Manilabake's Gretchen Consunji-Lim kneads to remember
The tinapay trailblazer has enough poignant stories behind her to write a memoir. She's kneaded them into dough instead.
Magpakumbaba is a suitable name for the street Gretchen Consunji-Lim bakes from. Since 2012, she’s run Manilabake, making an eclectic range of breads and pastries with monastic dedication. Brioche cinnamon rolls that have achieved fluffy nirvana from a three-day process; textbook-chewy New York bagels minus the gluten; sourdough bread no stranger to native grains, and years before black rice boules or adlai loaves popped up in buzzier bakeries. Remarkably, she’s done all this undetected by the madding crowd of foodfluencers bloodthirsty for the next gimmicky, ’grammable treat to make viral.
For over a decade, Gretchen has kept her head down, oblivious to marketing but focused feverishly on product R&D. Some recipes have taken her years to perfect, such as a gluten-free Orange Upside Down Cake that her friend Bea Misa, founder of eco-general store Ritual, challenged her to bake with banana flour. Another, mini-baguettes molded by a moment in Manila’s history:
“There was a time in the ‘70s when there were a lot of Vietnamese refugees here,” Gretchen says, recalling the banh mi-inspired baguettes her parents once discovered at a refugee camp run by Vietnamese nuns. “It was like they’d found gold. I remember how excited they were.” Years later, working for IBM, Gretchen made a friend who once taught at one of those refugee camps and was nostalgic for the baguettes of her childhood. Manilabake’s Banh Mi Baguette is a delicious nod to these encounters.
Gretchen may have named her bakery as a punny tribute to the historic bay, but many of its recipes map out her memories of Manila and beyond — and damned if the city itself hasn’t been quick to catch on.
Opened as a restaurant along Katipunan in 2012, Manilabake’s brick-and-mortar would close two years later. Her husband Alvin’s Filipino restaurant Seryé, would close as well, though the Internet hasn’t forgotten about its legendary kare-kare — a tribute to Gretchen’s parents. “Tatay would say he refused an English job in Spain back in the ‘50s because he would miss kare-kare and Nanay, having married a guy who repeated this story a lot, had to figure out how to make a really good one,” Gretchen says of their recipe.
From a sleepy Sikatuna Village street, Manilbake continues to cater to a cult following. Their Viber group has welcomed a spurt of activity since they introduced their gluten-free items. “I have a really good friend in the States who’s gluten-intolerant and I’ve seen her struggle,” she says. “I get it now.”
Gluten-free or not, Manilabake’s goods are worth going out of your way for. And if you happen to drop in and ask, the salt-and-pepper-haired lady at the till may share a winding story behind each bake. Sitting down with Gretchen over a buffet of breads and spreads, I asked about hers.
What sparked your interest in baking, Gretchen?
When I was nine years old. I read all the baking and cookbooks that my mother had. She went to all the cooking classes — she would bake and she would cook but I was intimidated, I guess? So I would just watch her and never really do anything. This is like the early ‘70s so it was Better Homes & Gardens, magazines like that. And my father really collected books so there was Jacques Pépin, Julia Child, Robert Carrier — [who’s] probably forgotten. He had the Playboy cookbooks…
I had a sister who was a brilliant cook and they sent her to Chinese culinary [school] and she was nine and she was making hakaw. But me, I would just read [about cooking and baking]. So I knew in my head how to make a croissant…but never act on it.
I started to act on it only when I was already in corporate. Three of us siblings were in corporate. My sister, the one who cooks, was in med school. So we took a recipe of my sister’s and just decided to make it a business. It was a tri-level brownie. It was successful because we had a ready market, and then we just gave [my sister] royalties. And then that got me thinking — okay, I can start to bake. But I also didn’t want to bake anything that my mother was baking, or that was out in the market.
So I started with biscotti. Not really a good choice in the early ‘90s because people didn’t know it and they would really say, “Masarap sana kaya lang matigas.” Or “Why is it shaped this way?” So it was a climb.
What was your business known as then?
I don’t know if people will remember it but it was Biscotteria Manila for a little bit. We were with the pioneer Salcedo Market group. So I teamed up with Tommy [Villanueva] who was selling coffee. We were together in a stall. I was selling biscotti and some other muffins. Before that, [we were at] The American Women’s Club, they hold a bazaar once a month. They’re all these expats who have fundraising and it’s a big bazaar and they screen you and I was lucky I got in in the early 2000s.
So I was going to those markets. Oh, and I had a short stint making Apple Wreaths and supplying them to Pancake House. So this is in 2004. It was a seasonal coffee cake that they wanted to offer. It was actually babka dough but not the way people know it today. It was in wreath form, a little bit of braiding, but it had apples inside. Short stint, maybe less then five months. And I would do it myself — bake about 100 wreaths every other day. I got my arms really toned kasi you’re rolling it out. We still offer it [via Manilabake] seasonally like for Lent and for Christmas.
I first got familiar with Manilabake through Metronome. Chef Miko [Calo] served me a bread basket that included your mini-multigrain loaf (as seen in video below). How did you wind up supplying them?
I think Miko saw a post in Good Food Community with our black rice bread. That’s what she got excited about. So she gave me a call and she was like, “We want to feature your bread and have your name there.”
