How Chef Rhea Rizzo’s Mrs. Saldo’s Restaurant Is Built by Memory

In her kitchen, travel and nostalgia are served on warm plates that feel like home.

The tail end of July brings rainy weather to the Philippines. But at Mrs. Saldo’s, the abundance of Alocasia leaves, Monsteras, climbing vines, and various ferns contrasts with the gray sky, adding vibrance to an otherwise gloomy scenery. And even more vibrant still is its chef-owner and founder, Rhea Rizzo.

Tucked away in Silang, Cavite, Mrs. Saldo’s is a private dining destination and garden restaurant, serving international and Asian-inspired tasting menus made with classical French techniques. Inspired by a bottle of Saldo Zinfandel wine (with “saldo” meaning “balance” in Spanish), the property is home to three dining concepts: Mrs. Saldo’s, Little Miss Saldo’s, and The Necessary.

When you walk into the property, it’s apparent that Rizzo is a woman of the world. The carved Indian wooden gate welcomes you first; then its torii-inspired walkways lead you to a Moroccan fountain courtyard, the garden, and the three dining concepts. “To have that sense of awe and wonder, like the first time you step into a country, I try to encapsulate that moment,” she says.

If you find yourself at Mrs. Saldo’s, her tasting menu concept, blue encaustic floor tiles, orange walls, solihiya screens, curated artworks, and vintage furniture fill your vision. Little Miss Saldo’s, on the other hand, takes on a countryside aesthetic inspired by Napa Valley and Hudson Valley, with its large windows overlooking the gardens. And downstairs at Little Miss Saldo’s is The Necessary, which takes its cues from French colonial New Orleans.

Each one is filled with references to her travels and experiences, and each plate reflects that. At Mrs. Saldo’s, her most recent tasting menu is inspired by her memories of Bangkok, where she worked under chef Gaggan Anand at his then two-Michelin-Star restaurant, Gaggan. “Even if it was years ago, there were some memories that I can still remember to this day, like the street food after service. I would save up to eat at restaurants on my [days off],” she fondly recalls.

On the plate, these memories came out through dishes such as Miang Kham and Salmon Nahm Jim, as well as Angus beef cheek with chocolate-massaman curry sauce and crispy duck with pineapple red curry sauce.

Although she blends different techniques, flavors, and cuisines, she refuses to call her concepts a “fusion,” but rather a culmination of all her learnings throughout her career. “I feel like it’s such a disservice if I don’t use all of those experiences,” she says. “I’m a huge learner, and confidence comes from learning first and foremost, right? I try to understand as much as I can about the dish, the roots of the recipes, and the people behind them. And then, I try to put my own spin on that.”

This earnest desire to learn and challenge herself comes from what she calls “a second chance.” Shortly after graduating from De La Salle-College of St. Benilde, the chef stepped away from the kitchen when her daughter was diagnosed with autism. Culinary dreams paused; she turned her attention toward home, and it would be 10 years later before she pursued them again in Anand’s kitchen. “I don’t waste second chances; I embrace it and see what happens.”

When she returned to the Philippines, she began planning her own restaurant, but she would do so under the challenging circumstances of the COVID-19 pandemic. “And I’m like, ‘Am I on the right path?’ But you just have to be persistent,” she says. Her path wasn’t as linear as her peers’, but looking back, she wouldn’t have it any other way. “If I had started when I was 25, I wouldn’t have the maturity of how I operate as a leader.”

As we chatted inside the greenhouse dining room, she confessed that she’s a fan of Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist, for the message that it carries. “You would always go back to what your heart will tell you, or has been telling you, and to dismiss that would be the saddest in your journey and your own growth,” she says.

While reflecting on her journey, she shares the one thing she wants to be remembered for. “That I care so much,” she says, getting teary-eyed. “Even if I don’t reach whatever goal, whatever end-of-the-tunnel journey I set myself out to achieve. Even if that does not materialize, in the end, I know I’ve given it everything I’ve got.” As she says this, she’s thinking of her son who’s currently pursuing his own path. “Just the fact that he’s trying, the value is already there, and I don’t want it to be diminished.”

The sun sets, and the gray sky turns into a dark shade of blue. The day has been long, and yet Rizzo still insists on serving us dinner, checking that every plate is warm and served to her satisfaction. Mrs. Saldo’s may be two hours away from Metro Manila, but sitting at her table, she makes it feel like home.