A Foodie’s Love Letter From Management
More than a café and bar, FR MGMT is a collaborative space shaped by memory, food, and community.
Words Mika Reyes
Photos courtesy of FR MGMT
January 10, 2026
In a sunlit corner of Legazpi Village there’s a newcomer that’s standing out and reaching inward. FR MGMT doesn’t scream to be noticed, yet somehow, it’s impossible to ignore. It's not quite a café, not quite a coworking space, and definitely not just another bar. It’s a refuge, an incubator, and—most of all—a love letter written to the modern Filipino creative.
“It really began with this feeling,” says Vien Bote, one of the founders. “Everyone has a bad box—a structure they’re trying to shake off. FR MGMT became a space to unwind from that nine-to-five life, but also to rediscover joy.” What started as home-based work-and-wine evenings with collaborators quietly evolved into a living concept: workspaces that blurred into cocktail hours, breakout rooms hosting supper clubs, and hallway shelves transformed into showcases for zines and local crafts.
Though nestled among big names like Curator, Bar 104, and Grasshopper—venues that count among Asia’s best—FR MGMT leans into collaboration rather than competition. “Our head bartender, Faye, used to be at Curator, and now bartenders from Grasshopper and other bars drop by to say hi. We don’t want to compete—we want to learn from each other. Build a neighborhood together.”
The culinary language of FR MGMT is intimate and layered with memory. “It started as tapas—then evolved,” the founder reflects, describing how the menu bloomed into a culinary collage of Filipino flavors with Spanish technique. Credit goes to Chef Jim Bell Calungcaguin—known affectionately as Chef JB—who trained the in-house chefs (Arvin, Eric, and Junior) with both precision and heart. “My mom’s Ilongga. I wanted something that tasted like how my Lola used to cook—like home.”
Nostalgia threads through their beverage menu, too. “Sometimes, I just crave buko pandan or sago’t-gulaman and don’t know where to go,” Vien admits. So they made it themselves—only elevated. Their version of sago’t-gulaman stirred debate. “It didn’t taste like the classic one—and that was the point,” she laughs. “We welcome feedback. We adjust. We want everything to reflect the community’s voice.”
This openness is everywhere—from the curated cabinets displaying artists’ “anik-anik” to the supper club ideas bubbling behind closed doors. Guests might stumble into a matcha tasting or even a dinner featuring baboy ramo, that sometimes-controversial black pig raised in the wild. “People ask if it’s illegal,” Vien jokes. “But really—it’s just new to them. And we love that moment of surprise, when they try it and go, ‘Oh. That’s actually good.’”
Even the drinks tell stories. Her brother, Jevb, also co-owner and lead mixologist, along with Faye Fernando, has a passion for forgotten cocktails. From Pisco Sours to Corpse Revivers—liquid whispers of the pre-Prohibition era—the bar is a revival in every glass. “The Corpse Reviver was created to cure hangovers,” Vien quips. “If someone orders it, I instantly know what kind of night they had.”
Yet perhaps the most beguiling thing about FR MGMT is its honesty. Helmets, coffee experiments, and bags rest in plain sight near the bathroom—artifacts of a lived-in space. “We didn’t hide them. This is our home, too. If guests want to work here all day, then call their barkada at night for drinks—that’s the dream.”
It may be new on the map, but FR MGMT already feels like a place you’ve known for years. A cozy hybrid of memory and movement, creativity and comfort—a space where deadlines are softened by ambient playlists, and where every corner offers the chance to feel a little more human.
