Goo Grindz

Gung Hee Fat Choy - Part III: The 2nd Day Feast

2010-02-23T10:44:00.000-10:00

Because my mom's family was Buddhist, Chinese New Year's day was always a strictly vegetarian day, when all we ate was jai.   However, that doesn't mean that we didn't have big feasts for Chinese New Year. Quite the contrary, we would have multiple big dinners in fact.   Whenever we go out to Night in Chinatown to see the lion dances and the big festivities, we would usually have a nice "End of the Year" dinner at one of the restaurants there.   After I got married, we would always have a Chinese New Year dinner (or dim sum), with my wife's family.   But the biggest feast for Chinese New Year always comes for my family on the day after Chinese New Year, on neen cho yee (or the 2nd day of the year).   For my family this is probably the biggest feast of the year, rivaling Thanksgiving, and often surpassing it in the amount of food.

When my Po Po was alive, she used to cook the entire feast by herself, and it would take her several days. Since she's passed on, my aunty has been the one cooking Chinese New Year dinner.   Unlike Thanksgiving and Christmas, where each member of my family contributes one dish, Aunty usually cooks Chinese New Year dinner all by herself. This is largely due to the fact that Chinese New Year is not a State or Federal holiday in Hawaii, so we don't get the day off to cook.   Aunty will take one day of vacation time to spend the day cooking, but it's always a lot of work for her. However, the importance of the holiday, with its need for special foods, usually outweighs her busy schedule. Not having the day off, also means that we usually have to rush over to her house after work that day, both to enjoy the huge feast she's made, and to pay respects to our ancestors.

Whether they're Buddhist, Taoist, or whatever, many Chinese families will have an altar in their homes for their ancestors.   It isn't so much a form or religion (you don't really worship your ancestors), as much as it is a form of rememberance and respect.   To be perfectly honest, it never really meant that much to me until my Po Po passed away.   After she was gone, and we put her picture up on the altar, suddenly the whole altar had new meaning for me. Suddenly, standing before the altar didn't mean paying respect to people I had never known, but it meant communicating with my Po Po again, telling her how my life is going, asking her for help and advise, and of course wishing her Happy New Year.

My Family's Altar at New Year's

On neen cho yee, my family would rush home to stand before the altar before sunset. In the days preceeding, every type of new year goodie, tong goh, gao, jai, narcissus, all kinds of fruits, and everything else would be on the altar.  But on this day, all of the food my aunty would be presented before the ancestors, so they could share in our feast.   Regardless of the number of ancestors, there would always be 6 bowls of rice (5 half full and 1 full), and 6 pairs of chopsticks.   We would ring the bell 3 times, to let them know we're home and to invite them to come home and feast with us (although my sons have taken to ringing the bell many more than 3 times).   We would then light 3 sticks of Chinese incense, put our hands together and bow 3 sets of 3 times, and place the incense on the altar.

After we had all said hi to Po Po, my uncle and I would take the paper money from the altar and go outside to burn it in a pot.   Unlike Western beliefs, Chinese believe that money is still required in the afterlife.   But instead of working and toiling for your cash, you are taken care of by your decendants. So every New Year (as well as funerals, death anniversaries, and Ching Ming), we burn thin paper with gold & silver foil on it (sort of like origami paper), called gum ngun.   In actuality, the paper is supposed to folded to look like gold teals (the nugget of currancy in the very old days), but since we don't have the day off, we've been burning unfolded paper lately (hopefully Po Po won't mind too much).   Living in the modern times, we also have paper money that resembles Western bills to burn, but we usually save that for Ching Ming.   When Uncle and I have finished burning, we would pour 3 small cups of liquor into the pot, followed by 3 small cups of tea, to finish it all off.   After we've finished burning everything, its time to eat!

