Just today, a friend in the know, who this time obviously does not know everything, slid me a DM on Instagram: “Where in the world is this secret asador?”
Ssssssh, but here I am at Goxo, a 12-seater bar-asador in hiding so hush-hush that even whispering its name feels like breaking a sacred vow. Tucked away on a foodie street in Salcedo Village, it’s a place you won’t find by accident. No neon signs, no blaring announcements, no obvious markers. You have to know someone who knows someone, and then, maybe—just maybe—you’ll be led to its doors.
Finger on my lips, let me tell you about the tasting menu Goxo chef Albert Mendoza and his team put together as a preview. Just between us, it was a symphony of flavors, an ode to asador-style Basque cooking with unexpected, very Filipino-but-not-quite twists.
I’ll deny it if you say I spilled the tea, but we started with duck marinated à la inasal, given a luscious turn with coconut cream and a crisp potato pavé. Then came foie gras perched atop milk bread, kissed with quince jelly and drizzled with truffle honey—each bite a contrast of silky, crisp, sweet, and savory. And then—yum! yum! yum!—the talakitok jamón, paired with compressed melon, stracciatella, and almonds, which danced in perfect harmony between briny and creamy, nutty and fresh.
Keep it on the down-low, but it only got better. Mollejas, delicate sweetbreads, found a nutty and tangy counterpoint in adlai, pickled onion, Spanish guindillas, and burnt calamansi. The Iberico pluma, skewered and charred to perfection, was given an irresistible contrast with pineapple chutney on the side.
Stay mum on it, but you can tell your most trusted friends that the mains were nothing short of extraordinary. Gambones with scallop, potato, pumpkin, and bravas oil brought the sea to the plate with rich, layered flavors. I, however, am allergic to crustaceans, so instead, I was served a lovely, perfectly cooked pompano—simple, delicate, and drool-worthy. Then came the pièce de résistance: duck leg, its skin shatteringly crisp, served with asparagus, zucchini, and portobello, an indulgence of textures and deep, caramelized flavors.
Hush hush, the meal wrapped up with a bang—a chocolate dessert rich enough to make my eyes roll back. I liked it with red wine, but for if you prefer something bolder, whisky with a single cube of ice should do.
Button your lip, but let me give you one last secret: Goxo, named after the Basque word for “delicious,” is owned by the same brilliant minds behind Txoko Asador and Bar Pintxos—Carlo Calma Lorenzana and Tinchu Gonzalez. But no, you can’t Waze it. You won’t find a giant sign screaming its name. You’ll need a little mystery, a little intrigue, and a little connection to make your way inside.
Keep a lid on it, but if you’re in the know, you can book through Bar Pintxos. The staff will take you there—no, probably not in a blindfold, but, uhm, kinky! Because what’s in store for you in this secret space is good food served with a sultry glow spilling across a dimly-lit room, whose deep red walls pulse like slow-burning ember. Nothing is sexier!