The spotlight wasn’t on a dish or a wine pairing. It was on a handshake. Chef Chele González, the Spanish culinary star behind Cantabria, stood beside his new Chef de Cuisine, Álvaro Romero-abreu Raya, to welcome guests to an evening of food and transition. This wasn’t just a tasting. It was an introduction.

Chef Álvaro’s energy was quiet but infectious, his grin disarming. “We have a lot of experiences to offer in different ways,” he said. “There’s something for everyone. We’ve created a menu that can make people feel like they’re staying in Spain without staying in Spain. I feel that, too. I feel like I’m at home.”

Raised in the southern port city of Cádiz, Chef Álvaro first studied law before following the call of his childhood kitchen. He learned cooking not from textbooks, but beside his grandmother and parents, spending warm afternoons in the company of simmering pots and laughter.

The career pivot led him to some of Spain’s finest kitchens, including the revered Mugaritz in northern Spain, ranked among the best in the world and decorated with two Michelin stars. There, he worked on the Research and Development team, sharpening his craft at the frontier of Spanish culinary innovation.

Now in Manila, he brings that fusion of tradition and experimentation to Cantabria, working closely with Chef Chele to evolve the restaurant’s offerings into what he calls “progressive Spanish cuisine.”

The night’s tasting began with four aperitivos that whispered of home but spoke in new tongues.

The Ostra Manzana y Lima-Limón, an oyster cradled in sour apple foam and crowned with lemon-lime sorbet, opened the palate with a bracing sea-kissed sweetness. Beside it, the Tosta de Ensaladilla de Gambas, a humble-looking toast topped with mashed potato and carrot salad studded with tiger prawns, struck a creamy, comforting note.

The Tartaleta de Ikura y Wagyu brought richness in small form. Wagyu tartar layered in a crisp tart shell with glistening ikura and an earthy truffle egg yolk that melted into the beef. Then, a play on the Spanish tortilla: the Tortilla Crujiente, a panipuri-like bite filled with caramelized onions and egg foam. It popped, crisp and warm, evoking both India and Iberia.

The entrantes, or starters, arrived with bright, assertive flavors. The Tartar de Salmón con Vieiras y Gazpachuelo de Jalapeños y Coco balanced raw salmon with torched scallops, dressed in a sour jalapeño emulsion mellowed by coconut cream. Each forkful moved across textures, hot and cold, smooth and crackling.

This was followed by a bold dish of Guiso de Maganos en su Tinta con Patatas en Texturas, a squid ink stew that was both deeply traditional and technically forward. The ink-stained broth clung to bites of tender baby squid, while the various forms of potato — crisps, purée, cubes — offered a playful but grounded contrast.

From there, the main courses emerged with gravitas. The Rodaballo a la Brasa, a grilled turbot resting on a bed of herbaceous green salad, sang of northern Spain’s coastlines. The fish was firm but forgiving, its edges kissed by flame.

Then came the Jarrete de Ternera, slow-cooked veal shank glazed in demi-glace and served with mashed potatoes and vegetables. It was a dish to silence a room. Forks slid through the meat like soft fruit.

Dessert was no afterthought. The Sobao Pasiego, a signature cake from Cantabria, arrived warm, golden and fragrant. Paired with a tangy berries coulis and cheese ice cream, it was rustic and elegant all at once.

The final plate, Chocolate, Calabaza y Pistacho, married hot chocolate soufflé with pumpkin-vanilla toffee and pistachio ice cream. Sweet, spiced, nutty — it was a storybook ending.

As glasses clinked and conversation wandered to the Manila night beyond the glass, it was clear that Cantabria’s soul had not changed. But something had shifted, lightly and confidently.

Chef Álvaro, ever smiling, floated between tables. “I feel like I’m at home,” he repeated. It was the kind of phrase that, by night’s end, belonged to all who were there.

Cantabria continues to offer its evolving seasonal set menu, with the new dishes now part of its regular rotation. Guests can expect boldness and familiarity in equal measure, from the smoky, rich stews of the north to the bright jabs of Nikkei-influenced gazpacho.

As Chef Chele and Chef Álvaro stood together by the kitchen’s edge, it was not a passing of the torch. It was something else. A conversation, maybe. Or a shared belief that good food, like all good stories, must be told again and again, each time with just a little more truth.