In the West, and even at most Chinese dinners, there is one type of soup to start off a meal.   But for this meal, Aunty always cooks 4 soups. These soups are actually most important part of the meal.   Each soup has a highly symbolic meaning and we usually only ever get to eat them at Chinese New Year, so they are very special. This is especially so, for the first soup, which also happens to be my favorite one, called fat choi tong.    Fat choi is a type of vegetable, a seaweed, that looks exactly like jet black hair (although slightly thicker than real hair), therefore it is called fat choi (which literally means "hair vegetable").   This is one vegetable that had Andrew Zimmern known about would surely have been showcased on Bizarre Foods, because it is kind of frightening looking to the uninitiated (it really looks like a big clump of hair floating in your broth). But I really love the texture of this vegetable, which I can only describe as kinda similar to cooked alfalfa. It has a very subtle flavor, but somehow it is still not overpowered by the chicken in the soup. You will also find this vegetable in traditional jai, but there it just blends in with all of the other ingredients, whereas in this soup it is showcased as the star.   This vegetable is highly significant for New Year's as it's name, fat choi, is a homonym, which sounds just like the Chinese words for wealth and good fortune (as in Gung Hee Fat Choy).

Fat Choi Tong (Fat Choi Soup)

The second soup was always my favorite when I was little. It is a corn soup or sook mai tong. It isn't too dissimilar to corn chowder or creamed corn, but without any of the cream taste. I think because it is such a mild, sweet, and creamy (in texture but not taste) soup, kids really like it, because it has become my son's favorite as well. This soup also represents wealth, as the corn color is supposed to be similar to gold.

Sook Mai Tong (Corn Soup)

The third soup is the most ordinary of all the 4 soups. It is a bamboo shoot soup, or jook sun tong. Whereas fat choi is eaten almost exclusively at New Year's time, my Po Po would actually cook this soup for me on a semi regular basis. However, it is still signficant to have, because bamboo shoots are a big symbol of longevity in Chinese culture. I don't know how my aunty does it, but the bamboo in this soup is so incredibly plump and juicy, and marries so well with the chicken stock.

Jook Sun Tong (Bamboo Shoot Soup)

The fourth soup is the most well known of these soups, shark fin soup or yuu chee tong. If you've never had shark's fin, it actually has very little taste. It is more of a slippery, long rice type of texture (but firmer). It mainly absorbs the flavor of the soup its in. While this dish has been a significant part of Chinese culture as a symbol of prosperity since the Ming Dynasty, it has been the object of controversy recently by bleeding heart environmentalists who consider it cruel to cut the fins of a shark. Personally, I don't think it's any more cruel than the slaughter of any animal for food. I do however wish that they harvested more of the shark than just the fins, as any animal that gives its life for food deserves to be made full use of. There is also concern over the decline in the shark population as a result of over harvesting. That, on the other hand, is something I can appreciate, and as in all things moderation is the key. My wish would be that they found a way to farm raise sharks (any species really) to satisfy this demand. Over hunting almost wiped out the American bison, but these days you can enjoy a very tasty, farm raised, buffalo burger in many places (if you've never had one, you gotta head down to Kiawe Grill in Old Stadium Mall in Moiliili). Sharks fin soup is a delicacy, as well as huge part of Chinese culture. It deserves to be protected, so it can be enjoyed by future generations.

Yuu Chee Tong (Shark's Fin Soup)

There is actually a 5th soup that is missing from this set, the famed bird nest soup or yim wo tong. Bird nest soup, is actually made from the saliva that cave swifts uses to build their nests. People that harvest these nests have to climb to the top of some very dangerous caves to pry them from the ceiling (it's even more dangerous than opihi picking). It sounds truly bizarre and frightening, but like the sharks fin, it really doesn't have that strong a taste. It's very mild, mainly a crunchy jelly like texture (like cartilidge or certain types of fungus). The really high quality stuff actually just dissolves completely into the broth. I remember my Po Po making it when I was little for big parties when all of our aunties and uncles would come over. This soup, even more famous and significant than the shark's fin soup, is not only supposed to symbolize good health for the new year, but is supposed to have incredible nutritional benefits that will alleviate all kinds of health problems. The problem with it, is that it is ridiculously expensive. Even moreso than the shark's fin. Bird's nests go for about $200 a pound for the cheap end stuff. So, while it is highly significant, we just can't afford to have it every year.

