Cariñosa at The Grid Puts Truffle in Pancit and It's Glorious
Bonus: Have you ever had Spanish bread with French butter?
Published on May 15, 2026
Cariñosa
Stall 19 at The Grid, Power Plant Mall, Makati City
Instagram: www.instagram.com/carinosakitchen
Open from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m., Monday to Friday; 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. Saturday to Sunday
(SPOT.ph) Ah, The Grid. Its bustle doesn’t start and stop with the lunch rush, and why would it? It’s home to a fluctuating number of stalls (20-ish, at the moment) and a couple of kiosks, one of many reservoirs of midday Makati gossip, and a daycare to some desperate laptops hoping to cross the writer’s block event horizon at last. If you think that last part’s just us—no, it isn’t, and we don’t wish it upon you.
All that to say, there’s something for a multitude of tastes and preferences at The Grid. But newly minted at Stall 19 is a welcome addition that’s somehow both out of left field and exactly what Rockwell needed more of.

Cariñosa opens at The Grid
There are few things more Filipino-coded than the quirky souvenir, and Cariñosa has that—and good food—in spades.
It’s almost comical to watch ourselves try to explain exactly what Filipino hospitality entails; we borrow many elements from trade and Western imperial influences, and the things that matter are often universal. Take merienda, for example—it’s a Spanish word for ‘afternoon snack,’ but prior to colonization we may not have necessarily made that kind of distinction between meals.
Still, you can trust Filipinos to make anything ‘borrowed’ extra special, especially when it comes to food.

The obvious thing you can’t miss is the Spanish Bread with French Butter Glaze (P440/six pieces); it’s a testament to our culture’s propensity for indulgence, in the most loving way. (Very cariñosa.) Chef and owner Jen Gerodias is someone who knows the importance of excellent bread, and it is very much showcased here, highlighted by the rich butter that mirrors everybody’s favorite component of Spanish bread.
“You know how it is when you want to show love,” shares the chef. “You want to give them more of the best part. That’s the heart of the concept—affection through food.”

There’s also that nod to nostalgia that we as a culture can’t seem to resist, and why should we? Yesteryear did have all the hits; Cariñosa doesn’t rest on old laurels, though. Take the Pancit Guisado with Pumpkin Monay (starts at P490); it’s not your lola’s pancit, that’s for sure, but it’ll still hit very close to home.
And maybe you feel a little lost at the words ‘pumpkin’ and ‘monay’ together, but worry not. All you get is some rich crumb, a moist pull (sorry to the ‘moist’ haters), and the perfect bread to sop up the remains of the guisado in question. The slivers of smokey-sweet sausage have rendered both fat and flavor into the bottom of the dish—it’s not to be overlooked.

Don’t scoff at the truffle option for the pancit (P570), either! Yes, we know, it’s very pre-2020 to put truffle on everything, but this is decidedly not the spray-and-pray technique of that unfortunate time in urban dining. This is a thoughtful dabble into complexity, richness meeting richness, and that distinct muskiness enhancing the weighty saltiness of the noodle dish.
Street-smart eats and pasalubong
There’s a rotating menu of tusok-tusok reliables, each serving priced at P290—Jen makes no show of ‘elevating’ them in any way that makes them anything other than what they are. Apart from the fishballs being made of seabass—which, oddly, does make a difference in texture—what diners ultimately get is that 4 p.m. snack available basically all day. Adding to the overall vibe is some bomb vinegar served on many a playful platito, reminiscent of the colorful creations you could get back in the day. (Today, you can try your luck at obtaining these at the retail triumvirate of Recto, Divisoria, and Quiapo.)
Crispy, crackly okoy or ukoy here at the stall has a tinge of sweetness that isn’t typical of the fried favorite, but also not unwelcome. In fact, it’s so good, you may feel zero compulsion to share or bring any home.
But you’d be hard-pressed not to find pasalubong for your loved ones here; for Gerodias, that’s half the point. “There are so many things [we make locally] that could die out for lack of connection,” she says. “There are likely still artisanal salt makers who don’t know that the city dwellers want the real deal.”
And in a way, wanting and serving ‘the real deal’ is what Cariñosa is all about. From tuba to lambanog, from asin tibuok to tultul salt, from guisado to truffle, the love that the chef and her team boast isn’t some esoteric concept. It’s a love that says, “We should appreciate what we have, demand the best of it, and give our best in return.”
Or, at least, that’s what we hope you take away from getting the good stuff.
Home sweet home

Speaking of which, you can’t miss out on the Truffle Honey Queso de Bola Ensaymada with Smoky Etag (P200). Although it sounds like the amalgamation of everything we’ve just touched on… well, yes, it is that and more. It’s got the good, fluffy aeration of classic ensaymada, punched up by two dynamic sources of smoke and salt (the queso de bola and etag, or sundried cured pork), then topped with almost-pungent honey and truffle.
If you luck out, too, the Merienda of the Day could be something extra decadent. Fortune was apparently smiling on us when we went to shoot and blessed us with the most luxurious version of Pancit Malabon that could ever exist, complete with runny quail egg on top.

It’s home cooking and distinctly not at the same time; who among us would go through all that trouble? It could only be a labor of love from people who know exactly what they’re doing, such that the pleasure one might get from eating here feels pointed—it feels a whole lot like some very, very obvious wooing.
Photos by Majoy Siason

If you’ve never been afraid of how much someone loves food, you’ve never met Michiko Manalang. She predictably has multiple cats; she less predictably can row 70 pounds.