ELSA Bldg. is what’s embossed right above the name Dainty Restaurant. For those of us who do not know, we will continue to wonder who Elsa was. And perhaps we will never ever know.
Dainty Restaurant first opened in 1937, according to Manang Marcela Tom Liwan, one of the cashiers of the famous watering hole whom I was able to interview through text messaging with his daughter Engr. Diane Magallano.
Its operation was disturbed in the Second World War and reopened again sometime in 1945. After 56 years or almost six decades of serving the public, and to the surprise of many; it finally closed on January 1, 1998.
Dainty Restaurant’s first operation was managed by Ng Ah Dok, its original owner who handed it down to his son Ng Ah Chin, more popularly known by his customers as Ah Khong. He passed away sometime in 2003 or 2004.
By the way, Ah Khong’s wife Anna just died the third week of January 2020 and was buried on January 22, a few days before the Chinese Spring Festival or Chinese New Year. Both are survived by their children Daisy and Willy who operated the place as an ice cream parlor called Session Delights after it closed as Dainty Restaurant.
Manang Marcela said there were already Filipino helpers at Dainty namely Peter Begawen, now a retired teacher; the late Alberto Cabanban, and Rufino Padillo whom she found working with mestizo Chinese Ben Wong Sr. and Roger Lee when she first joined the restaurant’s workforce in the mid-60s.
People of all kinds and forms, coming from all sectors troop to Dainty any time of the day and evening to dine or drink coffee. The common joke is that the coffee is strong enough to kick one’s consciousness because it is brewed with Ah Kong’s socks in a stainless boiler.
As one who had the chance and pleasure to witness Dainty’s existence even for just a short while, I looked at it as a place with wide democratic space being a restaurant “by the people, of the people and for the people.”
At any given time, one of the big round tables is shared by government workers, lawyers, gamblers and sabungeros (cockfighters), seated with “born again” pastors or religious people.
Around another table was occupied by newsmen trying to squeeze out interviews from politicians seated with contractors, swindlers, and people who become overnight businessmen and salesmen.
Dainty was where I heard that salesmen here sell anything and everything from “dagum (needle) to a bulldozer,” and that sometime in the past a very resourceful businessman had a lot plans drawn for the Burnham Lake area that realtor middlemen used in their transactions.
Then in one corner, Kankanaey-Macao mestizo Ruben Murphy, a loyal Dainty employee stands and waits to receive your winning bets in Jueteng. Manang Marcela said he died five years ago.
Remember also John Malasmas, the waiter who gladly waits on newsmen gathered in the evening around a table under the stairwell leading to the upper floor. I did not know until I was told that John is the hubby of Remy, the other cashier. Apparently, they caught each other’s eyes when he was waiting while the other was counting.
John was usually the one who served the newsmen water and pulutan as “chasers” to a couple of 4 by 4 Ginebras brought in by veteran newsman Sid, the lone member of the Chammag News Agency.
It was under that staircase when one rainy and tipsy evening, Manong Sid, who was then called by President Ramos as “Dean Chammag” narrated his story about how one of his ears was damaged.
According to him, he joined then-Philippine Constabulary Chief Fidel Ramos on a helicopter flight above Buguias to check on the construction of a public school when surprisingly on the ground, PC soldiers who were on foot patrol were ambushed by a squad of NPAs in the area.
PC Chief FVR, who saw the incident, instructed one of his men in the helicopter to make sure that “no news of the ambush will be reported tomorrow.” But as expected of Sid, he reported the incident that saw print in Bulletin and its sister publications.
FVR, who was still in Camp Holmes (now Camp Dangwa), ordered his men to bring Sid Chammag to him, which they did. The sad thing is that after FVR talked to him and was being brought back to Baguio, one of his soldier escorts hit him with the butt of a gun that damaged one of his ears.
When we asked why he sent the news report despite FVR’s order, Sid said, “Kababain nga maiskupan ka ti sarilim nga dyaryo” (It is shameful to be scooped by your own newspaper). That was manong Sid’s story under the Dainty stairwell.
