A "Wok" Around Binondo

A few weeks ago, while looking for some kind of guided tour to take, I stumbled upon

 “Old Manila Walks”—a company that professes to take you through an urban 

adventure of Manila. They offer six types of tours and the one that caught my eye is called “The Big Binondo Food Wok: Nibbling our way around Chinatown.” A food tour? Of course, I’m in. I’ve always wanted to explore Manila’s Chinatown as it is a place that we were often

discouraged to visit because of the traffic and the congestion on its streets that often make cab drivers hesitant to travel there unless you are willing to pay more than the metere

d fare. But I’ve always known it as a place 

where one can get some pretty good noodles, siopao (steamed buns), and hopia (uniquely “tsinoy” (local term for a Filipino Chinese) mung bean pastry). Its Ongpin Street is also a place I remember that my mom would visit to buy jewelry.  As I read the site description, I realize that one of the guides is Ivan Man Dy, who, fortuitously, is the same guide that took Tony Bourdain through Binondo’s streets on the much-awaited coverage of the Philippines on No Reservations.  A few weeks ago, I signed up to go on this trip, only to get a call from Ivan himself at 7 am in the morning. “ Hi Anna, I’m sorry to inform you that we have to cancel this tour because a storm is heading our way.  It wouldn’t be much fun to see Manila in the rain!” Sure enough, I look through my window and the skies were freakishly dark and gray, and a few minutes after, it started pouring as I have not seen before. The droplets of rain I can see from my window were thick and whose sound as it hit the window can easily be mistaken for hail. While this storm did not come with its usual strong winds, it poured so much water that surely caught the Philippines off guard. People were being rescued by boat or makeshift floating devices from homes that were getting submerged in water or on streets were they were left stranded. Others were trying to wade through waist-deep water to find safety. After a few hours, houses disappeared and streets turned into raging rivers, while people tried to escape and salvage anything they have. But it wasn’t until the day after that the country and the world saw the intensity of Typhoon Ondoy and the damage it brought to Manila, especially (I discuss this in another blog later)…

The day I rescheduled this trip was completely different.  And though the day started with a bit of light rain, by 10 am, 

the sun was shining bright. I got started a bit late and to make matters worse, my cab driver wanted to charge me an  extra 30 pesos on top of the meter ride because he said it was far and that it was raining. I know this trick very well. I threatened to leave the cab, which I’ve done before, to which he simply said “never mind.” And perhaps when he noticed that the sun

started to come out 10 minutes into the ride, all was forgotten and he seemed to be in better mood as he started to sing the 1980s hit, “King and Queen of Hearts.” 

He actually had a nice voice.  I was 10 minutes late when I got to the Binondo Church, the meeting place, and Ivan’s group was nowhere to be found.  Luckily, everyone knows about this tour and a woman selling sampaguita flowers told me to check the plaza across the street. 

I ran to the plaza, hoping not to miss anything. As a I caught my breath, I saw Ivan, in his bright  

blue Old Manila Walks Shirt, equipped with a microphone as he attempted to give life to this plaza, telling us to imagine it as the popular hang out “back in the day” for the wealthy and a place where one who wants to be seen can be seen.  Today, it is a plaza filled with street children and their families. Ivan’s presence is seemingly well known as he stood surrounded by two street children who listened to his narration, while staring at all of us, probably wondering who’s Filipino and who’s not.  I later realized they were also waiting for spare change, which he quickly handed to them as we left the plaza. But one of them, a girl, who must have been about 11 years old, kept following us. At some point, Ivan said, “You’re here again? Nothing for you today. ”  But she was persistent with her presence and one of the men in our group finally gave her some change, and with that, she happily left.

