Leading to the September 50th anniversary of the iconic The Peninsula Manila, a unique four-hands dinner was held at Old Manila, the hotel's signature fine-dining restaurant.

Learning that The Peninsula is nigh on its 50th year brings a warm feeling to one's heart, especially to this author, whose youth, young adulthood, and even now, have been spent in parts with that legendary space.

My late father, who once had an office for his various businesses in the Blanco Center Apartment Building in Makati—now The Picasso Boutique Serviced Residences—a big chunk of my youth was spent living and growing up in Makati. I remember the Greenbelt of old, that leafy oasis in the heart of the city. There was the Park and Aviary, dining destinations like Via Mare, Wendy's, and Dulcinea, and, of course, the Quad Arcades.

Of course, my late father and dearly departed mother, along with my older sister and I, would spend oodles of time in the Peninsula lobby on slow weekends. We would have halo-halo while whiling away the afternoon. I remember wandering around that iconic place while my father would be meeting with different groups for his various projects—the faces at his table changing as the day progressed. I would be there until late at night, and my dad would still have some group sitting with him.

On special occasions, we would eat at Old Manila. Through the years and its few interior incarnations, I had fond memories of the place. Peninsula was part of my youth, and now, working as a journalist, I have become even more exposed to the stories surrounding the grand dame of Makati.

As a young writer, one of its earliest employees and now a public relations and media practitioner, Rosario Ysmael, would tell me all the "chismis" that happened in the iconic hotel—who fought with whom in the lobby, and "Did you know what that person did when he was drunk in the middle of the night, he..." I think I'd better leave the unsavory details for another day.

And now, Old Manila finds itself in another chapter.

As part of The Peninsula Manila's golden anniversary celebrations, executive chef Rémy Carmignani welcomed chef Yohan Da Costa, senior chef de cuisine of Peter at The Peninsula Tokyo, for an exclusive four-hands collaboration. Bringing together two French chefs shaped by different journeys, the dinner reflected a shared philosophy grounded in technique, seasonality, and respect for ingredients.

For Rémy, who joined The Peninsula Manila in 2025, being entrusted with the hotel's milestone year carries more pride than pressure.

"I don't see it as pressure—it's an honor," he said during the event. "The Peninsula Manila isn't just a 5-star hotel; it has a strong energy and history. You can feel how proud and passionate the staff are to be part of it. My way to show respect to this grande dame is to give her my full dedication—whatever it takes."

He hopes to reestablish Old Manila as the hotel's flagship for refined French-inspired cuisine, supported by premium local ingredients, theatrical tableside service, and elevated ingredient storytelling. The Michelin Guide's Selected distinction only strengthens that resolve.

Rémy has also come to appreciate the Filipino palate, he tells us. "Filipinos remind me a lot of the French—we wake up thinking about breakfast, and shortly after, we're already thinking about the next meal," he said. "There's a real passion for food here, and people appreciate flavor, balance, and warmth."

Across the table was Yohan, born in Burgundy, whose love affair with cooking began with a meal at a Michelin-starred restaurant when he was 11 years old. Over a career spanning Michelin-starred kitchens and leadership roles in Japan and Australia, he learned that "consistency, humility, and teamwork matter just as much as talent." Those lessons, he said, "shaped how I work and how I lead today."

Created exclusively for Manila, the menu we tried moved in dialogue between the two chefs, with courses alternating between Old Manila and Peter.

The evening opened with delicate canapés of tuna tartlet and potato with wagyu before Yohan presented his L'Œuf de Poule, a poached chicken egg with seasonal truffle, mushroom duxelles, Champagne sauce and kinome. The dish was elegant, allowing the richness of the egg and earthiness of the mushrooms to speak for themselves.

Old Manila responded with a refined bouillabaisse featuring Atlantic turbot, Hokkaido scallop and octopus accompanied by saffron potatoes, fennel, rouille, and toasted sourdough. It was perhaps my favorite dish of the afternoon, deeply comforting without sacrificing finesse.

Yohan followed with Le Bœuf Japonais, roasted Japanese beef paired with white asparagus, carrot mousseline, yuzu-kosho, and beef jus. The subtle Japanese influences present in Peter's cooking revealed themselves through touches like yuzu-kosho, bringing balance and precision to classical French foundations.

Dessert belonged to Old Manila. Le Pamplemousse, with grapefruit and wasabi sorbet, homemade granola, raspberry compote, and lychee espuma, ended the meal on a refreshing note.

Listening to both chefs speak, one gets the sense that neither is interested in luxury for luxury's sake. Having spent 10 years in Singapore, where local produce is limited, Rémy said he appreciates being in a country where he can work closely with farmers and producers. Supporting communities and reducing food's carbon footprint are important to him, and he believes creativity, seasonality, and care should guide fine dining today.

"Luxury isn't about distance—it's about intention and care," he said.

Yohan, meanwhile, subscribes to a simpler philosophy.

"Stay curious and never think you know everything," he said. "The moment you stop learning is the moment you stop growing."

That is why the meal felt so fitting.

The Peninsula Manila has always been about occasions. It has been where birthdays were celebrated, friendships forged, business deals struck, and memories made. For nearly five decades, generations of Filipinos have passed through its doors and made it part of their own stories.

It certainly became part of mine.

And sitting once again inside Old Manila, now as a journalist rather than the child waiting for his father to finish another meeting in the lobby, I was reminded that some places become iconic not because they remain frozen in time, but because they continue creating memories for each new generation fortunate enough to walk through their doors.