Following the soups, Aunty usually cooks a number of different dishes. In years past, she has slow braised whole chickens in her pressure cooker (something I used to refer to as "bathtub chicken" because of the shape of her pressure cooker). This year she opted for some pork chops. They look basic, but they were cooked just perfectly tender and juicy. She adorned them with carrot medallions (also representative of gold coins for the shape and color).

Pork Chops

Aunty always cooks a lot of a big batch of shrimp, this year they were garlic shrimp. Shrimp always seem necessary for festive Chinese dinners. In fact, in many Chinese families, although they cook a turkey for Thanksgiving, it is the shirmp that is the highlight of the meal. I remember in grad school, I had a Korean friend who just sat there the whole Thanksgiving dinner eating nothing but the shirmp and grunting every so often about how good it was. Many Westerners aren't as fond of shrimp, because they're lazy to peel the shells off, but that's what locks in all the flavor.

Shrimp

For a vegetable course, Aunty usually creates something interesting using all of the leftover ingredients that go into jai. What never ceases to amaze me, is how you can take these same ingredients, put them together in different ways, and have them taste totally different. In this case, it is the sugar snap peas she threw in that just dominated the flavor of the dish. The vegetables were so incredibly sweet, not in a sugary sense, but in that fresh, green, from the garden taste.

Mixed Vegetables

My mom also decided to contribute a dish this year. After visiting Hsu Yun Temple, and sampling their true monk's food, she was inspired to try recreating their dish with her own leftover jai ingredients. Then she went on a tangent throwing in American bacon and some Vietnamese sausage (gio). However, unlike her supreme jai, somehow these ingredients didn't mesh very well. On top of that, one of the bean curds she used had a very funny canned taste, which kind of spoiled the whole dish for me. I would've just preferred some more of her incredibly awesome jai.

Mom's Concoction

This year, Aunty also tried to make something really special. It was a dish of some of the most amazingly plump and juicy black shiitake mushrooms (or doong gu) that I've ever tasted, along with some very tender and sweet abalone. Abalone is also not cheap, though not as bad as the shark's fin or the bird's nest, coming in at around $40 a pound. I don't usually like abalone, because many people do it wrong and it's really tough, or it has a weird canned taste. But these were so remarkably tender and fresh tasting. Abalone is another significant dish, because the Chinese word for abalone, bao yuu, is another homonym, sounding just like the words for "guaranteed abundance", something we definitely need in this economy.

Abalone & Black Mushrooms

To wrap everything up, you definitely need to have a fish. Fish or yuu, like the abalone, are a symbol of abundance and prosperity. It is as important to the Chinese at Chinese New Year, as to the Japanese during regular New Year's. Of course, you have to stick with the classic Chinese steamed preparation with sesame oil & shoyu sauce, garnished with green onion and ginger. Howevever, this time Aunty went with a pair of mullet, which I don't think were quite as tasty as the uhu (parrotfish), she cooked at regular New Year.

Braised Mullet

There is one dish that is very conspicuously missing from all of this. My Po Po used to make the best joong at New Year's time. Good joong is all in the wrapping, and she used to pack it tighter than anyone I've ever seen in my life. She used to make wrapping it look so easy, but my mom and my aunty were never able to wrap it nearly as well as she did. Just like my mom gives jai out to all her friends and family at New Year, my Po Po used to be famous for the joong she gave away at New Year's time. Even if I went to the market to buy some joong to add to the meal, it would never be as good as my Po Po's was. It is something that I miss every year since she's been gone.

