The dining room is abuzz this particular Sunday. It’s Josh Boutwood’s first weekend in his month-long residency at the Balmori, and from the look of the diners, it did not disappoint. Anvil is Boutwood’s answer to taking the helm (pardon the pun) of a Rockwell spot that has had thirteen before him, all providing unique culinary experiences.
The concept behind Boutwood’s latest foray is his vision of the blacksmith, aligning with his ethos of bringing produce-driven menus to a Manila that is evolving in its taste. As he emphasizes, “Nothing artsy, just really good food, done well.”
And this particular Sunday was just like that. There was no swagger as he walked into the kitchen, and from my vantage point, it was a quiet din – no kitchen drama. Like the blacksmith, just a repetitive clang of plates coming through, almost sorcery in the presentation.
The repast began with an exceptionally dry martini—Stolichnaya, I gather—lightly washed with dry vermouth. Shaken, Bond-style, I marveled at the shards of ice floating gently on the purity of the vodka, with three olives marinating in the Russian chill. Okay, Anvil, you’re one of the few places in the neighborhood that serves a martini with true gentility. The perfect way to open the palate.
The signature sourdough bread, served with smoked butter, made its way to the table. The waft of freshly baked bread is distinctly Boutwood, reminiscent of the early days of Test Kitchen (now at One Rockwell). Next came the hand-chopped wagyu round tartare with an egg emulsion—no gourmand would pass on this. Like his forte, it’s simple ingredients, seasoned well, and served à la minute. The flavors were so phenomenal, I craved more.
Almost simultaneously came another test of simplicity done well: a country pâté, a well-balanced medley of pork and chicken liver with pistachios. A well-portioned slice was served with warm brioche, cornichons, and a touch of Dijon. These starters alone made my Sunday, and with a sip of the chilled martini, I was left craving more of the same.
The surprise came in the form of an almost half-kilo pork chop, seared with sage and finished with a generous amount of pecorino romano. The grill is where Boutwood excels, showcasing his philosophy that “good food doesn’t need to be complicated.” That day, I set aside my manners and went straight for the bone. The chop was a delight for the senses, and I savored every bite, cleaning the meat off with all its caramelized glory. It was utterly savage (pardon the pun, once again).
Sadly, the meal ended with a custard flan—a true Ratatouille moment—taking me back to our San Juan home with its rich leche flan. I was left speechless.
Dining under the oculus is always an experience. Having sat at these tables since the beginning and returning again, Anvil by Josh Boutwood is a master class in quiet chaos, and for Rockwell, a masterclass in living well.
– Monchet Diokno Olives
