Chef Tatung’s solo act in Cubao
Myke “Tatung” Sarthou wields a kind of power that comes from a single word—his name. His mononym is akin to Madonna and her confessions on a dance floor, only this time, the simple chef offers an honest, revelatory look into his upbringing inside his grandmothers’ kitchens. “I really based this restaurant on the dishes I grew up having,” Tatung says.
Following the closure of Palenque, the food hall where his former outlet Tindeli once stood, Tatung’s in Gateway Mall 2 in Cubao captures the promise of a good homemade and labor-intensive Filipino meal. From the get-go, it’s clear that Tatung advocates for Filipino food—free from fine trappings at a time when the F&B landscape is seemingly expressing itself for Michelin-recognized trademarks.
A labor of love
At Tatung’s, he fearlessly cooks beef caldereta topped with queso de bola, marries shrimp with toasted coconut curds, roasts beef in santol wood for six hours, and brings people together over a whole pompano braised in coconut milk. You could, in his words, taste the hard work they exerted into cooking the dishes in the kitchen.
“The luxury of labor when we were growing up is lost now,” he explains. “We don’t have the luxury of time and labor, and we wanted to make it taste like that… It’s a kind of cooking I miss.”
Tatung’s grandmothers, Juanita (from his father’s side) and Natividad (from his mother’s side), also metaphorically help tap into the vastness of Filipino food on display here. “The DNA of the recipes is those I grew up with that evolved from their homes,” he says.
And they are very distinct, with Tagalog and Bicol influences from Juanita and Natividad, offering a wealth of Cebuano and Chinese inspirations.
Familiar and culturally relevant
Tatung delivers on the promise of sharing recipes he loved growing up, with little tweaks here and there. That restraint against the temptation to significantly modify his menu for a more modern touch is important.
If anything, he amplifies his food in his own way but never gratuitously—a crowning of homemade kikiam on pancit guisado, a whiff of tabon-tabon and biasong lime in a tuna kinilaw, a touch of batuan ketchup with the pork chop, and an eggplant “casserole” with ground meat, tomato, and béchamel and cheese on top.
The premise isn’t revolutionary, but it’s familiar and culturally relevant. “We just do it the way we used to do things.” For someone like Tatung with his culinary credibility, it works. And from a consumer standpoint, this approach makes sense.
The geographic reality of his mall-based location dictates customers seeking family-friendly destinations, special occasion spots, and go-to lunch and dinner options. In essence, a place that overlaps between customer bases and hovers amid the familiar and the special.
Listen to your design voice
The design choices equally show Tatung’s acute awareness of making guests feel at home.
Meant to resemble your grandmother’s home replete with antique details, found objects, and pieces from his personal collection—plateras as shelves, a grand old mirror in the back, solihiya chairs, and art and maps depicting Philippine motifs—the restaurant eschews a traditional overhaul and instead pursues a polished take on the Filipino home.
“It’s like Bahay ni Lola na namana ng apo. It moves toward a contemporary feel but with the structure of the old,” he says. “And iniiwasan ko kasi to feel like you’re in a mall.”
Join the club
What does Tatung get right about driving foot traffic and customer loyalty? For one, he’s never lost his identity, which can be a determining factor of success and failure. And perhaps that is felt even more at Tatung’s.
This is his first concept in which he has full operational and creative control. Without partners, the stakes are higher because whether he succeeds or not rests solely on him. But he seems to relish the challenge. “This is the first restaurant I put up without partners. After more than a decade, I’m doing this more my way,” he says. “But at least whatever happens, I’m able to say what I’m really about.”
His customer-facing experience is unparalleled, too. He talks and greets people in real time, being the natural social butterfly he is. Customers dine in frequently. Repeat visits, he says, are a common occurrence. This also makes getting feedback easier, which can strengthen the fundamentals of his operations.
“[When they dine here], they feel that they know you personally and you really feel that connection,” says Tatung, adding that 90 percent of the customers have been part of the brand environment he has cultivated.
The store also functions as an ecosystem of Tatung’s brands. A retail section in front consolidates his deli items and merchandise. His World Gourmand Award-winning books are also on display, including his latest release “KitchiZen: Slow Fire, Steady Heart in a World of Too Much,” an edition that explores “the philosophy of Philippine cooking” and “honing the sanctity of the kitchen and all its citizens,” write Ambeth Ocampo and Merlie M. Alunan, respectively.
You could say that this book is a reflection of the restaurant’s mission statement of mindfully taking your time to remember the flavors of home. Tatung fighting for his space, on his own no less, displays the kind of noble effort that sees him at his most personal yet.
The result is nostalgic but genuinely grounded, and a wonderful addition to his portfolio.
