Como Max Brenner Para Chocolate

Previous: Every Exhibit Has A Story

After the Ayala Museum, we all proceeded to Max Brenner in Greenbelt 3 for pastry and some special hot chocolate. How special? Roland and Ma'am Odette had the Venezuela Dark, I had the Trinidad White, while Ricky and Ma'am Letty had this utterly luxurious and exotic Ecuador chocolate with orchid oil. Almond selected a restorative peppermint tea.

They have this white porcelain earless cup with a pointed lip from which you are encouraged to sip. All the chocolate drinks had these tiny globules of yummy fat floating on top like you'd see in chocolate eh. Ricky let me taste some of the Ecuador, which struck me as only faintly sweet upon first touching the tongue. The sweetness developed in the middle of your mouth, and later I detected the faint perfume of orchid oil (vanilla, identifies the Max Brenner website) which had a long finish in the back of the tongue. Not to everyone's taste, but definitely to mine! (Note to self: order it next time.) My Trinidad White was yummy, but a bit too rich for me. It brought back all childhood Christmases past,with its dairy velvety-ness and buttery richness laving all over my tongue. I guess the best way to enjoy it would be to take a long sip, let it fill the mouth and senses, before swallowing slowly. And in between, sips of lifesaving water.

We also shared a fancy brownie. I have no idea what it was called since we promptly pounced on it, and in true Pinoy fashion, ping-ponged the last bite around the plate.


The first time I went to Max Brenner it was with the Justice League (the everyday heroines in my barkada) for the newly engaged Tim's birthday two years ago. We'd had dinner somewhere else and decided to have dessert. Almond very cleverly arranged a surprise entry by Tim's then-fiancee Eric, home early for Christmas via Hong Kong red-eye. We had a chocolate fondue, which I enjoyed but was not much impressed by. I think I was too busy laughing at Tim's expression of incredulous joy when she saw Eric.

My estimation of the place has risen since then, after this visit. In my opinion this quality of hot chocolate shouldn't be downed like it were Swiss Miss and you were in pajamas. First of all, it's pricey (one could have a full meal for the price of one cup of gourmet hot choco), but I think what we'd ordered was well worth it. I'd been avoiding Max Brenner when it first opened precisely because I feared it would be the sort of place pretentious people like to casually brag about having been to (read: I can afford high-end chocolate! Also read: Been there, done that, now let's haul my fashionable deconstructed jeans-clad ass off to the next hot new happening place!).

Now that the fashion panic has abated and the place has established itself, it's actually attracting people in search of chocolate adventure. I think if I'm flush with a little cash and in need of some chocolate therapy, or just planning to celebrate with TDM, it's a great place to go to. Once in a while.

Every Exhibit Has A Story

We were all quite excited to see the Gold of Ancestors exhibit at the Ayala Museum, but there were other interesting exhibits on the other floors I hadn't even gotten around to blogging about yet.

Southeast Asian Ceramics

On the fourth floor, along with the gold, was a fantastic collection of Southeast Asian trade ceramics from the Roberto T. Villanueva collection. Popular historian Ambeth Ocampo writes about it here. They were arranged according to style/country of origin. All celadons together, all iron glazed together, all Thai together, all Vietnamese together, all blue and white together. Every glass shelf tells the visitor about the pieces displayed, identifying the style, the estimated age, and the location where the item was found. In the middle of the collection there is a fascinating section telling the story of the Grau sisters whose lives were dedicated to this collection. Consuelo Grau was married to Roberto T. Villanueva, while her sister Remedios curated the collection. Both sisters were students of renowned anthropologist H. Otley Beyer in UP. Because they were known collectors, people would actually bring them their finds on a near daily basis! When I looked all around, it was likely that there were more pieces that weren't on display.

