NY’s Michelin-Recognized Tadhana Is Finally Home in Manila

(SPOT.ph) When we get to visit Tadhana just in time for their family meal, the door opens to the clockwork flurry of organized chaos one can expect of most restaurants pre-service. Different members of the team are coming in at 10- to 20-minute intervals, and—perhaps most notably—leaving no one un-greeted.

“Part of the culture I wanted to establish here is we do one small thing every working day that makes sure everybody has seen everybody,” says Chef Frances Tariga, Spot’s Chef of the Year 2025. “So they’re required to make the rounds when they come in.”

This new homestead for the Michelin-awarded Filipino fusion concept is no transplant from New York, despite initial appearances; it’s less a second branch and more of a second coming, in a sense. “Things work so differently here,” she says, almost with a sigh. “And definitely not in a bad way. I’ve been around… I can say the drive and talent here in the Philippines in terms of F&B is next-level.”

Giant fish that require delicate handling are presented to Tariga for inspection; tablecloths are counted aloud as they’re being steamed to willowy perfection; “Kaya ko na ‘to, chef,” is said with confidence on the occasion that she does check. As I look over the tornado of prep, I find that the chef barely watches—there is little need to. “Ako lang ‘yung tamad dito,” she jokes. But this is clearly not the case, as evidenced by the almost determined joy there is to her whole team.

The staff fill plates for us when they notice we haven’t lined up for the meal; we were honestly waiting for everyone else to eat first, but it speaks to their instinct for hospitality. “I’m so glad it’s becoming a thing here,” says Tariga. “You guys did a piece on it, right? Loved it. We use family meal here as research and development for the next season’s menu—medyo matagal pa ‘yun, but trust we’re working on it!”

If that prime rib plate and this season’s lineup (P6,500++) are any indication, we have much to look forward to. 10 courses, to be exact, not counting the palate cleanser and the double whammy of dessert, which would actually bring it up to an unholy 12. (Tadhana top tip: Wear loose clothing. Seriously.)

It starts with Binatog and Pakwan, but don’t be deceived by the commonplace names. Both kick the tasting menu off to a strong start. The Binatog deviates from its usual street-food form, here a corn tortilla cradling a foam of nutty, savory-sweet comté cheese and a pungent waft of truffle, ending on a high note with super-fine shavings of coconut. The Pakwan is smokey—almost meaty, even—on a crispy rice cake with the guttural sweetness of honey and miso together.

Kwek-kwek follows; the telltale neon of the crunchy annatto crust would give it away if the name hadn’t already. Neither the smoked ikura (salmon roe) nor the roughage on top overpower the creamy egg, and you definitely won’t miss the vinegar—it’s dusted over the top. On the other hand, the Ensalada looks nothing like it sounds—but fans of the eggplant dish on which it’s based won’t be disappointed, especially as those familiar flavors are offset by a smudge of mulberry jam.

For those who are already fans of Tariga’s work, the words Kilaw and Sinuglaw are major hints that you’re in for something special—she does not play about these particular cooking techniques. The Kilaw in question is sawara (Japanese Spanish mackerel) in a rich dressing made with pili nuts, then brightened with touches of pomelo, kamias, and olives. Once you clear that plate (and you will), you’re treated to tender wagyu and refreshing tomato nata over a dollop of egg-yolk jam, blanketed by a jelly disc dusted with edible gold—definitely not your typical sinuglaw, but one you won’t forget in a hurry.

The meal ventures further into the ocean with the Gina-tan, a play on ginataan. While you’re probably expecting coconut custard and squash to play their respective roles, what you might not see coming are the delicate shreds of blue crab, enriched by a seafood velouté (a thickened broth) and topped with kaluga caviar for that extra salinity. We almost wish we could soak up the last dregs of it with the following course—the Tinapay is a laminated cornbread made with local tinigib, accompanied by a gutsy tinapa mousse and dalandan-sherry marmalade.

Between the Sinigang sa Bayabas and the Tocilog, it’s hard to say which is more aggressively Pinoy. Since we’d been in long before service, we got a preview of the former—guava does tend to leave a wall of scent at a certain stage—but still were ill-prepared for the combination of tender maya-maya (mangrove snapper), the extra sour kick from batuan, and the crazy addition of whipped gabi. That last bit starts off relatively airy, but quickly dissolves to thicken the juices of each bite you take.

The Tocilog is another one of those items that looks nothing like what you might have had in mind, but trust Tariga and her team to bring out the best in squab—rather an ingredient-of-the-moment, at time of writing. It’s an incredibly sophisticated plate; the tare is an almost sticky glaze on the dark meat, allowing the ‘silog’ element—furikake—to stick. Paired with a pinakurat kosho (like an intense citrus condiment) and simple cubes of singkamas, it cycles the diner through almost every flavor imaginable.

And that’s where the Kamias Granita comes in. It’s what it says on the tin, plus some crushed seasonal fruit, all at once refreshing and sobering. It prepares you just enough for the next course, Inihaw at Gulay—perhaps the most bougie inihaw you’ll ever have. Beautifully charred Iberico secreto just about falls apart under a fork (the knife is for show, honestly), revealing pickled pinakbet, and accented by a sweet but just-short-of-intense banana mole.

Full disclosure: The first time I had this dinner, I thought the meal ended with the Caimito Guyabano Sorbet. It most certainly does not, however invigorating it is both in terms of taste and visuals—it’s got that forbidden fruit from a witch’s cauldron vibe with the dry ice, an effect that Tariga doesn’t underutilize in the least. Plus, there’s that fun crispy bit on the top to crack for that crème-brûlée kind of satisfaction.

Where it does end is with the petits four: Mango, Maja Blanca, Turon, and Pili, preferably in that order. If you thought that Philippine desserts were one-note in any way, this is where you’ll find yourself glad to be proven wrong. The different textures (and even temperatures) each work to create a memorable end to the meal.

One thing you might notice while dining here is how well your servers—yes, multiple—know the meal. They know that menu up and down, to such an extent that they could switch tables at any time, for any reason, and your experience goes on uninterrupted.

That’s because they’ve tasted the recipes themselves, which is apparently not a standardized thing in restaurants similar in caliber to Tadhana.

“I want them to know how good it’s supposed to be,” Tariga says. “I didn’t want them to think of their work as separate from the food, or removed from what you as the diner are feeling. It’s why family meals are also R&D.”

It’s both commendable and efficient; though there’s ostensibly some extra cost to that, it’s an investment she’s willing to make. She continues: “The trouble is that a lot of these guys are so talented, but they wanted to stage for, like, a year.” To stage (“stahj”), for the uninitiated, is to essentially audition as a chef—a mutual ‘test run’ of sorts between the hopeful and the restaurant, which is typically understood to not be a paying gig.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in it, but after a point, you gotta pay people for their work and talent,” she adds, in perhaps the most sober tones I’ve ever heard her in. “This team wants to be here, and they make sure I know it. I’m so grateful for that. We keep work and everything else separate, sure, but this is not just a job to them. Which is great, because this is not just a job to me.”

So what she does believe in is that people make their own destinies, which is quite literally the story of her own life, and of her food: “I know there’s ‘discourse’ about Filipino food. I think the bottom line is we should freaking own it. We’ve come this far, right?”

Photos by Majoy Siason