Story Annie Z. Nisce
Photography Ed Simon
Many thanks to Mona and Ricky Alvendia and Michael's Marikit Amorado
Additional information from Wikipedia.com, the Free Encyclopedia


Driving from Angono along the main highway toward Binangonan town, through Cardona town, you get a sweeping view of the picturesque Laguna de Bay, alternating with seemingly endless verdant rice fields that inspired many-an artist, like Botong Francisco and Jose Blanco to capture them forever on canvas for generations to contemplate—and work at preserving the beauty that's still left there.

I was indulging in my own heart-warming food moments as a child. Hito (catfish), dalag (mudfish), which lakeshore locals call Isda ng Tabang—freshwater fish—and hipon (shrimp) and talangka (crablets). All these used to be abundant in Manila and a staple at home. I remember my mother buying the fish from vendors passing by our house, always at the same time, balancing on their shoulders a pole with two huge, sturdy woven baskets on both ends, heavy with the fresh, wriggly catch of the day. We were already their suki (regular customer), so we'd get them at a good price.

It's always a good idea to cook these fish fresh, literally hopping in the pot, but as hito and its other distant cousins have that unnerving quality of quickly slipping out of your hands and on to the floor, it was indeed a sight to see my parents and the house help engage in a game of catch-me-if-you-can until they finally give the poor thing a smart whack on the head, at least to stun it into cooperating. Now, animal rights folks may take us to task for this, but how else can you get them into the pot for the day's lunch?

That is why, on our next stop, Michael's in Binangonan, famous for its excellent dalag dishes, I had to ask these experts if they already had discovered a more humane way of cooking dalag and hito. Unfortunately, they explained that these fish are real toughies and there's no other way to prepare them than to give them that traditional whack! And so we sat down for another bingeing session of treasures from the Lake. First-timers may rightly point out that ambience isn't one of Michael's strong points; even the owners shyly admit so. But for food enthusiasts, ambience is a distant second to food quality and flavor. I can best describe Michael's as a karinderya taken some notches higher. Sprawling, spacious and airy, it houses several karinderya-style tables and long benches. However, you don't do things turo-turo style. You can actually sit down properly in your more-or-less private space and have someone take your order from the menu.

The restaurant started in 1990 as a sari-sari store. Pioneering couple Lucy and Ben Reyes had eight children to feed and so slowly but surely started to expand the business into a one-seat affair where one can enjoy hot meals of pansit and adobo. Then it hit Ben that they could do business with the fish that's so abundant in their region. Daughters Bernadeth Reyes-Aralar and Marikit Reyes-Amorado have fond childhood memories of catching dalag as big as a man's arm in shallow waters. Pollution however, has taken its toll on the ecosystem and the fish has become scarcer. Even then, Bernadeth affirmed, "We always make it a point to get our fish fresh everyday from the market. We hardly keep anything in stock because freshness has a lot to do with flavor. You don't wait; you cook them right away to keep the flavor. I think that is why we are considered one of the places to go to for good fish dishes."