The shared table: Asia's communal dining traditions and why they endure
Above The boodle fight, once a military mess hall tradition, is now a Filipino favourite for big gatherings. (Photo: Cesan Escuadro/Pexels)
Where: The Philippines
Origin: Philippine military mess halls, likely mid-20th century
Start with banana leaves so big they could double as sailcloth. Lay them flat like a green runway. Now throw in the rice: white, steamy and unapologetically sticky. Crown it with grilled tilapia, glistening pork belly (or lechon if it is that kind of occasion), salted egg halves, green mango strips, chili-laced vinegar, lumpia still warm from the fryer and maybe a crab or two tossed in for chaos. No forks, no spoons; just hands, heat and a don't-flinch attitude.
The boodle fight was born in Philippine military camps, where time was short and hierarchy got left at the mess hall door. 'Boodle' was army slang for loot, and 'fight' implied that it was plunder to be eaten fast, shoulder-to-shoulder, no questions asked. These days, it's migrated into backyards and beach resorts, becoming part spectacle, part edible group therapy. Even upscale restaurants like Toyo Eatery have co-opted the concept. In this type of communal dining, everyone digs in. Everyone gets messy. Everyone leaves a little more connected, a little more full.
A boodle fight is not just a meal—it's a free-for-all of trust and timing. A performance of bayanihan, the Filipino spirit of shared burden, sweaty joy and passing the shrimp paste without shame.
See more: Food worth fighting for: how to set up your own boodle fight, according to chefs 3. Indian thali and platter politics
Above With roots in Ayurvedic principles, the thali offers balanced nutrition and a feast of regional flavours. (Photo: Yan Krukau/Pexels)
Where: India, Nepal, Sri Lanka
Origin: Centuries-old Ayurvedic and regional food systems
You don't eat a thali. You commit to it. A giant metal platter, or sometimes a banana leaf, is ringed with small bowls of lentils, vegetables, chutneys, yoghurt and sweets. Rice or roti is the edible anchor to the meal.
What seems like maximalist abundance is actually structured nutrition. Thalis are designed with Ayurvedic principles, complete with a balance of sweet, sour, salty, bitter, pungent, astringent. But there's also hierarchy. In caste-rigid societies, who served whom mattered. Today, urban India is remixing the thali with regional varieties, such as a predominantly sweet and savoury thali in Gujarat, or fiery, rice-based ones in the south served on a banana leaf. But the essence remains: one plate, many flavours, always shared. 4. Korean banchan means side dishes with Main Character Energy
Above Banchan brings generosity to the Korean table—communal by default, refillable by tradition. (Photo: Mizzu Cho/Pexels)
Where: South Korea
Origin: Royal Joseon-era table customs
In Korea, side dishes are everything. A meal might feature grilled meat or rice, but it's the banchan—a few or so small dishes of fermented cabbage like kimchi, seasoned vegetables, pickled fish and glass noodles like japchae—that define the meal. They arrive before you order. You don't ask for them. They just appear. And yes, oftentimes, they're refillable. This is a sign of a host's hospitality and generosity.
Rooted in Korean royal court cuisine, the banchan ritual democratised over time. Even at roadside diners in Busan, the humble anchovy may sit beside lotus root and aged kimchi like royalty. Banchan is communal by default: everyone digs in.
See more: The history of banchan, the heart of Korean dining 5. Japanese izakaya and communal dining as poetry
Above In izakaya culture, pouring drinks for others and sharing small plates embody the spirit of omotenashi. (Photo: Gül Işık/Pexels)
Where: Japan
Origin: Edo-era sake shops turned snack spots
In an izakaya, everything is built for sharing. Beer? Get the pitcher. Sake? A flask and tiny ceramic cups, because pouring for others—never for yourself—is a love language. Instead, you notice when a friend's drink is low and you refill it before they have to ask. It's a small gesture, but a meaningful one. A nod to omotenashi, Japan's quiet, attentive form of hospitality.
Grilled skewers of yakitori, soy-glazed eggplant, oden, golden karaage and pristine sashimi arrive in waves. It's a rolling meal of shared plates and many chopsticks, perfect for lingering conversation and second (or third) rounds.
