According to chef Lourdes Fronteras, "sari sari" means to mix and add whatever you want to your food. And mingling flavors appropriately suits Fronteras, the former day chef at nearby El Mundo, who was born to a restaurant-owning Puerto Rican/Filipino mother and Japanese/Filipino father. The recently opened Sari Sari is no fusion restaurant, however; it serves straightforward Philippine — Visayan-style — cuisine. (Fronteras hails from the centrally located Visayan Islands.) Remarkably light yet savory, these dishes offer fresh vegetables and an abundance of Visayan’s signature flavors of lemon grass, garlic and vinegar.The eatery’s aromatic food is served in a laid-back dining room. It’s teeny — six tables — but comfortable. The decor clearly represents the Southeast Asian islands of origin. Picture Pier 1 merged with an oceanside cafe, with butter-yellow walls adorned with artwork for sale and Philippine artifacts. Primary-colored tiles dot the tabletops and colorful lights dangle from rope curtains above the storefront window. If the looks didn’t transport me to the islands, the enthusiastic staff and help-yourself attitude did — utensils and napkins are there for the taking in a tableside caddy and glasses of water are brought out in tropical-inspired plastic tumblers.
I learned that Sari Sari was still tweaking its menu when I visited this spring and tried to order a few appealing entrees that were no longer available. I began by sampling two of the three selections on the short appetizers list. The lumpia ($4.75), a Philippine version of a Chinese egg roll, lacked the grease so noticeable in that well-known pastry. Roughly six medium-sized, deep-fried egg rolls contained a vegetable stuffing of carrots, zucchini and red onion. With a Philippine version of soy sauce, which blends in lemon juice, vinegar, black pepper and green onion, these bites provided a tangy start to my meal.
Another appetizer, the Pinatubo pancake ($4.75), resembled a large potato round, yet revealed no potato. Rather, crisp bean sprouts, super-small pecan slices, parsley, lemon grass and onion bits melded together in a fluffy egg mixture that was then fried until golden and served with the abovementioned soy sauce. Airy with subtle spice notes, the pancake benefited from the refreshing crunch of the bean sprouts. The portion was large enough — and tasty enough — to be an entree.
For my entree I opted for chicken adobo ($9). Adobo is the national dish of the Philippines; in this version, tender chicken chunks sitting in a small bowl revealed traces of sweet brown sugar, tart vinegar, punchy pepper and garlic marinade. The meat floated in an aromatic lemon grass-infused broth, which softened the flavors of this subtle concoction. The dish was accompanied by jasmine rice and Philippine-style red beans, which were prepared using Frontera’s grandmother’s recipe. The red beans were slightly mashed and seasoned. My server made the wise recommendation of combining the rice with the chicken broth mixture, which created a distinctive stew. Despite its many flavors, the dish remained fragrant and light, with no one taste overpowering the next — a balanced and soothing dish.
My husband ordered the pancit bichon ($8) with shrimp (an added $1.50). The plate overflowed with translucent cellophane noodles. Bits of cabbage, zucchini, yellow squash and onion overwhelmed the few pieces of grilled shrimp (served with the tail on). It came with a redundant side of jasmine rice. The dish shared attributes of similar Thai noodle dishes, minus the pleasing Thai spices and sauce. Unfortunately, unlike many Thai noodle dishes, these ingredients produced only a mild, bland flavor.
From the four dessert offerings we ordered flan de leche ($3.25), which looked more like an ice cream sundae than a traditional flan. Covered in whipped cream and chocolate sauce, with a cherry on top, the flan possessed a just-thawed-cheesecake-like texture. The banana que ($2) presented two grilled plantains on a stick dusted with sugar. This was a departure from the more typical fried and caramelized version. The plantains were a bit dry, but still provided a modestly sweet ending.
Despite being listed on the menu, beef was not an option during my first visit. However, during a recent lunch I was able to order a beef stir fry ($9), which I was told will become a permanent menu item. Tiny slices of marinated skirt steak were blended together with a colorful amalgam of sliced vegetables, including potato, onion, red pepper and green pepper. The vegetables glistened under a soft coating of soy sauce and vinegar. However, the ingredients — not the sauce — starred. Sauteed to a soft crunch, the vegetables’ innate freshness held true and harmonized well with the beef slices. A decent amount of spices perked up the dish but did not smother it.
Shrimp Visayan-style ($11) maintained the same freshness and even more flavor. Pieces of rock shrimp sauteed to a point where they popped and crunched in the mouth were accompanied by crisp bean sprouts, green beans, onions, broccoli, squash, carrots and plenty of garlic and lemon grass. A sour-yet-fragrant flavor overwhelmed the dish, but in an ethereal way.
Sari Sari stands up as a cheerful addition to the Frankfort Avenue corridor and the Louisville dining scene. Fronteras says she plans to add more barbecue chicken and grilled seafood items to the menu, and my hope is that on my next visit the menu will reflect even more available — rather than unavailable — items.
If You Go
Sari Sari, 2339 Frankfort Ave., 894-0585. Lunch Wednesday through Friday, 11:30 a.m.-2 p.m. Dinner Tuesday through Saturday, 5 p.m.-9 p.m.
