At its best, Pinoy cuisine is a light-hearted, heavy-handed riot. Pork-stuffed bullfrog? Deep-fried pig trotter? Peanut butter oxtail curry? There’s not much time for subtlety or apology when it comes to Filipino food, and that flavourful abandon is without doubt one of its strongest suits. So it’s with slightly cautious optimism that we enter the chic, brick and steel Chibog, eager to see how this big-hearted cuisine plays out in a self-styled ‘modern Filipinx gastronomy bar’.
Firstly, if you’re journeying specifically to Chibog, park out the front to avoid being led astray by the neighbouring wafts of this nascent gastro hub—Night Sparks’ dumba karahi; Magic Momos’ magic momos, for example. Once you’re in, order an ube macapuna colada: a heavily rum-ed, Tinky Winky-purple take on the old faithful that nods to the fluro root vegetable’s ubiquity in the Philippines. Now that you are hammered, clock the deep-fried trotter next to you and the knife thrust vertically through its oily hide. That’s the crispy pata. It comes with a vinegar dipping sauce, and if you like trophy food, order it and brace for Category Five decadence. If that’s not you, continue through the shared menu of small plates and large and select one of each per diner present.
Chibog doesn’t do betute (the stuffed frog), but it does do rellenong pusit—a small squid stuffed with pork mince and carrot —which hits the table first. A hasslebacked, flower-adorned surf ‘n turf sausage roll of sorts, the pork and squid are unfortunately in competition here—speaking to both the freshness of the squid and the granular quality of the mince. Our kinilaw lands next; a delicately plated, tobiko-topped tuna ceviche served in coconut cream, and despite feeling somewhat out of place next to the squidception, it’s a refreshing must-order—the cream balanced out by a squeeze of lime, the adorning flower looking more at home this time. Rounding out the small plates is the lumpiang sariwa, a coconut crepe filled with vegetables, moated by peanut sauce and crowned with another flower—an inoffensive option for those put off by the big signature flavours to come.
“It’s like spaghetti marinara, but way better” offers our waiter of the pancit malabon. A rice noodle classic flavoured with smoked fish, prawn head and pork, the pummeled ingredients stick to the noodles like carbonara. It’s then topped with prawns and boiled egg and is an impressively pungent, deeply oceanic twist in the evening, and while the spring onion and lime go some way to cutting through the heft.
Mariah Carey hits a shrill dolphin whistle over the PA (she’s been doing that all night, to be fair) as the kare kare arrives: a classic Filipino peanut butter oxtail stew served with eggplant, okra, snake beans and a whopping scoop of bagoong—“please, only use a small dot of this,” interjects our waiter—the perversely salty fermented shrimp paste that gives much of the Filipino canon its depth. The fat in the oxtail is rendered somewhere close to the consistency of the curry in which it lies, and paired with the eggplant and okra makes for a truly luxe mouthfeel. The curry itself, however, is conspicuously underseasoned, leaving the heavy lifting to the bagoong—a big gamble for such a divisive element. Our kansi arrives last: a traditional soup and another enterprising combination that (almost) brings together a puckering tamarind broth with staunch hunks of osso bucco and jackfruit.
There’s a lot to like about Chibog. The enthusiasm and the flavourful abandon that can make Filipino food so entertaining is here. The commitment to the classics is here. The fuschia-lit, Mariah Carey-backed playfulness is here. And it’s clearly resonating; you’ll more often than not need a booking at Chibog—great news for a fledgling restaurant hit hard by the you-know-what. But there’s a disconnect between what’s leaving the kitchen and the actual dining experience—a customer-facing self-consciousness that feels at odds with the spirit of the food. A few less decorative flowers and a little less ‘gastronomy bar’ could go a long way here, particularly given the number of brilliant eateries that surround it.