But FVR too had fleeting moments at Dainty in 1994 when he was President. This president simply hates formalities that one morning after jogging at the Teachers Camp sports oval, he walked down Session Road in his slippers and escaped from his presidential guards by taking a left turn to enter Dainty.
Then PSG head, Col. Nelson Allaga of Ifugao and Mankayan, who was walking behind FVR had no choice but just allow the boss his instant wishes, knowing that no one from among the crowd of a favorite watering hole in Baguio would do harm to the President.
Once inside Dainty Restaurant, PFVR was back to his old self as he chatted with politicians, newsmen and ordinary people over a cup of Benguet coffee and his ever present tabako. I really had that unusual feeling upon seeing a president become human again. And that is only once in a blue moon, or never.
Aside from serving the “best coffee in the world,” the walls of Dainty heard stories told by prominent politicians such as the late Benguet Governor Ben Palispis. And so with the late Governor Jimmy Paul Panganiban.
I still remember sitting in between the two who were officially out of politics then. In their conversations, both agreed that the proponents of regional autonomy should always consider the reality that Benguet has been for the “longest time the financial backbone of the whole region and Manila for having produced electricity, gold, copper, silver, timber for the mines, and employment” without receiving just and equitable returns.
Then Panganiban turns to me and asks about what I wrote for the weekend paper. “Anya manen ti sinalawasaw mu tadta?” he asks in a successful attempt to amuse all of us who are seated around Ah Khong’s round table.
I also recall one time, the late Gov. Palispis asked me if the news about the alleged “treasure hunting” at the Melvin Jones stage was true. In connection to his question, he admitted that after the war, he also ventured into “treasure hunting,” together with his best friend, the late Sinai Hamada.
By lunchtime, he would ask his driver or Ruben, the waiter to buy dog meat pulutan from Sagada restaurant. Then when it is time to go, the governor pays the bill by slipping money to whoever is seated beside him and says “pay and keep the change”.
Dainty Restaurant was the right venue for a relaxing hot coffee with equals and co-workers willing to update each other with the latest news, rumor, and humor in town. It was one of the places where I was introduced to all kinds of humans.
Sometime in 1995, the late Ramon “Mondacs” Dacawi introduced me to his Hungduan townmate Mario Pugong a.k.a “Ka Elias” on the second floor of Dainty. The erstwhile NPA cadre had then joined the mainstream by getting voted upon and converting himself into a barangay kapitan.
His story was that, since tribes in the Cordillera had a culture and terrain different from the lowlands and therefore should be treated somewhat differently, Ka Elias had a proposal to the Communist Party of the Philippines Central Command during his time with the movement in the 70s for the creation of the Federation of Igorot Tribes for Liberation (FITL). It was not realized.
Local musicians too had something to say about the closure of Dainty Restaurant. Hec Cruz of Bagiw (band) and The Blank said Dainty served the best miki-bihon pansit, lechon rice, beef ampalaya rice and police rice. This was his comment on Facebook. “Sadly it is now extinct.”
Macks Carantes Stephenson, also of Bagiw Band, said she had lots of memories “with my late father who died in 1969…taking us out to dinner in Dainty after a movie was the highlight of our week.”
Musician–Businesswoman Linda Jane “LJ” Laurico who would slip away from her Harpo’s Bar at Puso ng Baguio had this to say about Dainty: “Upstairs we would make our streamline cake and cokes nga kunada last so we could watch the boys go up and down Session Road ngarud…”
Lawyer Jose “Bubut” Olarte said, “Diay last slice ti loaf, isu ti pang punas mo diay nabati diay plato nga sauce ti pancit guisado ti Dainty…” (with the last slice of loaf bread, that is what you use to wipe off from the plate the remaining sauce of pancit guisado of Dainty).
Undeniably, Dainty Restaurant – its coffee, the food, Ah Khong, the restaurant workers and the crowd will remain in our memory. Its DNA is with us who stepped in there. This is an old column circa 2020. March was hit by a blackout. He will be back next week.
