Liyab Is a Rekindling of Charles Montañez's Burning Love for Creative Tasting Menus
The strategic use of fire and Filipino nostalgia are at the heart of his new BGC restaurant.
Published on Jan 6, 2026
Liyab
Roof Deck, W Highstreet Building, Bonifacio Global City
Contact: 0929-633-4994
Instagram: www.instagram.com/liyab.restaurant
Open from 5:30 p.m. to 12 a.m. (two seatings per night: 5:30 and 8:30 p.m.), Tuesday to Sunday
(SPOT.ph) The statue of a phoenix stands by the doorway to Liyab, its head tilted upward, seemingly mid-roar; its wings spread out, as if about to launch itself toward the sky. A mythological bird present across ancient Egyptian, Greek, and Middle Eastern cultures, the phoenix is known to live long, at least 500 years per lifetime; and to cyclically regenerate— dying by catching on fire from its nest and being reborn in the very ashes left behind.
Much in the same way we find a revived Chef Charles Montañez at his latest restaurant—a place highly personal to the young chef, where he returns to doing creativity-driven tasting menus on the regular.
What to try at Liyab in BGC
We've been following Montañez’s career for a while now. In particular, we saw his great hand at degustations and high-level cooking at Alegria Manila—he joined its parent restaurant group Gruppo Alegria in 2017 as founding chef—until he made his departure from the company in late 2023.
In a 2024 interview with SPOT.ph, he talked about wanting to open a more personal dining spot that would serve degustations and allow him to focus on the pure craft of cooking. While construction and preparations for the said place went on, he opened Mamacita with the folks of Dr. Wine; it made its mark in Burgos Circle with à la carte tacos and other festive Latin-American plates. But there remained a burning desire within Montañez to bring the dream of Liyab to life; and come to life it did, opening its doors in Q4 of 2025.
Buzzy as the topic of the restaurant might be in local food circles since its launch, Liyab doesn't scream for attention. It’s rather hidden in fact, located as it is on the roof deck of the W Highstreet Building (not to be confused with the other W buildings around BGC) that’s accessible only through a service elevator. Brass tones dominate the walkway, lending a regal feel to the space. The look is brought back to earth by the wooden surfaces and mottled textures on the walls. The phoenix directs you into the dining room—a space that’s cozy despite the high ceiling, from which hang wisp-like lamps that resemble smoke.
The central motif here, as one might guess from its name (liyab is Filipino for “flame”), is fire—the element that powers the rendering of the plates across the restaurant's lineup. But while the notion of playing with fire evokes the image of going loud and turning up the heat to the maximum, Liyab opts for a softer burn—but one that's sustained, strategic and controlled.
We see this in the muted lighting: coming from the kitchen is a soft glow that gently illuminates the dining space. Present throughout the interiors are warm, golden tones—a shift from the high-contrast, vivid colored visuals of Montañez’s other ventures. We also see it in the way the chef constructs his dishes: the ideas are bold and the impact strong, but flavors are balanced, with compositions done in such a way that each element is intentionally there, their best characteristics brought out by the kiss of heat from the fire.
“We were very intentional about our approach [at Liyab],” Montañez tells us. “We wanted to challenge the idea that open-fire cooking has to feel rustic all the time, something that’s often used to hide imperfections. Instead, we aimed to present fire as a powerful element used with clarity and control.” Over at the kitchen, you’ll see the Liyab team using fire in different ways, grilling, smoking, roasting, stewing, broiling, and stir-frying meats, fish, and veg to form the parts that are then assembled together for the diners' meals.
Joining forces with fire is time—time in the form of curing, preserving, and fermenting local produce and kitchen scraps into a range of misos, amino pastes, garums, and more, made in-house. Ingredients, he explains, are cured through controlled salting, suspended smoking by hanging, and other multi-stage processes incorporating grilling, roasting, and smoking at different points “to build depth and structure.” These then form their core flavor components, lending their respective tastes and textures to the plates across the menu.
“[With the strategic use of fire], it’s almost like saying that we’ve finally learned how to harness the element for our benefit, rather than letting it dictate the outcome,” says Charles.
Dishes are finished tableside, with members of the team sharing the stories behind each plate while they're at it. Photo by Pol Divina, courtesy of EAT Public Relations
Shavings of cured beef heart—just one of the preserved components the Liyab team makes in-house. Photo by Pol Divina, courtesy of EAT Public Relations
The young chef admits his vision for Liyab has evolved since our 2024 interview—in particular, it’s shifted from being centered around him as a chef to putting more consideration on the diner experience. “Back then, I was eager to open the restaurant with a very chef-driven, creative approach," Charles tells us. "But after so many delays, I had time, the privilege to see other restaurants, attend dinner events, and that experience made me realize how important it is to build an experience and menu from the diner’s perspective.”