Binondo, Manila’s Chinatown, is certainly an important marker of the Tsinoy community in the Philippines but also has a dark history worth noting. The Tsinoy community, which blossomed beginning in the mid 16th century, faced

considerable oppression in the country.  Not only were they relegated to the 

Parian, a ghetto located close to Binondo, which became a key site where local Filipinos came to shop and find workers, they were also subjected to paying mandatory tributes and all sorts of taxes--actions they 

tried to circumvent by marrying Filipinos, converting to Catholicism, or enlisting in the Philippine Navy.  Attempts of the Chinese to gain some power and reclaim land through various uprisings only led to their demise as many were killed, captured, or later, sent off to work on haciendas owned by Spanish friars. This was not enough and the King of Spain, by mid 1600s, ordered for their expulsion from the Philippines and back to Xiamen (aka Amoy), a coastal city in China’s Fuijian province. The only ones permitted to remain were Chinese merchants and artisans deemed to be “valuable” for the colony.  They were to remain in an area across the Pasig River that will later be known as the district of Binondo and an enclave for Christian Chinese. Now it remains a bustling Tsinoy enclave full of various types of mercantiles, apothecaries, and tea houses that can make anyone dizzy at first glance. There are numerous alleys that only a local 

like Ivan can unearth and make accessible.  In case you find the streets too treacherous, there are numerous pedicabs to offer rides. At one point, I remember seeing a sea of cars, kalesas (horse-drawn carriages), and jeepneys, all moving so fast on Ongpin Street, which would normally make crossing nearly impossible. But Ivan’s technique is to motion one’s left hand as a stop sign to the oncoming traffic and sure enough, they

actually stopped. I did the same and followed him closely and I suspect that the rest of the people in my group did the same. While I was mesmerized by the street scenes  and attempting to absorb the spirit of this place, Ivan made sure we also paid attention to the food that Binondo is known for. From sampling traditional fried rice, soup with squid ball, and iced coffee at one of the teahouses, he also invited us to be adventurous by sampling tea eggs that had definitely been simmering in five spice.  Apparently, only three of us were “brave” enough to try it. Its taste was nothing too unusual for me—salty enough and definitely left a five spice flavor lingering in my mouth after the last bite. He called them "chocolate eggs." I think the rest of the people in my group were too scared of its brown color.  

My favorite part of the tour was a visit to a tea house (insert photo), which Ivan described as an “old school” tea house in the way that they make their dumplings. It was a small place, which can probably only seat 15 people max. It is 

owned by a man who has lived in Binondo for many years and now helped by a woman who is a recent immigrant from China. This is a place that most would probably bypass and think nothing off as the place did not have the kind of curb appeal, so to speak, that other teahouses had. But this is obviously a beloved place as the owners said that on the day of Typhoon Ondoy, as the streets were getting flooded, people were still ordering food from their teahouse.   In entering the place, you are greeted by a table where two women are seen to be rolling out the dough to make the steamed pork and chives dumplings and pan fried pancakes (filled with green o

nion and ground pork). This was certainly a small operation as the women make the dumplings and cakes and then take them to the back where they have a small table to stove for

steaming and/or deep frying. Our plate of dumplings arrived. They were hot to the bite so all of us on the table can be seen attempting to cool them down with our breath as we dipped them in a mixture of soy sauce and hot sauce. It was scrumptious—so juicy and fresh to the taste—with just enough salt and pepper to season the pork. The dumpling was made of wheat flour so it was a bit thicker—sort of like Korean dumplings, as the Korean American woman in our group agreed. The fried pancakes had the same filling—they were fried just sufficiently so that they were crispy on the outside and then moist to the bite.  This was “all you can eat,” said Ivan, but sadly, my table group was a bit shy about eating. But I wasn’t. I knew that those dumplings were going to be the best part of the tour (and I was right!). So I did not hesitate to order another plate. I knew that the rest really wanted to eat more but were just shy, because when the dumplings came, their chopsticks were dancing.

Our other stops included venturing to hole in a wall places to sample one of the tastiest siopao--steamed pork buns many of us have ever had, to the point that I had to buy five pieces to take home.  This same stand also sold bicho-bicho—which are these long crispy bread smothered in sugar—sort of like the Filipino churros.   I think I like churros a bit more as the one we tasted did not have much flavor, apart from the sugar. But for one of the women in our group, after seeing the bags of bicho-bicho, excitedly exclaimed “I haven’t had these since I was a child!”  

Of course, a Binondo trip requires visits to the number of bakeries that sell other pastry treats like pineapple cakes and hopia.  I learned that “hopia” means “good cake” and it is definitely a Tsinoy concoction and a type of pastry that can only be found in the Philippines. The couple from Shanghai who were with us agreed that they had never heard or tasted it at all, until now. So much so that they had to buy one as a souvenir.   It is a circular mung bean filled pastry that has a flaky crust. 

