Return to Manila Hotel's Cafe Ilang-Ilang: The Past in the Present

Manila Hotel's grand lobby never fails to inspire.

Whenever my mother goes to Manila Hotel, she is transformed.  Her inner little girl shines through. She is always transported to her first time through the hotel's awesome doors, way back in the 1950's, when her father brought her there for bibingka.  And so she loves bibingka, and wherever she eats it, she is reminded of Manila Hotel. Bibingka is one of the best pasalubongs to give her. But if you really want to make her happy, you take her to Manila Hotel and let her have her bibingka there. 

Early last week, we had the chance to do just that. Oliver was leaving for Austria a couple of days before his birthday.  Before he left, we had a little despedida dinner, an intimate one with my parents and our kids. 4 adults, 3 generations, 2 kids, 1 hotel = a perfect 10 of a night!  The magic began as soon as we took our first few steps on the main lobby's magnificent marble floors.

3-year old Narra took this photo of the ceiling.

"It's like Beauty and the Beast!', said my daughter Narra, who's seeing the hotel for the first time. She was in awe.  She bent backwards, with her head tilted skyward, her eyes wide open as she took in the massive chandeliers.  A second later, she was twirling. A dance-inducing waltz from an ensemble of lovely violinists in green gowns was accompanying my daughter's movements. I suppressed a smile. I knew if my mother was less of a well-mannered lady, and more of a free-spirited hippie, she'd be dancing with my daughter too.  She tried to walk as normally as possible, but there was a subtle bounce in her step, and her face registered a bubbly countenance.  She was floating down the lobby.  There are many beautiful and awesome hotels elsewhere. But none of the newer ones, no matter how grand in design and elevated in stature, could offer the one thing Manila Hotel has that gives it an edge: history.  No other hotel would turn my mother into a little girl, because there was only one "first" hotel her father took her to.  Which is why when I turned 18, she threw me a debut party here, as much for my benefit, as for hers. She wasn't just giving me a party, she was drawing deeply from her inner reservoir of happiness, and grafting my milestones into her timeline - and her milestones into mine. The umbilical cord cut at birth, is restored in spirit, through memories recounted, and decades-old-daydreams made real, and "re-corded" in one continuous family history.  Today, we link the next generation to the chain, as we introduce our children to this glorious institution.

The striking backlit wall at the Cafe's entrance.

We made our way to the far end of the hotel, towards the back, in the direction of the pool.  The location is familiar, but the sight that greeted us is completely different.  Oliver and I visited the newly renovated Cafe Ilang-Ilang last year and vowed to return with family - I told him then, that my mom had to see the cafe's latest reincarnation.  When my mom saw the interiors, I imagined multiple memories being triggered in her head, of what the place looked like: in the 1950's with her dad; 1970's with my dad; 1980's with her balikbayan siblings returning home to see what's become of the country they left behind; early-to-mid 1990's for grand parties in the time of Manila's economic boom before the 1997 financial crisis; and now, in the 2010s, with her grandchildren.  I too, am taking it all in, committing images to memory, wondering what transformations I'd see by the time it's my turn to go there with my grandchildren.

The desert station, by the entryway.

Upon entering, the first food station that comes into full view is the dessert section with a dramatic backdrop of a curved wall that stretches from floor to ceiling, creating a cavern-like canopy. Chocolates and cake, candies and custards, fruits and ice cream - it's a feel-good moment, laying eyes on that island of joy.  Next to it is a function room for intimate parties, splendidly ensconced in an alcove created by steel-framed glass panel partitions. I thought it looked quite impressive, and not as "aquarium"-like as glass-partitioned rooms go.  It was cleverly concealed and displayed at the same time.

A function room under the curved ceiling.

Off to the left, down a spacious aisle, is the Italian section, complete with a brick oven, and a fun display - a "leaning tower of pasta".  The thin-crust pizzas fresh off the oven are so good, especially the four-cheese pizza. On the counter was one wonderful wheel of parmesan cheese waiting to be scraped.  Yum. There were other stations located in great distances throughout the sprawling space. Truth be told, I couldn't really find my bearings.  I almost needed a map! When Oliver recommended the bird's nest soup, my dad took a while looking for it!  Like a driver asking for directions, he asked chefs and waiters for signposts to find the soup.  We nearly missed the Japanese section which was almost hidden from view in a far corner.  If it hadn't been for a kid carrying a plateful of tempura walking past us, we wouldn't have suspected its existence.  What Cafe Ilang-Ilang enjoys in terms of space, it lacks in terms of focal points and logical flow.  Or maybe it was the "central" location of our seats that caused the problem.  Being at the center didn't mean having access to everything - rather, it felt like entering a movie theater in the middle of the story - equally far from the beginning and the end - and we needed to do a bit of backtracking.  I ended up having my cake before my sushi - which I did not appreciate at all. 

The brick oven in the Italian station.

And for my mom, it was the bibingka that she found last.  She already had her concluding sip of coffee, by the time she discovered that the bibingka was not in the Filipino section, but behind the Chocolate fountain, across the refrigerated custards.  She was torn, between a sensible desire to stop eating because she's full, and a senseless desire to perform her Manila Hotel ritual.  In the end, she came to her senses, and let her bibingka moment go.  She was happy. Even without it.

Guijo giving life to the phrase "bundle of joy"!

All of us were happy, even the kids! Narra, the picky-eater, had fun consuming her picks for the night. While Guijo, who just cut his first tooth, is proving to be a "super-sulit" buffet companion. He loves to try new tastes and textures, with his eyes widening or squinting appropriately, depending on what he's sampling. What a joy it is to watch him eating with gusto.  

We left Cafe Ilang-Ilang, completely satiated body and soul.  We took our time walking out of the hotel, admiring the artwork, interiors, and architecture of this grand, old landmark.  Leaving the lobby, we were all smiles, except for Guijo, who was already sleeping soundly in his stroller.  My mom kept thanking Oliver profusely, for taking us to dinner here, in her special place. One last group pic, then we were out of there. We have a new memory to add to our collection of Manila Hotel moments.