Chef JP Anglo Shares 10 of His Favorite Holes in the Wall

(SPOT.ph) There are some strange but distinct divides in the world of dining. There are places piled with white tablecloths that require, inexplicably, an intimate knowledge of forks and the order in which to use them; there are those with tables that are somehow both neon and pastel, covered in linoleum and plastic for easy wiping, if wiping even gets to happen. But each end of this given spectrum and all of the notches in between have their role to play, and many times, the latter can win out in the eyes (or palate) of a seasoned expert.

Our ABC’s—Anglo, Bourdain, and Chicken

One of chef JP Anglo’s favorite haunts isn’t in between the shiny lobby of a bank and a row of designer stores. At this inasal corner shop—no longer Makati’s best-kept secret, thanks at least in part to Anglo’s vlogs—having lunch at lunchtime can be an impossible feat, akin to getting a perfect schedule at college enrollment. In fact, it’ll be a quarter past three before an empty chair manifests itself, disappearing again in the stream of happy customers before long. The people working the kitchen of Bacolod Chicken House Express seem pretty unfazed; they seem to know, with no semblance of shyness, that they’ve got a good thing going.

This isn’t merely an occasional treat that the Sarsa chef daydreams about when his own kitchens get hectic; Anglo is a regular on this corner just off of Chino Roces, usually on a weeknight. He’s mentally built a little universe where a designated seat puts him in the shoes of the late great Anthony Bourdain, or across the table from him—as he says, “Everybody’s got a Bourdain story.” They did get to meet, of course, but as with anyone who loves food and knows anything about the American chef and documentarian, the Venn diagram overlapped in ways that extended far beyond that encounter. (“It’s ironic that we’re sitting here now, like this, because Bourdain was surrounded by Filipinos,” Anglo recalls, “[to the point that] ‘yung anak niyang babae, for her birthday, would look for Jollibee spaghetti.”)

The idea that the smaller, more rugged eating establishments—many in the form of stalls and carts, even—have the ability to far outstrip the names in lights is not a new one. It isn’t only the takeaway that Bourdain himself seemed to keep harping on about in his travels and shows; it’s a life lesson that we, the dining public, will have to keep learning and relearning as restaurants and other culinary concepts come and go in years to come. These dingier dining spots are the dependables; it’s why you can find a chef whose pile of awards and accolades could rival a day’s dirty dishes in one of these holes in the wall, usually at the end of their own dinner service.

Also read: The Day Olivia Rodrigo Enjoyed a Boodle Fight by Chef JP Anglo

The charm of CHE

It’s easy to see why CHE is Anglo’s go-to; the smell alone conjures images of tender, marinated, just-charred meat and steaming white rice glistening with bright orange oil, and, to the more left-field of brain, of those cartoon hands made out of smoke and vapor that lure you in through the window. It’s familiar and comforting in an almost hilarious way that no tasting menu is ever going to be.

The surrounding imagery can be overlooked—most inner city streets are—but as with anything in the Philippines, you get rich layers of history if you squint. Sure, it’s about the same everywhere, in that there is always an older gentleman selling candy and cigarettes, two others selling racks of trinkets, a cart with a jug of buko juice across the street, a sari-sari store, a grocery probably less than a block down, and a bank; it’s definitely home to somebody and their patron saint.

Anglo puts on the plastic gloves provided—which he later eschews, because there’s nothing like eating with your hands, properly—and begins demonstrating the assembly of his meal, in the precise way he’s come to enjoy it most. He almost recites it (“I get extra garlic, a little extra salt, get that all over the rice…”) and performs each step with the muscle memory you could only get in a professional kitchen, plus the ease you can only acquire by being a relatively frequent internet headline. And that’s not to mention the sheer number of times he’s just been here.

“There is something about a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that can be so reflective of the community it’s in, or like… enables it to be a kind of hub,” says Anglo. “Look around here,” he gestures around the establishment and outside of it. “One of the parking guys, he’s always been good to me—pangarap niya raw maging [delivery rider], he just needed a cell phone. The guys here one day told me he got that phone! But then I came back, and he was still here… He had to sell it, his family needed money for something else.” It is simply one of the thousands of ups and downs of all the people who find themselves on this corner, for better or worse; people so different they may only have Bacolod Chicken House Express in common.

“There are so many walks of life that cross paths here; like, if the food is incredible, then nothing else matters. You’ll see people coming in after work, families and couples braving the dinner rush, whatever—and they barely hype this place up.” And at this juncture, Anglo looks a little sheepish. “I, uh, have been asked to stop featuring it, or at least minimize the air time sa videos ko,” he admits, “because when [anyone else] wants to eat here, they’re all out!”

Again, it’s not difficult to see exactly why. Anglo, who is clearly not only a chef but a certified eater, drizzles the chicken oil in the chicken drippings that have been left on the banana leaf—“another layer of flavor,” he notes sagely—before pouring it all on his rice. The result is smoky, rich, salty, garlicky—everything you could possibly want out of inasal—all for under 300 Philippine pesos, or about 5 to 6 U.S. dollars, depending on the day. But even without the skill of a master in the kitchen, CHE rides its own flavor train and hides behind nothing. One has to wonder how quickly someone can reasonably down a chicken leg and a little liempo (we know how to order, okay?) while still savoring every bite, but trust us: it’s quicker than you think.