Chinese New Year's Dinner 2010

In actuality, like the 12 days of Christmas, Chinese New Year is supposed to last 15 days. It begins with New Year's Day and ends with the Lantern Festival on the 15th day, and every day in between is supposed to be celebrated with different foods (the 3rd day is supposed to be feast of fruits), but like Christmas in our modern world, it is just too difficult to celebrate more than one day. But with everything Aunty cooks, we have leftovers for days anyway, and more importantly we keep our Chinese traditions alive. It is one of my favorite holidays and I think my Po Po is happy to see her great grandsons ringing the bell for her and starting to enjoy the same foods she used to cook.

Gung Hee Fat Choy - Part II: A Day of Harmony

2010-02-20T23:47:00.003-10:00

Of all of the major holidays, Chinese New Year is probably the busiest of all for me. There are so many traditions to observe, and things to prep for that, Christmas shopping seems like a breeze in comparison. Despite Valentine's Day, President's Day, and Mardi Gras all being on the same 3 day weekend this year, greeting the new year majorly took precedence over all of them.

Of course preparation for Chinese New Year begins way before New Year's itself, and we each have our designated roles. My wife is a veteran narcissus bulb carver, with her own set of specialized narcissus carving tools. She's never done anything really fancy, like getting it to grow into the shape of a duck or a teapot, but her flowers always come beautifully curly and bloom evenly and brightly by the new year. As for myself, as a graduate of Hoo Cho Chinese School in my youth, I'm the family's resident calligrapher. So a week before New Year's I get started writing a dui leen, or the red paper blessings. You will find these 4 word couplets (like the words Gung Hee Fat Choy) hanging in a pair or two pairs in just about every Chinese home and business on the island. They express all the good wishes that a family or business would want to receive for the coming year, such as prosperity and wealth, good health, longevity, posterity and many good children, good luck, and a plethora of other wishes. The words Gung Hee Fat Choy themselves, such a common greeting in the islands at this time, don't actually mean "Happy New Year" (that's more directly translated as "Sun Neen Fai Lock"), but rather are a wish for prosperity, wealth, and happiness. It always amused me to think that the Vulcans might've been Chinese, because the Vulcan salute, "Live Long and Prosper", is so easily translatable into one of these couplets ("Cheong Fook Cheong Sau"). While these couplets usually stay up all year long, every new year, fresh ones should be put up and the old ones burned (to give thanks for having recieved the blessings over the last year). So I usually spend the week leading up to new years, writing like mad for all my family's houses and businesses.

4 Couplets in Chinese Calligraphy (left to right):

May 1 investment yields 10,000 returns

May your house fill with gold and jade

May you be as strong as a dragon and healthy as a horse

May the flowers be beautiful and the moon be round (ie. May all be right with the world)

Other things that must be done before the new year include things like:

Getting your haircut (along with cutting your fingernails and shaving). Barbershops in Hawaii enjoy a small rush before Chinese New Year, as my own stylist noted as she was cutting my hair.
Paying off all debts. Aside of major things like mortgages, we always try to have all debts paid off by New Years.
Cleaning the house. This one is the biggie. My wife complains that I turn into an obsessive fanatical cleaning maniac just before new years (although recently she's complained that I'm not that way the rest of the year). But for me, it is sort of spring cleaning on speed. Of particular importance is sweeping the floor and cleaning the kitchen. My desk is usually such a mess the rest of the year I can't find anything, but on New Year's day, it will be spotless. Not mention scrubbing the bathrooms, vacuuming the floor, dusting all the surfaces, etc. I've recently discovered how much more difficult this task is with children, who have toys covering every inch of your house, and no where to really put them "away". When I'm done, I'm completely exhausted, but I feel primed and ready to seize the new year. There was one year that I spent Chinese New Year working in Guam, and I didn't get a chance to clean the house at all. That year, I felt completely hapless, like walking into a final exam when you skipped out of every class and didn't bother to crack open the book at all. Having a clean house is just essential.