So it was like a collaboration. She wanted whole grain. And then she goes, “I like the idea of the black rice.” What if we put more stuff like adlai and monggo? So she said, “Yeah, let’s do it.” This is whole grain, 60%, I think theirs was more, so it was denser.
Manilabake used to be a brick-and-mortar bakery along Katipunan around 2012. What led to you closing it two years later?
The rent just doubled. It was 40K then it became 80K. Our commissary for the restaurant was there so we had to move out.
I was looking at the old menu and one of the items was tapul champorado. These days, using native ingredients like that is a lot more common.
Yeah, I had a talk in 2009 where I was saying, “Philippine produce is on the rise and we’re right there because we’re a Filipino bakery, so let’s go!” That was really the whole point of Manilabake. The kasuy from Bataan, the chocolate is local, the black rice, the calamansi… but we got all tabunan as you can see.
What was that talk for? Was it with your staff?
It was just in an operations meeting with Seryé and Manilabake folks. We would get the occasional reviewer saying that the food we served was good but expensive for Filipino food and my husband and I had probably just had it with that — like a kilo of oxtail for kare-kare is cheaper than a kilo of oxtail for an Italian stew. And then the staff would be so taken with stores opening up — macaron places and such — with continental appointments.
Do you feel vindicated now considering you were doing this more than 10 years ago?
Yeah…? Kind of. But then also, how come people weren’t…? I think it would have worked if I was a millennial, but I’m not.
What’s your criteria for what to add to the Manilabake menu?
Having local produce front and center, and also our history. That’s kind of a cop-out because I really wanted to put apple pie because it was a favorite of my father’s. But he said, “You know what? I was seven years old going to La Salle” — this was 1930-something — “And we had apple pie!” Okay, so I can add it.
So it’s important for you to source locally?
Yes, right now I’m excited about this spice that Bea [Misa] is telling me to use. Cinnamon leaves, I don’t know what the local term is. It’s just nicer than cinnamon. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s different and it’s yummy. I’m gonna put it in a pastry for her.
But also, growing up, my parents — we were seven kids — would pack us all in a yellow combi and we would go out of town. Not something that was done in the ‘70s so much but we ended up in Sorsogon, Ilocos Norte, Bohol… So then they would be excited about the local torta, usually the local longganisa, empanada, kakanin. So that kind of thing.
Speaking of exploration, can you share some of your favorite places in your neighborhood?
For Coffee: HILLTOP EVERYDAY COFFEE ROASTERS
They’re in a building that’s by a well-known architect. Their coffee and croissants are good.
Go-To Chinese Deli: LITTLE STORE ON THE HILL
I get Chinese lumpia here — it’s substantial, half is enough for a meal. And you can ask them not to put fresh garlic if you prefer. They’ve been around for years. Also, HOLLAND DELI next to Unimart’s entrance for hopia and kuchay pie.
If you’re familiar with Duck & Buvette in Shangri-La, they’re the same people behind that. They just changed their menu but you can’t go wrong with a lot of their stuff.
Miscellaneous Musts: TOMO for Japanese from the former chef of Sugi Greenhills. FRANCESCO’s for Italian. THE CORNER HOUSE for strolling through a building that’s well-constructed — airy, clean lines, and interesting design.
Guilty Pleasure: GLORIA MARIS
I go here a lot. They have good days. My husband sometimes says, “Oh, the chefs are really bringing it today.” (Laughs)
Manilabake is open Tuesdays to Saturdays, from 7AM to 5PM. Or find Manilabake on Instagram and Facebook. Orders can be made via mobile at +63919-001-2857.
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SPREAD ‘EM: The Nut Co.
As any local food bazaar or bombardment of IG ads might show, nut spreads are an SME darling. Is there a glut of nut butters out there? Perhaps. But I prefer to see it as a golden age — just like the glorious riot of pop girlies we’ve surrendered our ears to lately.
From the wild cashew butters of Palawan-based Pedro’s to the Maxine’s almond butter multiverse, each spread has its strengths. But one brand I recently encountered at the Salcedo Market has real star power when it comes to spreadability and complexity (as demonstrated on one of Manilabake’s Cinnamon Raisin bagels below).
With a food science background in tow, CJ Torres opened the The Nut Co. in 2022, offering a trio of all-natural variants. A knockout catalog with consistently smooth stylings that make it the Sabrina Carpenter of nut butter brands. There’s a Pinoy-blend peanut butter (₱275) that’s as pourable as ganache, serving up just enough sweetness to compliment kare-kare or quell kiddie merienda cravings. Excellent stirred into an iced latte, too, CJ says.
On the flip side, their sugar-free almond butter (₱365) is so straightforward, it’s basically pure roasted almond paste — one you can easily blend with frozen fruit and yogurt for a protein-rich smoothie.
Finally, as fluffy (and savory) as cream cheese is their cashew butter (₱365). It’s so premium and indulgent, I’ve made it a plant-based mainstay on my charcuterie board. Among the three, an absolute Mafalda Must.
Find The Nut Co. on Saturdays at The Salcedo Market, where they also sell croissants, pain au chocolat, and kouign amman — or order from Shopee or the @thenutco.ph Instagram.