This rhythm of eating stems from the concept of 'ichigo ichie', which means 'one time, one meeting'. The idea that every encounter is unique, fleeting and worthy of your full presence. Izakaya aren't precious or pristine. They're casual but soulful, where the clatter of dishes and laughter merge with the buzz of neon.
It's where office workers cry after a hard day. Where lovers share secrets across plates of grilled squid. Where new friendships are born over cups of warm sake. This communal dining concept is less about ceremony, more about connection. Fluid, unfiltered and lubricated by alcohol, soft lighting and the comfort of small dishes that keep coming.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Tatler Asia
9 hours ago
- Tatler Asia
Top chefs speak out: restaurant design is just as important as its food
Above Photo by Justin De Jesus for Tatler Dining Above Photo by Justin De Jesus for Tatler Dining In contrast, chef Josh Boutwood's flagship establishment Helm at Ayala Triangle Gardens is an archetype of minimalist modernity, reflecting Boutwood's culinary style that refuses to be constrained by a particular genre or cuisine. 'I wanted a space that was relatively simple and appeared as if a kitchen had simply been dropped into it, leaving the bare concrete walls and flooring,' explains Boutwood, 'yet at the same time creating a connection to Ember, the previous restaurant opening. Ember contains some of my photography work with subjects that are all broken; to create the cohesive connection for Helm, we took inspiration from the Japanese art of kintsugi to create the illusion of repairing something broken and making it more beautiful.' Design firm Headroom created a sleek, minimalist space featuring black, copper and grey tones enhanced by dramatic lighting against the starkness of cement and the openness of the kitchen. See also: Asia's grilling culture is deep, delicious and anything but basic Above Photo: courtesy of Ember Above Photo by Justin De Jesus for Tatler Dining Santos, too, underlines the importance of good lighting and explains the magnetism of open spaces. 'Lighting was considered from day one to ensure the mood enhanced the meal. The open kitchen adds transparency and a sense of welcome – the feeling of being part of something unfolding,' he says. At Hapag, art and music are essential elements of a memorable dining experience. The Hapag team, working closely with their design partners, selected numerous pieces from restaurant partners Ricky and Bubu Andres's Filipino art collection, then narrowed them down to the works proudly displayed around the restaurant. 'We felt elevated Filipino dining must showcase the best of Philippine art,' says Bubu. 'Filipino artists are unique, yet very few can show their craft to the world. We wanted Hapag to be a platform to showcase Filipino talent in every way,' she continues. See also: Gastronome Giving, Globe Platinum's signature dining series, is serving meals for a higher purpose In contrast, Boutwood's minimalist world is all about functional design, where every component, like in his food, serves a purpose. 'The idea from the get-go was to have the kitchen centre stage, and it had to look a particular way so it wasn't in the way but purposeful. So we chose a powder coating that would balance the cement and limit the amount of contrasting colours. Also, the orientation of the kitchen needed to be balanced so we, as cooks, didn't appear out of balance,' he says. While designing one's dream restaurant does take a fair amount of thought and collateral, these chefs and their collaborators attest that it is a necessary expense in putting their best foot forward. 'Design is the first sensory release that showcases a restaurant. It sets the expectation of the kind of food and service to be had,' shares Lozano. 'If interiors are well thought out, considering service flow that positively impacts both guests and service staff, then successful design goes beyond aesthetics and greatly contributes to the dining experience.' See also: Leftovers? How Asia turns scraps into culinary gold Above Photo: courtesy of Helm Boutwood stresses that the design, more than anything else, should be an authentic representation of the cuisine and the people behind it. 'It should be a reflection of personalities – from the chefs and the food they create, to the concept in general. I believe very strongly that the restaurant should feel at ease and homely, which in turn makes guests feel like they have stepped into the mind of the chef and surrendered to the creativity of the space.' Santos adds a piece of advice: 'Design from the inside out. Be honest about who you are, and let your space reflect that without compromise. Authenticity resonates more deeply than trend. Design your space like you would a dish – with care, purpose and a clear sense of self.'
