The joys of cajun-style shrimp and using your hands

WHILE FOOD mainly plays in the arena of taste, its zenith lies in a meal’s way of arresting all the senses: imagine the sound of the tearing of bread, the sight of a well-plated fish, or else the rejuvenating aroma of a fine soup. Unfortunately, as for our sense of touch, food limits us to textures felt within the mouth, or else a delicate crumble beneath the weight of a fork.

It should come as a surprise then, that to this writer’s experience, one of the most memorable meals he has had was to be found in a mainstream family-style restaurant; not in some hallowed hall of a hotel, or else some well-kept secret cave in one of the city’s bowels.

The restaurant we speak of is Shrimp Bucket, with multiple branches around the city: in Ayala Malls The 30^th, in Il Terazzo Mall, in BGC, in UP Town Center, and in Circuit Makati, where ����ý dined late last month.

One can hardly find a setting more incongruous: while Barry White hits blared softly from the speakers to encourage conversation, the sound of shrimp shells breaking apart and the joyful sounds of munching still played in everybody’s ears.

The greasy shrimp, cooked in crab fat, olive oil, herbs and spices, lingered on the tongue and brought back memories of hurried meals in gazebos by swimming pools. The shrimp was placed in plastic bags, hardly an appetizing sight, but the large amount of crustaceans martyred in a bright red-orange sauce enticed one by way of a challenge. “Dare you to eat me,” the bag seemed to say.

Finally, the gloves provided during the meal to break up the shrimps gave the sense of touch a gift: there is a sense of communicating with nature, with the energy of the animal, while it encouraged communication among the people sitting at the table: there was no way anyone would have touched the screens of their phones with all that grease.

Paul Martires, the restaurant chain’s owner, a trim man with square-jawed looks reminiscent of an old-fashioned movie star, even taught me how to break up a shrimp more easily: break off the head, then the tail, then pull off the center.

The restaurant chain is now on its fifth year, but it has hardly made any noise. Apparently, Mr. Martires got the idea from two restaurants in LA back in 2007. “I hoped that there was a restaurant [like those] in Manila.” Five years onward, no one had popped up such a concept: Louisiana Cajun-style shrimp served in plastic bags.

“How come? It’s so easy! Shrimp is farmed in the Philippines. The sauce [recipes] are available online.” He didn’t want to go back to the US just for a taste, so in 2012, he rolled up his sleeves and made the restaurant himself. Mr. Martires has plans, meanwhile, to expand his operations outside Metro Manila.

He adds that his family’s background in shipping and logistics helped him grow his business. “The same with restaurants, in the back-end of the business, you need to know the flow of the goods: where are you going to get it, how are you going to get it there on time, and how do you do it consistently?”

Mr. Martires leaves nothing to chance: at first he thought that sourcing shrimp locally would be easier, but then found out that the large wealth of shrimp in the country was mainly meant for export. Mr. Martires then secured steady suppliers for himself for larger shrimps. And speaking of leaving nothing to chance, his restaurants keep anti-histamines in their branches, should some stubborn guest with an allergy still choose to indulge.

We were quite surprised to find out that Mr. Martires cooked at home – but then he said that he graduated with a major in Hotel and Restaurant Management abroad. He worked abroad for a while, but his family roped him into the family business, which he then took over by the time he was 30. An early fascination with cooking, however, serves now to form many memorable meals for many of his customers. He reminisces about dinners in front of Japanese hibachi tables, which he would try to do at home. “My dad would tell me, “Sige, sige, (Go on) Paul, cook the food today.” – Joseph L. Garcia