Book review: On 'Larry Can't Cook' and the man behind it

For some reason, it felt like I almost knew him. Almost. After all, I read what he read, and ate what he ate. Larry Cruz, after all, was the publisher of my '80s favorite glossy magazine, Metro (which was more like New Yorker then than Vogue), and the owner of the iconic Malate restaurant, Café Adriatico, THE date place back then.

So when I came across the book “Larry Can't Cook,” a biography of Larry Cruz published by LJC Management Consultancy, Inc. and Anvil Publishing, Inc. (2012), it was like reading about someone who was more than vaguely familiar.

Those of us who have celebrated many a family dinner at Abé, or had lunch at Lorenzo's Way, or had a merienda of chocolate éh and pan de sal with kesong puti at Café Adriatico, or danced the night away at Café Havana, will appreciate reading how Larry started it all.

Born in Tondo, Manila three months before World War II started in 1941, to journalist and diplomat E. Aguilar “Abe” Cruz and writer-turned-homemaker Fely, Larry grew up spending summers in Magalang, Pampanga. And as many Filipinos know, Kapampangans know how to cook well. It was here in Abe's hometown where Larry learned not just how to ride carabaos and hunt birds and wild boar, but also to appreciate the province's exotic delicacy kamaru—crickets found in rice fields.

Abe guided his son further into appreciating good food by taking the young Larry on frequent food trips to Chinatown, after putting to bed the afternoon paper he was editing at the time. Larry recalled those days when they would go to a panciteria first, then to a store on Ongpin Street for black gulaman, before capping the hefty lunch with coffee at—where else—a place called Strong Coffee.

But Abe didn't stop with food tasting. The father also showed the son how to appreciate art and antiques, and how to write as well, so it was no wonder Larry ended up as a journalist later on.

Larry became the news editor of DZMT (Manila Times Radio) and Channel 5 (Manila Times TV), and news director of DZHP (Radio Mindanao Network), before jumping into the print medium as associate editor of Weekly Graphic and bureau chief of The Asia Magazine.

Even though he was not able to finish college (he married early and became a father at 17), Larry seemed destined to become an achiever in life. He served as assistant press secretary from 1969 to 1973, then director of the Bureau of National and Foreign Information (BNFI) at the Philippine News Agency from 1973 to 1980.

While he was still working at BNFI, Larry ventured into antiques, opening ABC Galleries at Harrison Plaza, then Koleksyon, an antique shop, in 1978.

Spurred by a passion for good food, Larry then became a restaurateur in 1980, even if he confessed to not knowing how to cook. Café Adriatico rose on a corner lot at Remedios Circle in Malate, giving Manilans a taste of the bistro life.

It came at the right time. Malate was a happening place back in the '80s, with bohemians, artists, and yuppies checking out the area night after night, hopping from the Coco Banana dance club to Penguin Café and other establishments.

It was at Café Adriatico where chocolate éh became a hit, where binukadkad na plapla first saw light, where the now ubiquitous buco and pandan gelatin dessert (concocted by chef Claude Tayag) presented itself.

And the rest, shall we say, is history, with Larry opening one restaurant after another, such as Solana, Bistro Burgos, Bistro Lorenzo, Bistro Remedios, Ang Hang, Abé (named after his father), and Fely J (named after his mother).

In essays written by people who knew him most—like his Metro editors Thelma Sioson San Juan, Floy Quintos, Alya Honasan, and Rafael A.S.G. Ongpin—Larry is introduced to us as a person who loves life, good food, fine art. He is profiled as a strict but inspiring employer, a doting family man, a gourmand who would travel near and far for good food.

He was also a busy man, and in fact, two months before he died in 2008, he was discussing this book project with Sioson San Juan, who directed the editorial team.

Larry told her he didn't want his biography to be a “vanity project.” Instead he wanted “readers to get something out of it.”

For those who love cooking, the recipes of timeless dishes served at Larry's restaurants included in “Larry Can't Cook” are indeed priceless. For those who want to open their own restaurants and cafés, the account of putting up a restaurant from scratch many times over would be a valuable business lesson. For those who love history, the retelling of how life was back then for someone like Larry would be informative.

But for us who kinda knew him—almost—it would be like walking with him on his travels, joining him on his food trips -- in other words, savoring the good life.

Indeed we got something out of it, and we're just grateful. – YA, GMA News
 

Photo by Roehl Niño Bautista