Tatler Asia
a day ago
- Tatler Asia
Lisa's male lead Kentaro Sakaguchi shines in roles from romance to action
The story may not be particularly novel, focusing on a five-year-long, lingering romance. Yet the chemistry between the leads, combined with beautiful locations and a concise six-episode run, earned What Comes After Love widespread appreciation. Kentaro portrays a man with a complex inner life, harbouring emotions he cannot share with anyone. With a decade of acting experience behind him, he conveys both the tenderness of love and the quiet struggles of a man who has weathered life's highs and lows. 'Beyond Goodbye': A tragic story set in stunning Hawaiian and Japanese countryside Beyond Goodbye , a Netflix drama, tells a heartrending story of two couples whose lives intertwine after a traffic accident caused by an avalanche. Despite its sorrowful premise and intricate twists, the series has been praised for its gentle, measured pacing that avoids melodrama. The cast delivers consistent and nuanced performances, framed by the scenic beauty of Hawaii and rural Japan. Above Beyond Goodbye | Official Trailer | Netflix Kentaro plays Kazuma, a man with a heart condition who receives a transplant from Yusuke (Toma Ikuta), the lover of Saeko (played by Kasumi Arimura), who died in the accident. He convincingly expresses a spectrum of emotions, from despair and relief to bewilderment, as he grapples with the lingering feelings and memories of another person. 'Signal': Standout performance alongside two seniors in Korean detective remake In 2018, Kentaro Sakaguchi appeared in Signal , a television and film remake of the acclaimed Korean series. He starred alongside veteran Japanese actors Kazuki Kitamura and Michiko Kichise. The original television series had already achieved significant success when broadcast on Fuji TV. Above Signal Japanese Version Official Trailer The work closely follows the original Korean version, in which a young lieutenant, during an investigation, discovers a walkie-talkie that allows him to contact an investigator 15 years in the future. While the series received mixed reviews due to comparisons with the original, Kentaro's performance was widely praised for capturing the character's bravery and integrity. The project also marked a milestone in Kentaro's career, proving he can embrace a variety of roles beyond the psychological-romantic genre. 'Only Just Married': A lovely romantic comedy about the theme of 'marry first, love later' For fans of romantic comedies, Only Just Married is a must-watch. Adapted from the manga by Aoharu Yuki, it follows Shu (Kentaro) and Akiha (Nana Seino), two young people who, for various reasons, decide to marry. Over time, they come to understand each other and slowly develop genuine feelings. Though the storyline is fairly predictable, the chemistry between Kentaro and Nana gives the film its charm. Only Just Married maintained stable ratings, consistently reaching 9 to 10 per cent on TBS, a notable achievement for a romantic comedy series. 'Hell Dogs': Yakuza role brings Best Supporting Actor nomination at 'Japanese Oscars' In 2022, Kentaro appeared in Hell Dogs , adapted from Akio Fukamachi's novel. He stepped out of his comfort zone to play Hideki, a member of a yakuza gang and the son of a death-row inmate, navigating a complex psychological landscape. Sharing the screen with veteran actor Junichi Okada, who played Shogo, a police officer seeking revenge, Kentaro held his own in every scene. Following his acclaimed work in Signal, Kentaro Sakaguchi further showcased his versatility in Hell Dogs . His nuanced performance earned him a nomination for Best Supporting Actor at the Japanese Academy Awards, often referred to as Japan's 'Oscars.' See also: Behind the spotlight: 'Sound designer' – the architects of hearing in the world of cinema Thanks to Hell Dogs , Kentaro gained wider recognition for his talent, proving he combines striking presence with a serious commitment to acting. He is set to return to the big screen in The Sunflower on the Shogi Board, a film adaptation of the 2019 TV series. The project has already drawn attention from Japanese audiences for featuring Ken Watanabe, the celebrated actor known for his work in both Japan and Hollywood.
