A toast to Mao & Lenin at Fred's Revolucion, Cubao X

It was our usual Tiu family Sunday lunch, and I, stuffed with home-cooked Peruvian chicken rice, grilled steak, fried pork chops and wonton soup, was on my way out when my cousin Beverly told me, “My friends and I are going to Fred’s Revolucion at Cubao X tonight for ‘hangover margaritas.’ You’re welcome to join if you want.”

I surmised that it was a term she had coined herself due to the drink’s potency. “I have to train at 7:30 a.m. tomorrow. I can’t afford to be hung over,” I responded. She had a deadpan look on her face. “No, we are starting at 4 p.m. so we will have our hangover before the night ends.” I wasn’t sure if she was joking or not, but a) it was the long weekend, b) I had been wanting to try something “new” outside of our usual Makati/ Fort haunts, and c) I was certainly up for an adventure. It was decided.

A Place Within A Place Within A Place

I had been to Cubao X only once but it was back in 2007 for lunch at the much-spokenabout Italian restaurant, Bellini’s. I was curious to see how it had changed since. Chad and I arrived at 7:30 p.m. and unfortunately, many of the stores were already closed. The restaurants and bars literally shone like bright yellow lights in the darkness while drops of rain pattered on the streets.

It was his first time at Cubao X and he was amused by the reasonably priced handmade leather shoes of exceptional quality, and I found myself preoccupied with the cute little trinkets, like textured collar necklaces made entirely out of wax at a clothing shop called Stoic. Even if the other stores were closed, you could see the novelty of each: retro art, vintage furniture, custom-leather shoes, vinyl records and so much more. It was part of the charm of Cubao X: they were uncommon, non-commercial food, art and clothing. And as my cousin aptly described it, they were “places within a place within a place.”

Viva La Revolucion

We spotted Bev and her friends at Fred’s Revolucion, with a half-empty pitcher of mango daiquiri at a table that was partially inside and partially outside the bar, with some of the chairs spilling out onto the sidewalk. It felt very “open-house,” as if it really would welcome anyone who strolled by for a drink. A large print of the Philippine flag hung outside with words that read, “The Filipino spirit is waterproof.” It was the tagline coined by the Ayala Museum about the country’s recent emergence from the recent floods. I fell in love with the place already. It proudly wore the country’s heart on its “sleeve.”

Vladimir Lenin, Che Guevara, Ho Chi Minh and Karl Marx are just some of the faces you see when you walk into the whitewalled, wooden bar. Memorabilia like old photos, currencies from around the world, posters, flags, hats, T-shirts, coasters and quirky, fun signage about beers give the place its unique character. The bar was owned by business news editor Gina Abuyuan (my former editor in chief for Girlfriend magazine at One Mega Group), photojournalist Jose Enrique “Derek” Soriano and Red Constantino (son of a sociopolitical activist and grandson of a leftist historian).

The communist, Asian, Middle East and European propaganda were some of Derek’s and Red’s collectibles, and the currencies on the wall were contributions from the bar’s patrons. None of the owners are named Fred, but coincidentally, Gina, Derek and Red all had grandfathers who were named Fred; hence, the name.

P185 Daiquiri Pitchers

What blew me away was that the delicious pitcher of mango daiquiri was only P185! (My cousin said she and her friends had already wiped out the ‘hangover margaritas’). That is a steal these days, even cheaper than one glass at the bars in Makati or the Fort! I was a bit weary at first since the last few cocktails I tried with that price were crappy ones that gave you a nasty headache right after and an even more terrible hangover the next day. That wasn’t the case. The daiquiris were sweet and delicious, and our party must have had about five or six pitchers until we wiped out the bar’s entire stash. Every time we ordered a new pitcher, they waited for us to finish our current one and re-filled it with a fresh batch, just like in a typical neighborhood bar.

Bar chow was the name of the menu’s game. Their fish ‘n’ chips are fish sticks fried in Coors beer batter, and fries served with dilis, an inventive Filipino twist that added a tinge of sweetness, served with vinegar. I sat at the bar and it was the dish that I saw come out of the kitchen most often all throughout the night.

The grilled pork strips, described as “like bacon, but better” were marinated in spices. Farmers’ oysters — sautéed in butter, garlic and parsley— were served in a small cup. You could either spoon the oysters directly into your mouth or with a sprinkle of paprika or black pepper, which is served on the saucer for a fiery kick. If you just feel like stuffing something in your mouth every time you have a sip, a plate of the Nude Nuts, assorted peanuts fried in bagnet oil, will do the trick.

As the night progressed, the bar began to get really crowded. There were now tables on the streets. I had since moved on to The Minx, a nice, sexy concoction of Bailey’s, vodka and amaretto, topped with chocolate shavings, nodding along to Nirvana and Pearl Jam hits, when I pointed at the picture of Lenin. “Look, he looks like someone we know.” Chad and Bev then launched into a deep conversation about Lenin, Russian history and politics, finally ending with the recent news about Russian punk band Pussy Riot’s recent sentence. It is a bar that can stir conversations quite above trivial matters, and an ambience that differentiates itself from the generics in the city these days: one with character and spunk yet is friendly in service. It is a gem.

So maybe I woke up the next day with alcohol still in my head, but it wasn’t the “I-need-an- Advil” type of hangover, rather a nice happy buzz, with a fond recollection of an enjoyable nightcap. And I made it to the gym for a hardcore training session without passing out.

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Fred’s Revolucion is located at Shop 66, Cubao X, Gen. Romulo Street, Cubao, Quezon City. It is open Tuesdays to Sundays from 6 p.m. to 1 a.m. Payment is cash only. You can e-mail freds.revolucion@ gmail.com,

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You can reach me at http://www.twitter.com/ cheryltiu.