This comes through in a number of ways, chief among them the way Charles prioritizes “accessibility” to an even larger extent this time around. “Despite all the creative curiosity behind the work, we’re being especially mindful that we remain easy to understand,” he explains. “Being able to communicate our intent clearly matters, because when people can understand it, they’re able to connect with it. The way people would feel during a tasting menu meal is very important.”
There, too, is a notable use of theatrics throughout the meal, with the team finishing each dish by the diners’ tables—torching, saucing, embellishing the compositions in some way, while explaining the stories behind them. Charles' thoughtfulness and eye for detail extends to the tableware used: intricate bowls and plates that match the motif of the course; handcrafted knives by Nacionale Bladeworks in a spectrum of colors; even a visually arresting spoon rest with the figure of a phoenix.
After a dramatic intro that has the team setting the menu card ablaze to reveal the lineup, they get to work on serving the plates that comprise it. Though Montañez is best known for his great handle on Latin-American cuisine that's well apparent at Mamacita, at Liyab, he presents more Filipino flavors and ingredients, drawing from his mom’s cooking and other memories the chef holds dear. “[The inspiration for the menu] I got from my mom. These are the flavors that she’s exposed me to."
Contemporary interpretations aside, there’s a hominess to the dishes on the lineup, particularly in its first two numbers. The first course takes after bulalo, carrying its warmth and richness with a broth enriched with bone marrow butter then spooned over thin slices of ox tongue; five-month beef garum jelly; and soft, sweet corn custard. The stir-fried comfort of Pepper Lunch beef rice inspires the second course, which has the sea urchin from Sagay City and strips of F1 Wagyu sirloin over Kampot pepper-spiked tinigib (Visayan white corn), finished with salty, smoky shavings of cured beef heart.
There’s the decidedly smoky dish of botan ebi, torched tableside for a charred exterior. Radish balls in dalandan ponzu lend zing; prawn “tea” acts as a warm component; and Blackbird Farms blue goats’ milk ice cream brings in cool, creamy contrast. Liyab-fied street snacks follow: BBQ-style skewers of beef and pancetta with pickled papaya and vinegar jelly; squid balls with a crisp-airy bite, stuffed with taba ng talangka and adorned with manggang hilaw in bugnay wine; and crispy tawilis fillets in a coconut-kinchay crust.
The flavors of the Filipino ‘Ber months make their way to the menu through a palate cleanser of a sampaloc granita, nata tinged with pineapple, and salty strips of ham. A plate of aged grouper follows, the succulent fillet hugged by a silky layer of lardo that just about melts into the fish. Rounding out this part is an ensalada of smoked cherry tomatoes, a puree of ginisang monggo, and embellishments of bihod and fish skin chicharon.
Mains are served salo-salo style, with viands, sides, and rice placed in the center, designed to be shared. There’s pork adobo braised in vinegar and its own fat—its caramel hue a product of the smoke from the slow cooking process— paired with a thin, crackly layer of chicken skin. A skewer of beef longganisa is molded around a rib, its glossy surface flaunting grill marks from being wood-fired and its juicy meat interior perfectly matched by the pineapple vinegar it’s served with. There’s market fish (apahap in our case), aged for two days for a meatier bite and grilled in a banana leaf. The ever-essential rice comes in the form of two heirloom varieties from Negros: black and red, both given a flavor boost with seafood. Sides utilizing seasonal produce lend variety to every couple of bites: balao-balao gone umami with squash miso; marinated cucumber atsara; and rich, nutty santol sa gata.
The team continues to surprise in the dessert department. A vivid pink composition of a strawberry granita, toasted milk ice cream, pili, brownie bits, and Pop Rocks (which make a crackling sound reminiscent of firecrackers) evokes the whimsy and nostalgia of streetside iskrambol. Mignardises round out the meal, with the team presenting playful takes on well-loved candies: caramel candies made with goats’ milk from Bulacan; burnt coconut polvoron with puffed heirloom rice; bonbons of gooey pumpkin seed caramel in dark chocolate; and five-flavor gummies infused with strawberry, guava, dalandan, ginger, and orange.
Looking back at the interview with Charles in early 2024, his zeal was undeniable even over the phone as he walked me through his detailed vision for the place. We talked for a bit over half an hour, with Charles geeking out about the layout, the design, the menu, the food, and the experience he wanted to convey. Actually making those plans a reality was no easy task—but seeing the spectacle that is Liyab now, it’s hard not to be in awe of the sheer dedication of the chef and his team. He's no doubt ready to fly out, not unlike the phoenix figure that welcomes guests into the space they’ve worked so diligently to build—and have run every day since it was finally birthed. “I’ve been waiting for this, and it feels right,” he says. “There’s pressure, but it’s the good kind that keeps me excited about what’s next and how we will continue to move forward.”
For Trish, food is as much a source of pleasure and fuel as it is an outlet for creativity; a medium by which stories can be passed on; and a way to connect with others.