It was a Sunday — We had coffee at a friend’s place while Megan was “trying” to complete some assignments. Unfortunately, internet was crappy that time. We decided to go around and look for another spot that would allow Megan to do her thing. While we were cruising around, we all had a collective feeling — WE WERE ALL HUNGRY. Going around, we happened to pass by Wasted Chef. The place is right along Gorordo Avenue (across Asilo de Milagrosa). Seth and Martha have been wanting to visit this place for a long time. Every time we drove by, the place was packed with people. That fueled the curiosity more. And since all of us (especially Megan) were bored with the same old same old stuff, we decided to give this new place a shot. We decided to give it a try.
Seth: Oh, good! Eat-all-you-can shawarma, pasta, burger, and pizza. And we’re here early since they start at 6pm.
Martha: Yeah! What could go wrong with all four choices?
Shane: Time for us to go around and check the place a bit. Look at where we will sit.
Seth: Hmm, The place isn’t really big. It has an open area with wooden tables and benches. We have the option to stay either upstairs or downstairs.
Martha: Well, we know where we have to sit…
Seth: Stay downstairs we will, so we would be closer to the food…if you know what I mean.
Wasted Chef Employee: Ma’am/Sirs, pay first before we begin. (Smiles)
… And so we paid so we can start (we were hungry, as we said)
Megan: Ooohh, P250 all-you-can eat! This is a paradise on Earth for the all-you-can eaters.
Martha: Good price to feast on all these all-time favorites, right?
Megan: We’ll see later. For now, we eat!
We had the mini burgers, the “little” shawarma, there was the pasta, and thin slices of pizza. For the pasta, they had 2 kinds of sauce. The red one (Filipino style) and the oil-based sauce, Aglio Olio. The gang methodically went through all four food choices, like ninjas coursing through a huge mob of bandits, unnoticed and stealthy as they munched their way through the food on their wooden plates.
Now let´s put this in a better perspective, shall we?
Seth: First, the burgers…
Megan: Wow! The flames startled me. If I was any closer, I would have been the burger. Since I am already brown-skinned (or as the whites call it, “perfectly tanned”), I would definitely be ‘one burned burger’.
Martha: Haha, that’s a funny way of putting it. For me, the “slider” style was a smart way of preparing the burger. It gives you that idea of “I can have a lot” with its size.
Shane: Unique to use pita as the buns.
Seth: I was a bit surprised. They were small. I was expecting big ones. Oh well. In my mind, maybe (just maybe) they were delish. The first bite was already disappointing. I didn’t mind the bun or the vegetables. Gulp. I didn’t like it. It had a different I-don’t-know-how-to-describe taste.
Megan: They were clearly cooked straight from the freezer. Imagine a man being sun-burned into a black man. No matter what he would do, his frozen white skin will still shine through. That’s the kind of feeling I had looking at that burger after the first bite.
Seth: The patty was just not cooked well. From the outside, it looked well-cooked but when I took a bite, I saw that it was still pinkish inside.
Megan: No matter how much you increase the flame on a frozen burger, the inside will stay as raw as it was when it was first frozen (E-COLI anyone?).
Next, the shawarma.
Seth: Even if it was on the smaller side, I still gave it the benefit of the doubt. Who knows? Perhaps it was yummy. I had my first bite. Ooopppsss. The sauce was strong. Salty strong. Everything else was okay. But the sauce turned me off. Just like the burger, I didn’t finish it.
Megan: The shawarma was barely the size of my palm. So I decided to at least have a fist-full, which would be 2. In my mind, perhaps the shawarma will calm my appetite. That puny little thing, barely the size of a noodle of a little boy, wasn’t going to fill me up…wait a second…did I just say that?!? Damn it. The church is gonna get me.
Shane: I really did not like the sauce. Plus it was a bit soggy.
Martha: Well, they could have opted to give the customers the option to put the sauce once they pick up a piece to eat. They could prevent it from being soggy.
Megan: Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I was shocked into shawarma hell, where towel head-riding camels were passing me by, as if being chased by the devil himself, screaming “ya Allah!!!!” Perhaps even they wouldn’t handle this shawarma. I was kicked back into reality, when I couldn’t help myself but burp in pain, for my body was refusing to swallow this grimy piece of crap.
Martha: Totally agree! The sauce just blew off any chance of getting seconds, thirds, and more servings of this food favorite.
