Latest news with #Askal

Sydney Morning Herald
09-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
Find real-deal Filipino flavours at this new Fitzroy spot
Previous SlideNext Slide Filipino$ Filipino chef Fhred Batalona has opened Palay with Ralph Libo-on and Michael Mabuti (Askal, Kariton Sorbetes). The star of the brunch menu is arroz caldo, a nourishing Filipino chicken rice porridge flavoured with a heady hit of ginger and fish sauce, and topped with boiled eggs, fried garlic and chives. From 5pm, a Filipino 'tapas' menu kicks in. Sydney rock oysters are dressed with an adobo sauce that 'slaps you in the face'. Sizzling sisig combines pig's ear, cheek and belly into an unctuous dish that gets extra smoky from being fired by the grill, then the wok. There's also a 'secret' vegan menu to cater to plant-based fans. The above-mentioned arroz caldo uses vegan chicken stock, and adobo fried tofu can be added. And instead of serving Filipino liver spread with the house-baked pandesal (quintessentially Filipino bread rolls), the vegan alternative is an umami-rich mushroom paste. Plus, nothing on the menu is over $30. And if you're on a budget, you could just pop in for a few skewers: the inihaw (grilled) section is priced between $5 and $7.

The Age
09-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
Find real-deal Filipino flavours at this new Fitzroy spot
Previous SlideNext Slide Filipino$ Filipino chef Fhred Batalona has opened Palay with Ralph Libo-on and Michael Mabuti (Askal, Kariton Sorbetes). The star of the brunch menu is arroz caldo, a nourishing Filipino chicken rice porridge flavoured with a heady hit of ginger and fish sauce, and topped with boiled eggs, fried garlic and chives. From 5pm, a Filipino 'tapas' menu kicks in. Sydney rock oysters are dressed with an adobo sauce that 'slaps you in the face'. Sizzling sisig combines pig's ear, cheek and belly into an unctuous dish that gets extra smoky from being fired by the grill, then the wok. There's also a 'secret' vegan menu to cater to plant-based fans. The above-mentioned arroz caldo uses vegan chicken stock, and adobo fried tofu can be added. And instead of serving Filipino liver spread with the house-baked pandesal (quintessentially Filipino bread rolls), the vegan alternative is an umami-rich mushroom paste. Plus, nothing on the menu is over $30. And if you're on a budget, you could just pop in for a few skewers: the inihaw (grilled) section is priced between $5 and $7.

The Age
30-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
For years, I rarely saw my culture in the media. The Wiggles helped change that
While scrolling on Instagram recently, I saw John Adamo Pearce – the purple Wiggle – teaching kids how to sing Bahay Kubo, the Filipino song I sang as a child that names vegetables growing in a backyard. Pearce, a proud Filipino-Australian, often showcases his culture through fun Instagram reels with his mum, Flordeliza. When I see my culture represented in the media, I still experience a 'pinch-me' feeling. Growing up in the '70s and '80s, it was rare to see it depicted in mainstream Western media. But that's gradually changing. Two years ago, Sesame Street introduced TJ, the first Filipino-American Muppet. Arvin Garcia, a Filipino nurse from Melbourne, won the reality cooking show The Great Australian Bake Off last year. And in the 2023 season, MasterChef Australia featured Filipino-Australian chefs, including Ross Magnaye, cooking traditional dishes (both Jamie Oliver and Gordon Ramsay have dined at Magnaye's Melbourne restaurant, Serai, with Ramsay hailing Magnaye's taco sisig as the best dish he's tasted in years). There's more: the Good Food Guide (produced by Nine, publisher of Sunday Life) awarded one hat to Askal, a Filipino restaurant in Melbourne. The owners of Askal have also opened a bar called Inuman (Filipino for 'drinking session'), making it the first rooftop bar in Australia that serves cocktails using ingredients such as lemongrass, durian, lambanog (Palm liquor), ube (purple yam) and pandan. Representation matters. It is empowering for children of any non-white background to see their culture showcased in the media. It is not just about cultural pride; seeing someone in the media who looks like them sends the message that they, too, can succeed. In 2022, there were 320,300 Filipino-born people living in Australia, up from 206,110 a decade earlier. This makes us the fifth-largest migrant community in the country. But that fact hasn't stopped me from sometimes feeling isolated. As an exchange student in Perth in 1994, I was the only Filipino in my dorm. A Singaporean roommate said to me, 'You're the first Filipina I met who's my equal.' I don't think she meant to be disrespectful. But the only people from my culture she encountered in Singapore in the '90s were domestic helpers. I am mighty proud of these women; they are often teachers who make the sacrifice of working abroad to provide financially for their families at home. I am often mistaken for Vietnamese, Malaysian, Thai, Singaporean or Chinese. At university, many Spanish-speaking students assumed I'd be Latina because of my surname. Recently, an Australian neighbour told me, 'You're not like the other Asians. You don't use chopsticks, right?'

Sydney Morning Herald
30-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
For years, I rarely saw my culture in the media. The Wiggles helped change that
While scrolling on Instagram recently, I saw John Adamo Pearce – the purple Wiggle – teaching kids how to sing Bahay Kubo, the Filipino song I sang as a child that names vegetables growing in a backyard. Pearce, a proud Filipino-Australian, often showcases his culture through fun Instagram reels with his mum, Flordeliza. When I see my culture represented in the media, I still experience a 'pinch-me' feeling. Growing up in the '70s and '80s, it was rare to see it depicted in mainstream Western media. But that's gradually changing. Two years ago, Sesame Street introduced TJ, the first Filipino-American Muppet. Arvin Garcia, a Filipino nurse from Melbourne, won the reality cooking show The Great Australian Bake Off last year. And in the 2023 season, MasterChef Australia featured Filipino-Australian chefs, including Ross Magnaye, cooking traditional dishes (both Jamie Oliver and Gordon Ramsay have dined at Magnaye's Melbourne restaurant, Serai, with Ramsay hailing Magnaye's taco sisig as the best dish he's tasted in years). There's more: the Good Food Guide (produced by Nine, publisher of Sunday Life) awarded one hat to Askal, a Filipino restaurant in Melbourne. The owners of Askal have also opened a bar called Inuman (Filipino for 'drinking session'), making it the first rooftop bar in Australia that serves cocktails using ingredients such as lemongrass, durian, lambanog (Palm liquor), ube (purple yam) and pandan. Representation matters. It is empowering for children of any non-white background to see their culture showcased in the media. It is not just about cultural pride; seeing someone in the media who looks like them sends the message that they, too, can succeed. In 2022, there were 320,300 Filipino-born people living in Australia, up from 206,110 a decade earlier. This makes us the fifth-largest migrant community in the country. But that fact hasn't stopped me from sometimes feeling isolated. As an exchange student in Perth in 1994, I was the only Filipino in my dorm. A Singaporean roommate said to me, 'You're the first Filipina I met who's my equal.' I don't think she meant to be disrespectful. But the only people from my culture she encountered in Singapore in the '90s were domestic helpers. I am mighty proud of these women; they are often teachers who make the sacrifice of working abroad to provide financially for their families at home. I am often mistaken for Vietnamese, Malaysian, Thai, Singaporean or Chinese. At university, many Spanish-speaking students assumed I'd be Latina because of my surname. Recently, an Australian neighbour told me, 'You're not like the other Asians. You don't use chopsticks, right?'