because it's a very interactive eating experience. Being a bit boney, one has to work a bit to extract the eel meat, at times Hoovering it a bit. The tender flesh, when mixed with the strong flavored black beans and that hint of sweetness and heat, is perfect with hot, steaming rice.
But my absolute favorite dish is President's oysters (P300 for a small order), served sizzling, and also in black beans and chili. It had taken on "wok hay" (the breath of the wok) or that fantastically tasty, smoky element of flavor that only a jet engine hot wok can produce. The tiny oysters had sides that had caramelized from the heat, producing all sorts of textures in your mouth--at times crunchy, at times juicy, mingling with savory black beans, and bits of pepper, and of course the underlying spiciness of chili sauce. I would go here just for this.
We ended our meal satiated, with my companions reminiscing of their lost childhood--of Sundays spent with their grandparents in Chinatown, almost always in the loving food clutches of the grand Presidents. I, on the other hand, felt a bit lost in all the revelry, because I had no rich memories of traversing this part of the city.
President has had its share of ups and downs in both food and service, just like any other restaurant. But it has survived decades of existence--a testament to its resilience against food trends. This was the food of the old school, staunch classics, the epitome of bygone years--and the restaurant itself, though decked out in new clothes, somehow still made one hear happy voices and clinking glasses and laughter from lauriats past.
After that meal, only one thing crossed my mind: I surely have to make up for lost time.
RATING: 3 out of 5 Spots ...
