Connect
To Top

Hidden Gems: Meet Belle Alolong of The Narra Tree

Today we’d like to introduce you to Belle Alolong.

Hi Belle, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
Honestly, I didn’t plan to open a restaurant—at least not the way it happened. I saw this space, kind of run down and forgotten, and something in me just knew. I didn’t have big investors or a perfect business plan. What I had was the love for our food, and a strong sense that we needed a place like this—where people could feel at home in their culture, or be welcomed into it.

We started with very little. I mean, I was scrubbing floors, painting walls, and figuring things out as we went. We opened for dinner only, five days a week, slowly building as we earned the trust of the community. Over time, we added lunch, then full-day service. Every phase was hard—but also rewarding.

The goal was never just to sell food. It was to share our story. To make people feel something. And now, looking back, I’m proud of what we’ve built—not just a restaurant, but a space that carries meaning, connection, and culture.

And truthfully, we’re still growing. There’s so much more we want to do—but everything we’ve done so far has come from heart, resilience, and a lot of learning along the way.

Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Definitely not a smooth road.

There were days I questioned everything—when we didn’t have enough staff, when equipment broke down mid-service, when I was doing payroll at midnight and scrubbing floors the next morning. Financially, it was tight. We didn’t have backup funds or a big safety net, so every decision mattered. And emotionally, it was a lot. Running a restaurant is already hard—but building one from scratch, with limited resources and high expectations, is something else.

There were moments I felt burnt out, moments I felt invisible, and moments where I carried the weight of it all quietly. But I think what kept us going was the purpose behind it. This wasn’t just about business—it was about representation, storytelling, and creating a space for something that didn’t exist here before.

So no, not easy at all. But I’ve always believed that the hard roads still lead somewhere worth going—and for me, that’s Narra.

As you know, we’re big fans of The Narra Tree. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about the brand?
The Narra Tree is more than just a restaurant. It’s a story of grit.

“Narra” is the national tree of the Philippines—symbolizing courage and resilience. Maybe that’s why the name felt right from the start. This place was built on both. I studied hospitality, but mostly on the front-of-house side—sales, service, guest experience. I had no formal training in running a kitchen, managing back-of-house operations, or construction. But when the opportunity to open The Narra Tree came, I said yes—not because I knew everything, but because I was willing to figure it out.

I took it on as a challenge. And what got me through wasn’t just determination—it was the people I had beside me. If not for them, I wouldn’t have made it. I’ve come to accept recently that I’m probably the hardest working person I know. And I’ve grown into that. I’ve also accepted that I’m smart enough to get through things. I love building. I’m a leader. And I think what’s really carried us through is the ability to take care of people, to adapt quickly, and to create solutions even when things don’t go as planned.

What sets Narra apart isn’t just the food—it’s the soul. The story. The culture. The feeling of being home. We serve authentic Filipino food, but more than that, we carry a story worth telling—through every plate, every guest interaction, and every team member who shows up and gives their best.

And now, there’s Silk Route—a place that opened with the same soul, just a different lens. A Mediterranean-Asian fusion lounge, built from the ground up by friends with a shared vision. We didn’t just create a menu—we built couches, curated music, painted walls, and created an experience. It’s not just about good food—it’s about storytelling, about craftsmanship, and about the magic that happens when people come together to create something that didn’t exist before.

Both Narra and Silk were born from nothing but heart, resilience, and the willingness to try. And I think that’s what I’m most proud of—that we made something real. Something people feel.

How do you think about happiness?
What makes me happy?
That’s a harder question than it sounds. I think for a long time, I tied happiness to achieving things—to making things work, building something from nothing, proving I could do it. And to some extent, that still brings me joy. I love creating. I love the process of making something meaningful. I love seeing people experience what I’ve built—especially when it connects them to something bigger.

But lately, I think happiness also comes in quieter forms. A good meal. A day without pressure. Conversations with people who see me. Being around people I care about, even if we’re not doing anything productive. Peace of mind. Not having to explain myself.

So maybe happiness, for me, is both. The fire and the stillness. Being in motion toward something that matters—but also knowing when to pause and feel proud of where I am.

Contact Info:

Suggest a Story: VoyageSavannah is built on recommendations from the community; it’s how we uncover hidden gems, so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

More in Local Stories