Now, if you’re like me, you’ve driven by the colorful Barrio Fiesta across from All-Star Lanes dozens of times, writing it off as a creepy and potentially out-of-business Mexican joint. You might assume the same of Fiesta Sa Barrio across the street, given it’s Spanish-tinged title. Don’t be fooled by the misnomer, though—these establishments are hard-core Filipino destinations, thriving with the business of large immigrant families, reveling in the comforts of home food.
What ingredients make up this traditional culinary genre? Banana ketchup, taro ice cream and pig knuckles, to name a few. If ever a carnival unfolded on a dinner table, it would be at a Filipino restaurant. The electric colors and mind-boggling food combinations make it abundantly clear why both of Eagle Rock’s Filipino restaurants use “fiesta” in their name. From the friendly family of ten who offered us advice on what to order to the cheesy exotic game shows and soap operas playing on the flat screen, it was quite the culinary fête.
The menu reads Dostoevsky, requiring multiple readings before comprehension even sets in. I’d advise taking a large group—most of the dishes feed two people, but I guarantee you’ll be intrigued by at least half the menu. We started off with the fried pata, or pig’s knuckles, a ubiquitous dish that graced every table in the place. I was wary but these blew me away—once you eat your way through the crispy outer layer of fried skin, the tender pink meat inside shreds to pieces at the slightest touch and melts as soon as it hits your mouth.
Adobo is another classic dish in which chicken and pork are marinated to silky oblivion in a garlic and vinegar sauce, then served in a thick silver fry pan with an abnormally large handle. We ordered the mixed meat, but you can get single-meat pork or chicken adobo as well, and any combination comes with pickled hard-boiled eggs, too. The pancit malabon noodle dish also featured eggs in a big way—chunky yellow strings with tidbits of egg, pork and shrimp weaved throughout were served with slices of lemon and hardboiled egg and topped with baby shrimps.
If pig knuckles don’t pack enough adventure for you, take a page from my book and scoop the eye out of their whole tilapia wrapped in banana leaves. You are served the entire fish, so all fins, bones and eye sockets are fair game. Our table was littered with animal carcass and random bone collections at the end of this meal, and it was impossible to resist the temptation to play with our food. Wait until no one’s looking and fist pump the knuckle bones—you won’t regret it.
The grand finale of this meal came when a neighboring table had an essential Crayola box in a bowl delivered to their table. “Would you like anything else?” Our waiter enquired. “That,” I replied, pointing directly to the nearby umbrella-topped pseudo-ice cream sundae. The halo-halo is served in a large glass goblet with several smaller bowls for sharing. The bottom layer is composed of fruit and sweet bean preserves with gelatin squares and orange chunks that may or may not have been sweet potato. The next layer was a mixture of crushed ice and cream, followed by a dollop of purple taro ice cream and an umbrella. Halo-halo means mix-mix, and the nearby patrons instructed us in stirring the hodge-podge together before dishing up.
While the mesh was good, the bright purple ice cream and mysterious orange chunks stuck out to me, as well as the tiny red beans. The crushed ice seemed a little superfluous. Next time, I’m going for the buko pandan, a mix of green jell-o, young coconut and coconut palm in a rich cream. I’m also looking forward to the crab and eggplant omelettes, dried and fried beef strips and a soup thickened with pig’s blood.
The best part of this meal, though? Getting the check. All this food for six people, with tip included, was only $54, just nine dollars a person. Considering the food baby we were all nursing, that’s pretty impressive. So don’t ever let anyone tell you not trust a strip mall restaurant. It is in these overlooked and unkempt nooks of Los Angeles that some of the city’s most thrilling dining takes place.
For a full menu, visit http://www.sporq.com/losangeles/fiestasabarrio/
The menu reads Dostoevsky, requiring multiple readings before comprehension even sets in. I’d advise taking a large group—most of the dishes feed two people, but I guarantee you’ll be intrigued by at least half the menu. We started off with the fried pata, or pig’s knuckles, a ubiquitous dish that graced every table in the place. I was wary but these blew me away—once you eat your way through the crispy outer layer of fried skin, the tender pink meat inside shreds to pieces at the slightest touch and melts as soon as it hits your mouth.Adobo is another classic dish in which chicken and pork are marinated to silky oblivion in a garlic and vinegar sauce, then served in a thick silver fry pan with an abnormally large handle. We ordered the mixed meat, but you can get single-meat pork or chicken adobo as well, and any combination comes with pickled hard-boiled eggs, too. The pancit malabon noodle dish also featured eggs in a big way—chunky yellow strings with tidbits of egg, pork and shrimp weaved throughout were served with slices of lemon and hardboiled egg and topped with baby shrimps.
If pig knuckles don’t pack enough adventure for you, take a page from my book and scoop the eye out of their whole tilapia wrapped in banana leaves. You are served the entire fish, so all fins, bones and eye sockets are fair game. Our table was littered with animal carcass and random bone collections at the end of this meal, and it was impossible to resist the temptation to play with our food. Wait until no one’s looking and fist pump the knuckle bones—you won’t regret it.
The grand finale of this meal came when a neighboring table had an essential Crayola box in a bowl delivered to their table. “Would you like anything else?” Our waiter enquired. “That,” I replied, pointing directly to the nearby umbrella-topped pseudo-ice cream sundae. The halo-halo is served in a large glass goblet with several smaller bowls for sharing. The bottom layer is composed of fruit and sweet bean preserves with gelatin squares and orange chunks that may or may not have been sweet potato. The next layer was a mixture of crushed ice and cream, followed by a dollop of purple taro ice cream and an umbrella. Halo-halo means mix-mix, and the nearby patrons instructed us in stirring the hodge-podge together before dishing up.
While the mesh was good, the bright purple ice cream and mysterious orange chunks stuck out to me, as well as the tiny red beans. The crushed ice seemed a little superfluous. Next time, I’m going for the buko pandan, a mix of green jell-o, young coconut and coconut palm in a rich cream. I’m also looking forward to the crab and eggplant omelettes, dried and fried beef strips and a soup thickened with pig’s blood.The best part of this meal, though? Getting the check. All this food for six people, with tip included, was only $54, just nine dollars a person. Considering the food baby we were all nursing, that’s pretty impressive. So don’t ever let anyone tell you not trust a strip mall restaurant. It is in these overlooked and unkempt nooks of Los Angeles that some of the city’s most thrilling dining takes place.
For a full menu, visit http://www.sporq.com/losangeles/fiestasabarrio/
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