FN Blog - Seven heads are better than one!

Move over, Tapa King; hello there, Don Galo.

Remember when the brainless choice for a cheap but savory meal at 4 in the morning was institutionalized by that red-and-white neon-lit 24-hour tapsi hub that was Tapa King? A few years ago, I knew their delivery hotline by heart, because whenever my colleagues and I found our tummies doing a chorus line while OT-ing past midnight, there was only one number to call. “Kain?” one of us would usually just throw out there in the windowless, recycled office air. No questions asked, each of us would parry with our usual order: “Tapa Queen,” “King,” “With extra rice,” “Bangus” (there’s always the token vegetarian), “Prince.”

Over the years, prices went up, as is a natural course of commerce. But on another one of our OT deliveries, we couldn’t ignore that, save for the rice and the sunny side up which stayed virtually the same, we were now paying so much more for so much less. For over a hundred bucks, what once upon a time were dark, 1/3-inch-thick matchbox squares of diligently marinated tapa now stood carpaccio-thin strips of pale, emaciated beef. “What’s happening?” we wondered. A rise in overhead cost? A change of supplier? Did Nicole Richie venture into the cattle industry?

With heavy hearts and leaner pockets, we shifted allegiance to the Happy Meal. At least there were still choices under the hundred-peso mark.

A few nights ago, though, driving down Katipunan at around midnight, hunger struck unannounced. And though I wasn’t really finicky about what to eat (I just wanted to circumvent another ulcer attack), a modicum of self-respect demanded that I vie for more than a styro bowl of just-add-hot-water mami from Select. A green-and-white signage just below an overpass caught me eye (across Ateneo, between Gate 2 and 3). “Don Galo Parañaque’s Best Tapa,” it read. I had recall a friend saying how the eatery did live up to its name. The last time he ate there was when it hadn’t yet expanded beyond Parañaque. He lived in Valle, and he would drive all that way south of the toll gate for tapsilog. That had to count for something. So I pulled over, approached the carinderia-like façade and ordered a tapsilog.

It doesn’t look like much (then again, tapa’s hardly ever camera-friendly), but Don Galo’s unique version of a classic staple gives you something to actually relish when all you wanted was to sate a hunger pang.

First of all, let me say that of its ilk—that is, the Tapa Kings, the Goodahs, the Foodahs, and the rest of your typical mom-and-pop tapsihans—Don Galo’s tapa was indeed the best I had ever tasted in a long time. It didn’t taste or look like your usual tapa. Instead of small tiles, it took on the shape of shredded beef bunched together to look like chunks, mixed in with toasted beef flakes. So tender you’d think they used a pressure cooker for it. And not at all drowned in toyo; reminded me of how Visayans cook their adobo (hand-rubbed with salt, pepper, and spices, then cooked in low fire in its own fat and juices). And for 45 bucks, it definitely deserved a Bestest and the Cheapest seal of approval.