The first time I visited, we were in such a hurry to get into the 30-minute interval when the bank-vault doors opened into the gold exhibit that I totally missed the inner room. This room had a sofa with a big video screen, and the video told the story of the development of ceramics in China, to the development of the trade route from southern China to the Philippines, to India, all the way to the Middle East. There is a map of Asia on one side of the screen which shows little lights all along the trade route, timed to match the video dialogue! (Ok, I love that sort of thing.) And every time a notable piece is used as an example, the actual piece is spotlighted. Timed as well. My favorite piece is a delicate white flower-shaped footed bowl ("Yung gulaman container!" we joked), one of the oldest in the collection. My next favorite was a painted elephant with a rider, a piece from Vietnam. My third favorite piece was of a little brown carabao. Almond and Roland both loved the blue and white ceramics.

Embroidered Multiples

Ricky later led us to his personal favorite exhibit, embroidered national costumes from the period of Damian Domingo. These consisted of baro't saya, kerchiefs/fichus and men's costumes, all beautifully embroidered. Fabrics were in abaca, pina, jusi, silk and cotton. I believe Ricky was involved in making sure the items were displayed to best effect, yet adequately protected in a temperature controlled environment. The items were beautiful, the embroidery exceedingly fine. These items are the best and only examples of their kind, and the irony is that we are only enjoying them because of a five-year loan to the Ayala Museum by the Leiden National Museum of Ethnology (Netherlands), which acquired them from a French diplomat in the late 1800s. Some items on loan include heirloom garments from the Pardo de Tavera collection now owned by collector Rina Ortiz.

Looking at the items, I realized that Filipinos were very small and dainty then. The blouses were so sheer that some included modesty panels. If you look at the Damian Domingo paintings you'd realize women probably wore fichus in those days to cover up their chests. The fichus eventually developed into panuelos. I wanted to buy the book for my mom at the Museum Shop (3rd floor), but it was PhP 1,500 and I didn't have the cash on me.

The Juan Luna BPI Collection

My mom attended Ambeth Ocampo's lecture telling the story of this collection when it first opened. Most items in the collection are small works, mostly studies in preparation for bigger paintings. The first time we went to see it I was wondering why the frames were so thick. It was only on my second visit that Ricky explained that some items were reversible. The photo facsimile displayed next to the work showed its other side. On my own I wouldn't have guessed that, since I didn't have a brochure of the collection on hand.

Juan Luna is best remembered for two things: his award-winning painting "The Spoliarium" (famously) and for the murder of his wife Paz Pardo de Tavera and his mother-in-law in Paris (infamously). Ricky filled me in with the juicy details: when Juan Luna's son Andres Jr. died, he left the paintings to his American wife, Grace, who later tried to sell this collection to the Philippine government so she could return to the US. However, the cash-strapped government didn't bite, and for some decades no more was heard of these paintings. Eventually Grace Luna died in an American old-age home. When the paintings resurfaced for sale, buyers were confused about the provenance of the collection because Grace Luna had left them to her caregiver in her will. They ended up in the collection of Far East Bank and Trust Company, an acquisition hounded by controversy as the FEBTC was the agency that originally determined the collection's value in the first place. This collection was later acquired by the Bank of the Philippine Islands with its buyout of the FEBTC.

The major Lunas on display were from the collections of Don Jaime and Beatriz Zobel de Ayala, and from Don Jaime's aunt Dona Mercedes Zobel de McMicking. You would recognize some of them from books, particularly "La Marquesa de Monte Olivar". The accompanying plaques note that Juan Luna signed his paintings in old Filipino script BU+LA (for "bulan" or moon, ie., "Luna"). I didn't notice that the first time I went, but Ricky pointed it out. He also noted that the Zobel-owned paintings had been gifted to the Ayala Museum since he last worked there.

Fernando Zobel, Artist

My generation knows Fernando Zobel de Ayala as the brother of Jaime Augusto, and the husband of Catherine "KitKat" Silverio. The original Fernando Zobel was their uncle the artist. His work, modern and abstract, in different media, occupies the space next to the Amorsolos. His sketchbooks were also on display, as well as letters. There was also an interactive website visitors could access. I didn't know much of him since his works are not part of general study, but as I google I find that he is alternately considered a Spanish artist and a Filipino one. Here are some works in an online auction. His charming dachshund and horse doodles (from travel sketchbooks) are on notebooks and mugs for sale in the Museum Shop.

