Amid the bustling chaos of Manila’s EDSA MRT and LRT interchange, a new culinary trend is quietly taking root. Amidst vendors hawking toys and trinkets, a modest stall offers chicken biryani in hard plastic tubs for just P100 (~US$2). By noon, the stock is gone, a testament to the dish’s growing popularity among Filipino commuters. This South Asian and Middle Eastern staple, known for its fragrant basmati rice and aromatic spices, is carving out a space in the Filipino palate, from street-side stalls to upscale restaurants.
Biryani, a dish with origins debated between South Asia and the Persian-influenced Middle East, is traditionally made with chicken or lamb layered over long-grain rice cooked in ghee (clarified butter), infused with spices like cloves, cardamom, and cinnamon. Garnished with fresh coriander, mint, and lemon rind, it offers a complex flavour profile that seems to resonate with Filipinos. “The spiciness and flavouring of biryani clicks well with Filipino tastebuds,” says a vendor at the EDSA interchange, who runs the stall with her Indian husband, selling both online and offline.
This isn’t an isolated phenomenon. Across Metro Manila, from crowded food courts in Cubao to narrow alleyways in Marikina, biryani is popping up on menus. At a tapsilogan (a roadside eatery) in a low-income neighbourhood, a cook who spent 15 years in Dubai offers solo meals starting at P150 (~US$3), alongside sharing platters reaching P1,200 (~US$20). “It tastes similar to what OFWs know and love, but at a fraction of the price of high-end restaurants,” she explains, highlighting how her trays sell out daily. 
A Taste of Home, Brought Back by OFWs
The rise of biryani in the Philippines appears closely tied to the country’s vast diaspora of overseas Filipino workers (OFWs), many of whom have worked in the Middle East and South Asia. Returning home, they bring not just remittances but also culinary influences, introducing family and friends to dishes like biryani. This cultural exchange is evident in the stories of vendors and cooks who learned recipes abroad and adapted them for local markets.
At the EDSA stall, the vendor credits OFW relatives for exposing Filipinos to the dish, while in Marikina, the tapsilogan owner draws on her Dubai experience to recreate familiar flavours. This trend mirrors the Philippines’ long history of culinary adaptation, from Chinese-inspired noodle dishes to Iberian stews and American fast food, all indigenised over time. Biryani seems to be following a similar path, blending into the Filipino foodscape while retaining its core identity.
From Street Food to Fine Dining
While biryani is a hit among low-income commuters seeking quick, filling meals, it’s also gaining traction in more upscale settings. In Marikina Heights, The Clay Oven, opened in mid-2024 by culinary arts alumna Liza Fielder, serves biryani alongside Arab dishes. Fielder, who honed her skills at Dubai’s Burj Al Arab, prepares her biryani with meticulous care—marinating meat in rosewater brine overnight and importing spices like garam masala and Kashmiri chili. “I toned down the spice level for Filipinos, but everything else is as is,” she says, recommending pairings like chai latte and nutty baklava.
Similarly, Maroush Maher, with branches in Antipolo and Pasig, emerged during the COVID-19 pandemic when its founder, a former OFW, turned to online orders before establishing a physical restaurant. Initially focused on shawarma, the menu expanded to include Arabic-style biryani, which prioritises aromatic over fiery flavours. “Filipinos often think biryani should be spicy, but there are many styles,” notes the Pasig branch manager, emphasising the challenge of balancing authenticity with local expectations.
These establishments cater to a middle- and upper-middle-class clientele eager to explore global cuisines, contrasting with the hurried eateries serving commuters. Yet, across social strata, there’s a shared commitment to authenticity—whether through imported basmati rice or roasted herbs—despite slim profit margins. “Our recipe is authentic, even if profits aren’t much,” the EDSA vendor admits.
A Culinary Bridge Across Cultures
The biryani boom reflects more than just a food trend; it’s a story of migration, adaptation, and cultural exchange. Filipino cooks and entrepreneurs are navigating the delicate balance between preserving traditional flavours and catering to local tastes, sparking debates over “authenticity” that are familiar in a country with such a hybrid culinary heritage. Whether sold on a monobloc table or in a trendy restaurant, biryani is becoming a bridge between South Asian and Middle Eastern roots and Filipino innovation.
As Manila’s streets remain far from walkable, with traffic often outpacing pedestrians, biryani offers a small comfort—a taste of distant lands made accessible at home. From P100 tubs to lavish platters, this dish is proving it’s not just a passing fad but a flavourful addition to the Filipino diet, one likely here to stay.