Tatler Asia
2 days ago
- Tatler Asia
The shared table: Asia's communal dining traditions and why they endure
2. The Filipino boodle fight is organised chaos Above The boodle fight, once a military mess hall tradition, is now a Filipino favourite for big gatherings. (Photo: Cesan Escuadro/Pexels) Where: The Philippines Origin: Philippine military mess halls, likely mid-20th century Start with banana leaves so big they could double as sailcloth. Lay them flat like a green runway. Now throw in the rice: white, steamy and unapologetically sticky. Crown it with grilled tilapia, glistening pork belly (or lechon if it is that kind of occasion), salted egg halves, green mango strips, chili-laced vinegar, lumpia still warm from the fryer and maybe a crab or two tossed in for chaos. No forks, no spoons; just hands, heat and a don't-flinch attitude. The boodle fight was born in Philippine military camps, where time was short and hierarchy got left at the mess hall door. 'Boodle' was army slang for loot, and 'fight' implied that it was plunder to be eaten fast, shoulder-to-shoulder, no questions asked. These days, it's migrated into backyards and beach resorts, becoming part spectacle, part edible group therapy. Even upscale restaurants like Toyo Eatery have co-opted the concept. In this type of communal dining, everyone digs in. Everyone gets messy. Everyone leaves a little more connected, a little more full. A boodle fight is not just a meal—it's a free-for-all of trust and timing. A performance of bayanihan, the Filipino spirit of shared burden, sweaty joy and passing the shrimp paste without shame. See more: Food worth fighting for: how to set up your own boodle fight, according to chefs 3. Indian thali and platter politics Above With roots in Ayurvedic principles, the thali offers balanced nutrition and a feast of regional flavours. (Photo: Yan Krukau/Pexels) Where: India, Nepal, Sri Lanka Origin: Centuries-old Ayurvedic and regional food systems You don't eat a thali. You commit to it. A giant metal platter, or sometimes a banana leaf, is ringed with small bowls of lentils, vegetables, chutneys, yoghurt and sweets. Rice or roti is the edible anchor to the meal. What seems like maximalist abundance is actually structured nutrition. Thalis are designed with Ayurvedic principles, complete with a balance of sweet, sour, salty, bitter, pungent, astringent. But there's also hierarchy. In caste-rigid societies, who served whom mattered. Today, urban India is remixing the thali with regional varieties, such as a predominantly sweet and savoury thali in Gujarat, or fiery, rice-based ones in the south served on a banana leaf. But the essence remains: one plate, many flavours, always shared. 4. Korean banchan means side dishes with Main Character Energy Above Banchan brings generosity to the Korean table—communal by default, refillable by tradition. (Photo: Mizzu Cho/Pexels) Where: South Korea Origin: Royal Joseon-era table customs In Korea, side dishes are everything. A meal might feature grilled meat or rice, but it's the banchan—a few or so small dishes of fermented cabbage like kimchi, seasoned vegetables, pickled fish and glass noodles like japchae—that define the meal. They arrive before you order. You don't ask for them. They just appear. And yes, oftentimes, they're refillable. This is a sign of a host's hospitality and generosity. Rooted in Korean royal court cuisine, the banchan ritual democratised over time. Even at roadside diners in Busan, the humble anchovy may sit beside lotus root and aged kimchi like royalty. Banchan is communal by default: everyone digs in. See more: The history of banchan, the heart of Korean dining 5. Japanese izakaya and communal dining as poetry Above In izakaya culture, pouring drinks for others and sharing small plates embody the spirit of omotenashi. (Photo: Gül Işık/Pexels) Where: Japan Origin: Edo-era sake shops turned snack spots In an izakaya, everything is built for sharing. Beer? Get the pitcher. Sake? A flask and tiny ceramic cups, because pouring for others—never for yourself—is a love language. Instead, you notice when a friend's drink is low and you refill it before they have to ask. It's a small gesture, but a meaningful one. A nod to omotenashi, Japan's quiet, attentive form of hospitality. Grilled skewers of yakitori, soy-glazed eggplant, oden, golden karaage and pristine sashimi arrive in waves. It's a rolling meal of shared plates and many chopsticks, perfect for lingering conversation and second (or third) rounds. This rhythm of eating stems from the concept of 'ichigo ichie', which means 'one time, one meeting'. The idea that every encounter is unique, fleeting and worthy of your full presence. Izakaya aren't precious or pristine. They're casual but soulful, where the clatter of dishes and laughter merge with the buzz of neon. It's where office workers cry after a hard day. Where lovers share secrets across plates of grilled squid. Where new friendships are born over cups of warm sake. This communal dining concept is less about ceremony, more about connection. Fluid, unfiltered and lubricated by alcohol, soft lighting and the comfort of small dishes that keep coming.