Also read: The Spot.PH 50 Great Restaurants of 2024: Best of Manila and Beyond

Representing the homeland

“I come here to turn my brain off,” says the chef. “It’s like, if other people flop on the couch and turn on the TV, I come here and order. People come in and out, it’s almost never empty, there’s so much going on—it’s like white noise, kind of? But you also get really good inasal… it’s a saltier version, I have to note that, but still, incredible.” And while, indeed, there are many iterations of inasal at this point, nearly all of them can make their case.

So it is with holes in the wall—some of which are hawker stalls, i.e., with no walls to speak of. The range goes from ‘fully fledged carinderia tucked away between somebody’s house and a laundromat on a sleepy street’ to the genre of fried God-knows-what sold on the roadside—all of which have the same magical potential to restore one’s will to live, just as well as any fast food chain or hotel buffet. “This is how Bourdain liked to eat,” quips Anglo, “[and in this way] he would highlight the little people… He helped put [Filipino food] on the map, you know? He said lechon was the best pig he’d ever had, that sisig is a textural dish… Imagine if he could have sat somewhere like this—or here, right here, and had this inasal.”

To anyone else, it may sound strange; one thing we’ve learned in our years of observing the local food and agriculture scene is that what is ordinary to us may be complete magic to someone else. “Every nationality has a soft spot for us, because we’re everywhere, we take good care of people…. In other cultures, smiling is for the soft and weak. In our culture, it shows resilience; it’s strength. It’s like, whatever comes our way, we try to be happy.”

It is with this level of introspection that this chef—proudly Filipino, even more proudly Negrense—approaches food. From Makati’s Sarsa to Dubai’s Kooya, JP Anglo doesn’t put his own stamp on things as much as he carves out a seat for which to set the Filipino dinner plate, whenever and wherever he can. “It’s only my understanding of our food, but there are great Filipino chefs who grew up elsewhere… When I work with them, I notice how closely they observe me. And they tell me it’s because to them, in that moment, I represent the homeland. And that’s a lot of pressure,” he huffs, a touch wistful, “but things like that remind me of my purpose as a cook. And places like Chicken House remind me of how simple it can all be.”

10 of Chef JP's favorite holes in the wall 

Chicken House Express

Recommended by his friend, the chef Fernando Aracama, Chef JP has been coming to CHE for 15 years now, enjoying the inasal's saltier-than-usual flavor and its more pronounced smoky, charred quality. "I like how its so straightforward, no pretensions, just honest to goodness chicken inasal."  114 K Savana Market, Metropolitan Avenue, Makati City.

Tung Lo Wan’s

Cantonese eatery from the people behind SunMoon which was popular for their Crab Sotanghon. “Rough around the edges pero super spot on flavors,” says Chef JP of Tung Lo Wan’s. “Masarap talaga siya.” He’s also quite fascinated by owner Reggie who he describes as “quite a character.” To hear Chef JP say it, Reggie is as siga as his food. “Masarap talaga timpla nila.” What to order: Crab Sotanghon, lechon Macau, oyster cake, beef and tendon noodles. 199 Wilson Street, San Juan

Los Tacos MNL

“In my humble opinion, I’ve been to Mexico, [this is the] closest thing you can get here in Manila when it comes to tacos and Mexican influences. [Ang] galing kasi casual dining but chef driven.” Might be in a popular area (it was originally in Magallanes) but is sandwiched between two malls and not the easiest to spot inside its residential building address. Upper Ground Level, One Uptown Residences, 36th Street, Taguig

Morning Sun Carinderia

At the back of the old Hapag in Quezon City. Referred to Chef JP by the “Hapag boys” themselves who used to eat there and who might have been influenced by the eatery’s bolder flavor profiles. 120 JP Rizal Street, Project 4, Quezon City

717 Deli

“Not cheap but high quality sandwiches done by this kid who might not have gone to cooking school but is just obsessed and driven and passionate about his craft.” One of Spot's Great Restaurants of 2024. 53 Connecticut Street, San Juan, Metro Manila

Now now

“Across the board fun casual dining but somehow cerebral—but masarap.” Another one of Spot’s 50 Great Restaurants of 2024. Known to use a lot of fermentation and a lot of preparation and experimentation with its food. 497-C Rosa Building, Calbayog cor L. Esteban Street, Mandaluyong

Hocto Place Restaurant

“If you want good Cantonese food,” says Chef JP, this is where to go. 745 Banawe Street, Sta. Mesa Heights, Quezon City

Banh Mi Manila

Really good Vietnamese sandwich with a baguette that's crunchy on the outside and soft inside. Owned by a couple who opened the business at the back of their garage in Quezon City. "Alam na alam nila ang ginagawa nila," says Chef JP in his vlog. 125 D Cordillera Street, Sta. Mesa Heights, Quezon City

Jumong

“This Korean restaurant in Poblacion always hits the spot.” 5650 Don Pedro Street, Makati City

Huey Ying Restaurant

“Just good Filipino-Chinese seafood dishes—Tempura, clams with Tausi, etc.” Hobbies of Asia, 8 Diosdado Macapagal Blvd., Pasay City