In 2004, finding Filipino food in Japan meant knowing where to look — and who to ask. It is tucked away in the backrooms of small omise (shops) that doubled as grocery stores and community hubs, largely invisible to the Japanese public. They were for “us” — the homesick, the hardworking, and those who knew which unmarked door led to a steaming bowl of sinigang (Filipino sour soup).

Now, eight years into my second chapter living in Tokyo, the landscape has begun to shift, albeit gradually. As we celebrate Filipino Food Month, I see a community slowly moving from the far periphery toward a more visible presence. This shift is most visible in our dining spaces — from the survivalist comfort of the old-school omise to the regional pride of today, and the more intentional bistro concepts now emerging.

A comparative perspective

My journey as a lawyer has taken me between many islands — the Philippines, Japan, and the United Kingdom. During my time in London, I saw a vibrant Filipino food scene that had successfully crossed over. From the polished hospitality of Kasa and Kin near Oxford Street to the unapologetic “lutong bahay” (home-cooked) spirit of Coco’s Lounge in North West London, our food has become a celebrated part of that city’s fabric. 

Perhaps most symbolic is Jollibee’s permanent home in the iconic Leicester Square. Whenever the weight of living abroad alone felt too heavy or the London fog grew too cold for me, I would find my way to that red-and-yellow storefront.

It wasn’t just the familiar taste of Chickenjoy or Jolly Spaghetti. It was the atmosphere. Stepping inside felt like being back in the Philippines even for a moment. But what struck me just as much was the crowd: locals from all backgrounds, lining up alongside us. Watching them enjoy our food filled me with pride and made it clear to me that our culture is not confined to us but something that others can step into, and feel at home in as well. (READ: [BizSights] Making a case for Pinoy fried chicken)

Coming back to Japan, the contrast is sharp. Despite our community’s size, our cuisine remains significantly underrepresented compared to the ubiquitous Thai or Vietnamese restaurants found on every corner. 

From survival to storytelling

The old-school omise — the neighborhood carinderia (small food stall) — was built on practicality. These spots were defined by a sprawling buffet and a karaoke machine. As Johndy Zinampan, the owner of Bananas Bistro and a close friend, puts it: “The focus was straightforward: affordable, filling food served quickly. It was informal, functional, sometimes chaotic, but always grounded in community.” In those settings, food and song were a combined defense against the loneliness of life abroad.

Before the modern wave, institutional pillars like New Nanay’s in Roppongi, New Nene’s Kitchen in Akabane, and Ana’s Restaurant in Saitama, held the community together. These “Nanays” (mothers) turned home-cooking into a professional legacy, creating spaces where families could gather for a genuine taste of home.

CELEBRATIONS. At New Nene’s Kitchen, one of our original village squares in Tokyo, every occasion finds its place – birthdays, weddings, Christmas, or simply being together. For many Filipinos in Tokyo, this is where life is celebrated. Photos courtesy of New Nene’s Kitchen.

Regional pride on the move

GRILLING. Barrio Grill brings Bacolod’s flavors to Japan. Photo courtesy of Pau Apsay Aquino, owner of Barrio Grill

Our culinary narrative is also becoming more specialized. We are moving beyond generic adobo toward distinct regional expressions. Barrio Grill in Chiba is a prime example, bringing the smoky flavors of Bacolod to Japan. Pau Apsay Aquino’s kansi and inasal reflect a level of craft that has earned Barrio Grill the “Best Booth” title at the Philippine Festival for two consecutive years.

ANGEL. Juri Kajiwara poses for a photo in front of Angel’s Kitchen, a Filipino mobile kitchen that brings Filipino taste across Fukuoka. Photo courtesy of Juri Kajiwara

This reach extends beyond the Kanto Plain. In Fukuoka, where I used to live, Juri Kajiwara has pioneered Angel’s Kitchen, a mobile Filipino restaurant that brings the taste of the islands to the streets of Kyushu. Her food truck reflects the modern mobility of our diaspora — adaptive, visible, and introducing the Japanese public to flavors they may not have otherwise encountered.

Bananas: A new entry point 

If the omise was about survival, the modern Filipino bistro is about intentionality. At Bananas Bistro in Shinjuku, the goal is to bridge the cultural gap. “The idea,” Johndy explains, “was to create a space where Filipino food could stand on equal footing with other respected cuisines in Tokyo — presented with the same care you’d expect from a good French bistro.”

PARTY. At Bananas Bistro, the new village square, UP alumni in Japan come together for their New Year’s party, where community feels familiar even far from home.

The name itself is a bridge. Philippine bananas are our top export to Japan and a familiar staple here. “It’s a quiet entry point,” he says, “a disarming way to invite people in.” At Bananas, the “soul” remains authentic, but the presentation is designed to be legible to a Japanese guest who might be trying sisig for the first time. It is a transition from the loud warmth of the karaoke bar to a more curated dining experience.

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NEW VILLAGE SQUARE. Bananas Bistro signals a new face of Filipino dining in Japan grounded in classic flavors, but presented with a renewed sense of purpose. With its welcoming facade (right), Bananas Bistro stands as part of a new, more visible Filipino presence in Japan. It reimagines the new village square where Filipino dining in Japan moves from hidden spaces to intentional, welcoming interiors. Photos courtesy of Johndy Zinampan, owner of Bananas Bistro

Between islands, even dessert becomes a bridge. Halo-halo and ube, shared at Bananas Bistro. Photo courtesy of Johndy Zinampan, owner of Bananas Bistro
Lumpia, tahong, kare-kare, sisig—classic Filipino flavors, thoughtfully served at Bananas Bistro. Photo courtesy of Johndy Zinampan, owner of Bananas Bistro

The aspirational horizon 

While we celebrate these strides, we are still in the early stages. Filipino food in Japan is far from being a household name, but there is anticipation for what’s next. My time in other global hubs has shown me what is possible. It remains my fervent wish and mission to see more Filipino restaurants, Jollibee (of course) and other beloved Filipino brands establish a permanent home here. Seeing them and the “Red Bee” in the heart of Tokyo would be a powerful signal that our culture has finally found its place in the Japanese daily routine.

A legacy on a plate

This evolution is a story of resilience. As Johndy puts it: “Filipino culture is built on layers — the sweetness next to acidity, the comfort next to intensity. It all comes from a long history of exchange and adaptation.”

As we celebrate Filipino Food Month, I look at the doors of these establishments — from the community hubs in Saitama to the regional mastery of Barrio Grill and the modern ambition of Bananas Bistro. They represent a community that is slowly but surely moving toward the center of the conversation.

The spirit of Kain tayo (Let’s eat) remains our greatest export. The Filipino table is getting bigger in Japan, and as we define our own lane, the future feels increasingly hopeful. – Rappler.com

Ricky Aringo Sabornay is a cross-border lawyer who moves between the Philippines and Japan, helping people navigate not just different legal systems, but different ways of thinking. He runs Sabornay Law, a member firm of Uryu & Itoga, where his work sits at the intersection of two legal systems and two cultures that don’t always speak the same language. Connect with him on LinkedIn.

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