The Dioramas

It is rare for a child to grow up in Metro Manila and not experience the Ayala Museum dioramas. They illustrate Filipino history in detailed 3d miniature. Ricky however, made our trip as adults more entertaining with the ff. trivia:

1) Each figure, made by hand in Paete, costs at least P2,000!
2) There are realistic details, such as: urinating men, a rat under Rizal's tocador, tiny torn-up buntal hats, a gay Katipunero, a lesbian one, a dwarf, a giant, faces of the artists/museum staff in cameo appearances, folded merchandise in an Escolta store window, others.
3) Imelda complained that there was no Marcos figure in the Death March diorama! A figure was hurriedly made! Later on (post-Edsa Revolution), because it could not be concretely proved that Marcos was actually there, it was decided that the figure be removed! Now no one knows where it went!

The latest addition to that display was a Corridor of Infamy into the Marcos Years, with an interactive presentation narrated by Cheche Lazaro. Oddly enough, the door at the end led to... the stairs leading down to the toilet. No, I joke, it leads down to the ground floor, where there is an artist's space occupied during our visit by painter Nestor Vinluan, who is now less obsessed by the diaphanous now as he is with color on color. With its high ceiling, that space (next to the counter) shows big canvases to great effect.

By this time, we got hungry again...

Next: Como Max Brenner Para Chocolate

Recherchez Les Temps Hanoi

Last Sunday Ricky and Almond organized a museum date-cum-reunion for all of us whom Ricky first met in Hanoi in 2006. Ricky had read my review of the Ayala Museum Gold of Ancestors exhibit, and suggested it would be a good reason to meet up.

Two years ago, Almond, Ma'am Odette and Ma'am Letty were all invited to present papers at an academic conference at the Vietnam National University in Hanoi. I tagged along, sort of masquerading as a fellow UP faculty member ("You are also from the University of the Philippines?" "Yes, but I'm not presenting a paper." "You must attend the dinner and the water puppet show!" "Uh, ok, thank you!"). While they were busy practicing their presentations and networking with other participants, I quickly rebooked us from the first sorry-assed hotel we checked into, to the very comfortable but forbiddingly named Army Hotel. It was nearer the conference venue, and at USD35/night for a twin share, it was irresistible. I also planned some of our itinerary, as it was my job to negotiate with/harass taxi drivers and tour operators.

Ricky happened to be billeted at the Army Hotel as well. Almond and I first noticed him during the buffet breakfast, at which we already noted his hair and his fashion sense. It was Ma'am Odette and Ma'am Letty who confirmed the happy fact of his Pinoy-ness. Ricky turned out to be the visiting consultant at the museum near the university. Later on, at the steps of the VNU, we met Roland and the other Singapore-based Pinoy grad students who were attending the same conference. Roland also presented a paper.

We had lunch at Greenbelt 5, at Fely J's (another LJC restaurant) on the second floor. It was a good thing we arrived early, as the place was soon fully packed. The menu is Filipino and Asian dishes served family style, with very reasonable prices. Check out the pork adobo with whole cloves of roasted garlic (yum!):

(I must apologize for the lack of focus in that pic. It smells and tastes more appetizing than the photo suggests.)

The other big winner of the day was the fried tilapia in sweet plum sauce shown here ready to swim off the plate and into our stomachs:

To accompany those we also had bangus belly sinigang (sampalok), ensalada ni nanay (red eggs, assorted vegetables and bagoong), ginataang gulay (squash, string beans, other vegetables and shrimps in coconut milk), and for dessert, "Claude's Dream" (a generous scrape of soft, fresh buko meat on top of creamy macapuno ice cream surrounded by pandan flavored jelly):

All in all, a very satisfying meal (despite the slow - but friendly! - service).

We then proceeded to the Ayala Museum, where Ricky was able to get us discounted entrance rates (thank you!).

Next: Every Exhibit Has A Story