Moderna Reinvents Cacio e Pepe, Carbonara, and More Italian Dishes With Filipino Ingredients

(SPOT.ph) Italians tend to roll their eyes at Filipino-style spaghetti. It’s a culinary culture clash both parties mutually poke fun at—yet also quietly understand why it exists. After all, the sweet, tomato-based sauce spiked with banana ketchup and studded with slices of hot dog didn’t appear out of nowhere; it was born to suit the Filipino palate. And the same goes for other countries that have adapted foreign dishes to their own tastes.

With restaurant Moderna, the idea is less about “fixing” Filipino spaghetti or defending it from Italian side-eye. Instead, they've completely leaned into the fusion from a more modern, fine dining approach: What happens when you cook Italian dishes using Filipino ingredients?

Al Dente Food Group’s Donatello Montrone is taking a decidedly less by-the-(cook)book approach with Moderna—a pivot from the fresh pasta bar he previously ran at Al Dente. This is his interpretation of Italian cuisine, shaped by his time at a traditional Piedmontese steakhouse, his service in the Italian military, and more than a decade in the Philippines.

The space has an energetic, eclectic, and vibrant spirit. Your eyes will naturally gravitate toward the striking lighting installation of looping ribbons of warm light that zigzag across the room like glowing scribbles in midair. There's also the bright red neon lines tracing the outline of mano a borsa, the classic Italian “purse hand” gesture.

Once the initial visual rush settles, the rest of the room begins to reveal itself in layers. There’s a playful mix—a curated chaos—of colors and textures throughout: glossy cherry-red communal tables, black marble surfaces, plush velvet seating, and colorful woven chairs that feel intentionally mismatched. The red elements tie in with the bundle of dried peperone cursco, an Italian pepper Donatello imports, hanging by the wall near the open kitchen.

The room sets the tone for what comes out of the kitchen. Moderna’s dishes stay loyal to Italian technique, structure, and taste, but with the twist of switching to ingredients sourced from all over the Philippines. With Donatello leading a young team of chefs, the whole operation carries the same restless, creative energy as the room.

If there were to be the poster children for what the restaurant stands for, it would be the Cacio e Pepe (P600). Traditionally, the dish is built on just three essentials: pasta, Pecorino Romano, and black pepper. At Moderna, though, it takes a distinctly local turn. The Pecorino is swapped for Borracho cheese from Malagos; the sauce is enriched with coconut cream; the pasta is finished with tuyo crumbs; and the whole dish arrives with a scoop of Parmigiano gelato on the side. Then there’s the Duck Carbonara (P580), which reworks the Roman classic with duck eggs, pecorino, cured yolks, and pancetta, making it unapologetically indulgent.

The Braciola (P750) leans into comfort with a few thoughtful upgrades. Sirloin, from Mindanao, is stuffed with the usual braciola suspects—garlic, parsley, and Pecorino Romano—before being braised in a tangy, slightly chunky tomato sauce alongside smoky cured Lucanian sausages for two and a half hours. This is served with a smooth kamote purée that rounds everything out with a touch of sweetness.

Surprisingly, with Moderno's impressive take on meat and pasta, I personally loved the Fish of the Day (P1,100) and the Grilled Cauliflower Steak (P500) the most. During my visit, it was lapu-lapu—the skin was crisp from being pan-fried while the flesh stayed perfectly moist and juicy. The whole thing was slathered in a buttery, tangy kilaw-style beurre blanc, then brightened by drops of dayap oil plus a small cluster of pickled shallots, just in case one needed a palate reset.

And while cauliflower as a meat replacement isn't completely groundbreaking—it's something that's very well done with Moderna's Grilled Cauliflower Steak. The vegetable is cut crosswise so its florets stay attached to its core, then it's grilled to give it a deeper color and a light charred flavor, served on top of a fluffy pillow of cashew hummus and parsley oil, and topped with capers, cashews, and parsley.

When dessert arrived, it was hard to choose favorites between the Tiramisu (P400), Chocnut (P580), and the Taho (P350). They’re all excellent and honestly worth the sugar rush. But if your stomach, wallet, or basic self-control insists you pick just one, make it the Taho. This has corn-infused soy panna cotta instead of silken tofu, vin cotto (grape must or red wine reduced into a thick syrup of sorts) instead of arnibal, sago, and olive oil ice cream—it's familiar enough to register as taho, but fancy enough to pay 17–20x more than how much one would typically buy from a neighborhood taho vendor.

After you've tried Moderna's core appetizers, entrees, and desserts, you can always go back for their set menus. You can expect more creative dishes like the Adobo Raviolo, a single stuffed piece of raviolo swimming in garlicky, peppery adobo sauce. And remember those peperone cursco? They show up in dessert form with Crusco: paprika namelaka, sili chocolate crémeux, pistachio praline, and coconut ice cream.

Moderna's set menu changes quarterly and is priced at P3,700 per head. You can pair it with wine (recommended) by adding P1,300. Just a heads-up: prices may shift depending on what is included in the set menu.

Moderna is neither authentic Italian cuisine nor authentic Filipino cuisine. It's a modern take, as its name implies, on how food can change when it when it crosses regions and time zones—without bastardizing or disrespecting either tradition. It simply lets them meet halfway, and somewhere in that exchange—between Pecorino and Boraccho, between vin cotto instead of arnibal—something new starts to take shape.