Variations of it include having ube (purple yam) or pork fat mixed into it.  My favorite was the ube and jackfruit hopia as the creaminess of the ube was enhanced by the unique scent and texture of ripened jackfruit.  There were also macapuno (sweetened coconut), pandan (fragrant leaf), and black sesame hopias to be found in that one bakery. So unique that I came out with five rolls of hopia which I hope will survive the journey back to the U.S. My Korean American friend wondered how to pack them, to which I said “Ah, no worries. We can worry about that later.”

And finally, who doesn’t love lumpia (egg roll)? But in this case, we sampled the traditional Hokkien lumpia that is wrapped with a soft thin-paper like crepe wheat flour wrapper that I learned is similar to the fresh spring roll Popiah. It 

was filled with all sorts of goodies, including minced pork, heart of palm, mini shrimp, and in this case, seaweed. I’ve never had lumpia with seaweed flakes so it gave an interesting flavor and crunch to every bite. It was delicious and so incredibly savory, especially when you put their “special sauce” on top of it.  The place was something I would probably have trouble finding as it is not visible from the street.  Ivan took us through the famous Carvajal Alley walk where fruit, vegetable, dried fish, and food merchants abound, making sure that I saw the place where Tony Bourdain ate the pancit malabon since I had bombarded him with questions about his interactions with him.  Oh, about Tony—apparently Ivan told us that the fish ball and taho (soft tofu) scene were not originally part of the tour but when Tony saw them on the street, he was curious. When asked what his impression of Tony, Ivan simply said, “He is a very smart man.”  As the alley emptied out into another street, he then took us through a non-descript tunnel-like hallway, and before I can ask where we are going, we are all greeted by a bright sign,  “New Po Heng Lumpia House.” This eatery interestingly is set up in what seemed like an open atrium, with a few tables scattered about, an open kitchen area, and a garden on the back. The only 

problem about this place is the mosquitoes. Thankfully, I put enough anti-mosquito spray on my legs today—something the Shanghai couple in my group wished they had done as one of them just kept slapping themselves in the hopes of killing the mosquitoes before they do any more damage on their skin. They surely lost their appetite as a result of this.  

Apart from two visible Filipina workers, the place is ran by two middle aged Filipino Chinese women who seemed to be in charge of the whole operation, including making the egg rolls, which one of them proudly demonstrated to those of us wanting to see the process unfold. As I sat eating my lumpia, I couldn’t help but smile at the fact that I’m eating something that seemed so familiar, yet every bite makes it unfamiliar.

It is lumpia but the infusion of other flavors and spices—half of which I cannot discern, gives a sense of mystery to every bite. Perhaps this aptly characterizes Binondo the best.  I wanted to soak in this mystery even more so after the official tour ended, I decided to walk around the place a bit more and to see if I can retrace our steps. I went for a while, snapping more photos and then eventually, the heat tired me out and decided to head home. I went back to where I started today—the plaza—and took another quick look. As I was about to cross the street to wait for a cab, my Bicol Express pulled in! No kidding.  It was a jeepney named Bicol Express! Admittedly, I have the propensity to believe in signs. I thought to myself that not only can the universe be kind but it can also be very funny!  As the sweat drip down my back (thanks to wearing a heat absorbing black shirt!), I stood at the plaza thinking to myself that perhaps, the universe is reminding me that my journey has just begun and that there is much more I need to explore.    I wanted to hop on that Bicol Express, but alas, my exhaustion told me that I better just admire it from a distance for now and decided to hail a cab.  When I got on, the cab driver told me I was lucky to find him as he was looking to get out of the area and no other

cab drivers would have driven me to where I needed to go because of the distance. I just smiled and asked, “would you like a siopao?”  A bit startled by the offer, he gratefully took the siopao and asked how I knew he was hungry since he had been stuck in traffic for about an hour and missed lunch.  He kept asking where I bought it and for a minute, he became the tourist as I described the place to him. It was one of the best cab rides and made me realize that embarking on an adventure is best when you can share the experience with someone else.