Seth: I love pasta. Who doesn’t? Even though the burger and shawarma disappointed me big time, I was still hoping that the pasta would be different. But no. The pasta itself, sans the sauce, wasn’t “Al Dente“. It was starchy. It gave the impression that it was already cooked at lunch and they just warmed it up…or something like that. Then the sauce…the red sauce, as expected, was the usual Filipino style sauce. It was just okay. I prefer Jollibee if I had the option. The oil-based sauce on the other hand was just…oily. I’ve had pasta with oil-based sauce before but this was one was just too oily. I couldn’t finish it.
Martha: True. The Filipino-style sauce was just not there. If I was a kid, I would still not agree with the taste.
Megan: I found myself engulfed in a tentacle-filled horror show called Spaghetti ala Filipino style. I have nothing to say about it for it sucked my brains, logic, and ass dry. Let’s just say…I suddenly found the company of poisonous snakes more comforting than this tentacle of horrors.
Shane: What a way to describe it! And sadly, I would agree. There was a confusion of taste – Am I adult or kiddie spaghetti?
Martha: The Aglio Olio. Too much pepper/basil. Cheddar cheese was okay. Though that made the taste very strong.
Last one. Pizza:
Seth: By this time I was already praying. Praying that the pizza would be the saving grace. C’mon! At least there should be something positive about this experience. Their pizza was thin-sliced, my kind of pizza. I ate it and it was okay. Not impressive though but it was just okay. Whew! I was relieved.
Megan: I looked at it with amazement and wonder. How could one serve this dried piece of heap, topped with a gooey substance that looked like cheese, and some burned moth balls?
Martha: Thin crust pizza, just the way most of us like it. It was good. Nothing special though. Wait, there were moth balls in it?
Megan: Supposedly it was meat. For a moment, it felt like a face off between me, a grown man, and this triangular-cut skinny piece of monstrosity. Munch punch, and in it went. To my surprise, this horror of a pizza turned out to be a mild beast compared to the other two. The shawarma still topped the horror list. My mind was racing, wanting to get rid of this foul taste in my mouth. Out of instinct, the first thing I grabbed was the glass of iced tea. It helped but only temporary. My hunger was still there despite my disappointment.
Martha: Out of the four food choices, this was that safest bet to eat more of though.
And…. Megan’s post-food crawl experience went straight to home:
“I figured from there on it could only get better in the sense of comparing knife wounds with bullet holes. Remember, we are still in hell, where the only thing that feels better is a ventilation shaft connected to that ass of the devil, at least it’s some sort of an air flow. Left mindless and disoriented, sweating out of my ass, wanting to barf all over the place, I rushed back home, hoping to relieve this nightmare within the comforts of my home. The moment I stepped into the house, all I could think of was the toilet. I rushed there, disregarding my wife, pushing her to the side and slamming the door behind me. Here I was, confronted with another problem. How to puke and poop at the same time since there is only one hole for both. Never in the history of healthy grown men have I heard anyone doing both things at the same time. Confounded with this deep philosophical question, my body burst out in tears and agony. Luckily, my wits kicked in. I grabbed a bucket, sat on the toilet, and let the wonder of nature happen. Fart, puke, fart, puke, and then it became faruke. It felt like little aliens in me wanting to burst out of me on both ends at the same time. I guess that’s how a cockroach feels when it is crushed and its innards shoot out on both ends.
As I sat there looking at the ceiling of our comfort room, every now and then my body would jerk as a brownling left my body, followed by the familiar sound of a fart. I realized, thanks to Wasted Chef. I did have a one of a kind experience. I faruked for the first time in my life. It’s something to remember and share with friends, while we laugh our asses off, that is…if there was still anything left of it.”
Wasted Chef. Hats off for taking my ass off.
That’s why we gave her sentiments a place of its own.
Seth: For this eat-all-you-can bonanza, you need to pay Php250. Fine. Maybe I was just expecting too much. For the price, perhaps they needed to sacrifice something. And in this case, it’s the taste. However, I’ve been to other places where they offer affordable food, and the quality was still outstanding. Kudos to them.
Martha: For the price, you would somehow “think” there would be something sacrificed. I just did not expect that it would be the taste. Good food can be made from cheap ingredients, you know?
VERDICT: The BIG question is — are we still going to eat at Wasted Chef? Nah. The food doesn’t warrant a second visit. You guys should try though. Experience it. Try the food and see for yourself. You have nothing to lose. Oh wait. In our case, there was. Our interest
N.B.. If there is by any chance the food prep would improve, that might be the time when we would consider trying again. Maybe…