I’ve experienced and reviewed a fair number of tasting-menu concepts this year, always with an asterisk for readers and me: Even if I love the meal, I probably won’t eat there again, barring some splurge-worthy life milestone or sea change in household income. Like the gift-wrapped menu handed out with the $700 bill, all this will soon be a sepia-toned memory for my restaurant scrapbook. “For now I’ll savor the delicious memories,” I wrote in a recent review.
This might explain my giddiness across all five courses at Ravenswood’s reimagined Bayan Ko, which transformed its a la carte menu of punchy Filipino and Cuban cooking into a prix-fixe-only format (and got a liquor license!) in May. At $95 per person plus $50 for wine pairings, it’s a comparative bargain edging into the attainable realm of dinner out on a regular Saturday night—albeit the kind special enough to routinely interrupt good conversation. Chef and owner Lawrence Letrero describes it best, as “a neighborhood-friendly tasting menu.”
Letrero and his wife, general manager and owner Raquel Quadreny, implemented the changes upon taking over Glenn's Diner a few doors down, where Bayan Ko 1.0 favorites now take up the hefty guises of all-day diner fare at the roomier Bayan Ko Diner. Think silog with whole-fried baby milkfish, toothsome garlic rice and runny eggs; longanisa and soft scrambled egg Pinoy burritos with oniony tomato salsa; and Korean-style beef short ribs served “bistek” style with saucy Spanish onions.
The creativity being unleashed at BK 2.0 feels fresh and narratively coherent while still recognizably akin to the original, as if it's been simmering in the couple’s minds for a long time. Take the simple, compelling amuse: a spoonful of minced coconut topped with a blob of roe. The creamy, tropically sweet fruit cleverly mellows the brackish pop of the fish eggs. I sipped a Cuba Libre with vanilla-scented aged rum, spicy cola and amaro, and a bracing measure of lime and could almost feel sun-baked sand between my toes.
Arroz caldo, the comforting Filipino chicken and rice porridge, is traditionally dispensed as a cold buster. In Bayan Ko’s first course, it takes a black car to Michigan Avenue wearing silk, via lobster and nutty black rice. The rich, delicate meat bathes in tangy, sweet calamansi butter until tender with a tart edge from a finishing spritz of the citrus. The lobster shells are hard-seared with alliums and ginger—bordering on torched, Letrero tells me—to build a broth that lends sea-salty, robustly savory notes to the rice as it cooks, balancing the dish’s tart, sugared top notes.
Adobong pugita—a glossy curled octopus tentacle atop a pile of bursted potatoes—again leans on the Filipino gift for deploying acid in cooking to coax out the cephalopod’s subtle sweetness. The octopus is braised in vinegar, garlic and soy till submissively tender, glazed in adobo and grilled till charred and sticky. But we nearly lost all composure over those potatoes—confited with garlic and olive oil, pinched open then fried until crispy on the outside and soft as puffy cumulus clouds inside.
The vegetarian menu went stride for delicious stride with its carnivorous counterpart: A warming, brown butter-soused bowl of toothsome black arroz caldo with meaty seared trumpet and oyster mushrooms. Flash-fried then grilled tofu slicked in tart-sweet adobo, giving way to a custardy middle. (And those devastating potatoes again!—sauced with magnetic scallion emulsion.)
The veg take on lechon may have been my favorite bite of the evening, in fact—a taquito of soft-cooked kale enveloped in stretchy, fried yuba and smeared with garlicky, puckering Cuban mojo, plated alongside a fluffy, buttery log of Cuban tamal studded with fragrant sofrito. And this is saying something when its pork belly counterpart—tender, savory, edged in sear and spiked with that zippy mojo—converted my anti-pork belly date for at least the duration of that course.
Execution flaws are few and far between here. The eggplant frita course was practically indistinguishable flavor- and texture-wise from its base of puréed sweet plantain and black bean. By contrast, the buttery umami of the wagyu (tri tip) frita counterpart married beautifully with the creamy beans and caramelized sweetness of the plantain, unsurprising for this tried-and-true Cuban trio.
My date and I could’ve contentedly shared one of the sizable chocolate bibingkas that arrived looking like banana leaf-winged tropical birds. We made solid work of our respective mochi donut-textured cakes, topped with hazelnuts and infused with dark chocolate and an intriguing herbaceous quality from cooking in banana leaves.
Near the end of our well-paced, two-hour feast, I peered into the kitchen on my way to the bathroom and impulsively shouted “Everything’s delicious!” to a couple of startled cooks. Back at the table, I learned that at that very moment, while my date was in front of the restaurant chasing a cell signal, he told a passing couple who peered inside that they simply must eat here. Thinking back, I realize it’s perfectly reasonable to spontaneously evangelize a family-run place that, already beloved by its Ravenswood neighbors and beyond, keeps pushing forward while ensuring as many of us as possible can still afford to come along for the ride.
The food: At this upmarket reimagining of Bayan Ko, five generously portioned courses still melds the owners’ Filipino and Cuban heritage with some self-assured boundary-pushing.
The drink: A small cocktail lineup (boozy and stirred, bittersweet and frothy, and rummy highball) rounds out the focused, all-Spanish wine list—fitting partners to the bold flavors. Think crisp, roundly juicy treixadura from Galicia and a floral, soft tempranillo blend from Rioja (that carried us through the bibingka happily).
The vibe: As ever, the space feels dressed down with attentive, knowledgeable service. There’s a bit more breathing room, as total seats are down to 24 from 32. Note: Bayan Ko 2.0 is reservations only.