You must know that when it comes to Manila, I’m hardly ever there. Reason is: I don’t know my way enough around that city to save my life. Hence, I’m hardly ever at Mall of Asia, Roxas Blvd., or even Malate or Robinson’s Place. Manila denizens who read this are most likely shaking their head and clucking their tongues, “Poor thing.” Yes, indeed.

So on the rare occasion my Bin and Boo are in Manila, we’re here cruising around the gargantuan Mall of Asia complex. The first thing my Bin says upon seeing the “San Miguel By The Bay” sign is, “Wow, branding!” He would know — it’s a statement that echoes his marketing and sales background. I almost expect a San Miguel Beer “blimp” to be looming down on us somewhere. As we drive down the road, restaurants – familiar and not so familiar – attract us, their bright lights melding into one another like in a kaleidoscope.

Touted as the “Better Baywalk” and the “New Baywalk” since its inception in December of 2007, San Miguel By The Bay (SMBB) is a kilometer and a half of entertainment, restaurants, toy-parks for the kids, and a concrete wall to sit on and admire the famed Manila Bay sunset. Walking down the stretch and weaving my way in and out of the throngs, I spy several couples cuddled close, no doubt whispering sugary nothings to each other and wishing the rest of us would disappear. The sunset is admittedly, dazzling, but this place is far too noisy and crowded for me to describe it as romantic. It’s a pleasant surprise however to note that there’s no seawater stench and that the environs remain clean. There’s hope for us all. And with the visible presence of security guards, I feel safe here.

Tonight there are actors in a pantomime. I can’t get close because some diva-wannabe is scolding onlookers, “Bawal mag-Kodakan!” Ngek. So I move on along with my Bin, and instantly we’re assailed by waiters clutching crumpled laminates of their restaurants’ menus and beckoning to us: “Dinner kayo dito sa amin, Ser and Mum!” or “Mas masarap kami dito, Ser!” Yes, dinner is in our plans tonight but after all this aggressive marketing, everything starts to look the same.

Most of the restaurants on this strip are pa-luto types, shop for your food at the neighboring “market” and then tell the waiter how you’d like it cooked. It’s just like being in Dampa and most of the restaurants here are branches of those on Macapagal Avenue, which is a few kilometers away.

We end up in a seafood restaurant curiously named Squared. Stepping into the mini wet market next door similar to the one in Dampa sa Libis, my Bin and I make quick work of our menu: shrimps (tempura – something Boo loves), tilapia (grilled), squid (calamari), and I decide to indulge in a 1-kilo lobster (with chili sauce). The vendor scoops up the crustacean from the safety of its aquarium so that it and I can eyeball each other. Its “antenna” are twitching furiously, and Boo screams in utter horror; to her this creature is probably the incarnation of her ugliest dreams.

Eating at places like Squared requires a certain mind-set — you have to be “game.” The aircon isn’t always on full blast what with the waiters shuffling in and out delivering food to those dining outside, it’s noisy, and it’s crowded. Still, the best meals aren’t always served in 5-star surroundings, and this is one of them.

Though the tempura served at these pa-luto places would make any Japanese chef squirm in disgust, it’s crunchy and the sauce sweet enough to tickle a child’s heart. Boo eats up heartily. The calamari reminds me of the ones they used to serve in Dean St. Café along Pasay Road (how I miss that place!), but this one has a more “burnt” flavor to it, if you get my drift. The tilapia couldn’t be any fresher – charred skin sheltering tender flesh seasoned with chopped tomatoes and onions. There’s something that a grill just does to seafood.

And then there’s my lobster that comes to the table, a flaming mass of orange. The chili sauce is seeping in and around the shellfish, little rivulets oozing juice and chili peppers. Its appearance at the table makes Boo wrinkle her nose, apparently, the nightmare is relived too soon. She dismisses my offer for her to try some. Oh well, more for me and my Bin.

The lobster has been overcooked slightly, its meat is not as soft as I’d like. But no matter, it’s still succulent and the sauce begs for more and even more rice. Though my God-given tools – my hands! – make short work of peeling the lobster, I’m starting to wish that I had my stainless steel crab cracker and seafood pick. After several minutes, my napkin-bib is a study in orange stains and I’m licking my fingers in satisfaction. This is what you call two-fisted, macho eating.

Note: Aside from the understandably pricey lobster, this meal can be had for less than P1,000.

Squared Palutuan
San Miguel By The Bay
Mall of Asia Complex,
Pasay City