Two Countries, One Diner, Zero Compromises
Bayan Ko Diner is where a Filipino chef and his Cuban American wife cook both their families at once, in the old Glenn's Diner space in Ravenswood. The rice alone earns the trip.
The name means "my country" in Tagalog, which is the right amount of loaded for a place cooking two countries at the same time. Bayan Ko Diner is chef Lawrence Letrero and his wife and business partner Raquel Quadreny putting their families on one menu. He's Filipino American, she's Cuban American, and the food isn't a concept someone workshopped. It's two real heritages sharing a kitchen, which is a different thing entirely and tastes like it.
It's the casual, all-day sibling to the original Bayan Ko a few doors east, which has since become a reservations-only tasting menu. The Diner kept many of the original's à-la-carte favorites, added breakfast and brunch, and moved into the old Glenn's Diner space. The room is a big, open, playful thing with a jungle streak that reads as either Filipino or Cuban and doesn't bother clarifying which. Rattan chairs at wood tables, palm wallpaper, photographs of people from both countries watching you eat. It's warm without trying too hard.
Let's get the most important thing out of the way. They nail the rice. The garlic rice under the silog plates is light, fluffy, and threaded with just enough garlic to be both subtle and pronounced at once, if that makes any sense. It does when you eat it. That kind of control over something most kitchens treat as a default is the tell that everything else is going to be handled.
And it is. The lumpia and empanadas are two sides of the same coin, crispy fried culturally specific finger food from either side of the family, and I love that they both live on one menu. Order things by the half or full, but on the lumpia, just get the full order if there's more than one of you. The lechon kawali is worth it if you like crispy pork belly, tender under the crackle. The adobo wings, the sisig hash that splits the difference between silog and American diner, the Cuban breakfast burrito built on ropa vieja: this is a menu of bangers, and it's a lot of food. You will leave full. There has been very little to be upset about across visits.
Brunch is its own argument for going. Start with a silog, which is exactly as good as the rice underneath it promises. But here's the thing about eating at a good table with good people: sometimes you order well and still lose. Last time, my dish was strong and I still lost the table to the shrimp and grits, which were so good I've made my peace with it. And this is your permission to get the table pancake. Grab a stack of the ube pancakes for everyone to share, light and fluffy and sweet without tipping over into too sweet, currently my favorite pancakes in the city. Our server understood the assignment and sent them out last, as dessert, which is exactly where they belong.
The menu changes, so don't hold the online version against them when you get there. And get your punch card stamped. Go back enough and the meal's free, which is reason enough to make this a regular thing, though the food already handled that argument on its own.
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