On the night before the New Year (ie. Chinese New Year's Eve), we always take a bath with the leaves of the boh look tree, freshly cut from our garden. The boh look (or pomelo fruit) is usually associated with Mid-Autumn Festival, but it also symbolizes purity, so taking a bath with the leaves of this tree floating in the water is meant to cleanse away the tribulations of the past year. Besides, it is such a relaxing and surreal feeling to have these slightly fragrant green leaves floating around you. After the bath, my mom would give us a small li see (those lucky red envelopes), to put at the foot of our beds, along with a tangerine to sleep with. The tangerine, is also symbolic, because the sound of the word for tangerine "gut", is a homonym which sounds like the word for prosperity. So a tangerine or orange at the foot of the bed, along with some li see beneath it, is symbolic of a prosperous new year. The stack looks kind of similar to the kagami mochi and orange stack that the Japanese display at regular New Year's Day. The only tricky part is being careful not to kick the tangerine from your bed while you sleep (it's much easier to sleep with a tooth beneath your pillow).

My Son Sleeping with Li See and a Tangerine

On Christmas morning, children race out of bed to tear into their presents beneath the tree. On Chinese New Year morning it's sort of the opposite. The first thing children do is very formally wish their parents a happy new year, and to have good health and longevity ("Sun Neen Fai Lock. Sun Tai Ging Hong."). Children always go first, to give respect to their elders. Parents will then tell the kids all the good things they hope the kids will accomplish, learn, and experience this year. Along with those wishes comes another li see (this time with a little more money in it), as a gift for good luck and good fortune. Li See is actually given from any older married person, to any younger unmarried person. So when I was in grad school, all the Chinese students teased our older, married, classmate (who was only a few years older), asking for li see at Chinese New Year. But getting a li see is always about the good fortune being passed on, not about the money, and about the respect for the one giving it.

Chinese New Year's Day has it's own set of rules to follow:

Don't wash your hair. This will wash out all the good luck you've received at the coming of the new year. Besides, you should've had your hair cut already in your holiday preparations.
Don't sweep the ground. This will also sweep out all of the good fortune you've received. Besides that, everything should already be spotless with all the cleaning you've been doing this past week.
Don't cut anything with a knife. You don't want to be cutting the relationships between you and your loved ones.
In fact, you really shouldn't be cooking or cleaning at all on New Year's Day. All of that should be finished before New Year's.
You should wear new clothes. Whenever my mom gives me any clothes for Christmas, I always save one set to wear on Chinese New Year, not so far away. Preferably you should be wearing red, as that's the color of happiness (just like the green you'd wear on St. Patrick's Day, or the orange and black you wear at Halloween).
Hopefully the narcissus will bloom on New Year's Day, as it will bring in extra prosperity that year.
Shopkeepers must make a sale to the first customer in their store. So this is actually a great time to try barganing with them, because they won't let you walk away.
Anything you do that day, you'll be doing for the rest of the year, so you generally want to be doing something fun or something productive.
Above all, don't argue with your family that day. You don't want to strain your family relationships on that day, and you certainly don't want to be arguing with them all year long. It's kind of like not pouting or Santa won't bring you gifts, but with a lot more dire consequences.

It's funny, there are so many ways to jeopardize the good fortune you receive on New Year's. Basically, it's supposed to be just a nice peaceful, harmonious day, where you avoid any kind of conflict. These are really old Cantonese superstitions, and people from other parts of China may or may not observe them. In fact, there is variance from family to family, but this is what my own Goong Goong and Po Po observed.

Other Chinese families may have a big Chinese dinner, but because my mom's family was Buddhist, New Year's Day was always a strictly vegetarian day for us. This goes along with the spirit of the day being free from conflicts or harm to others. When I was little, this never bothered me so much, as what I wound up eating was peanut butter over hot rice (something my Po Po used to love). To this day, I love eating peanut butter and rice, as it reminds me of my childhood and my time with her. These days, I am famously not fond of vegetarianism, as promoted by granola crunching crowd, but this is an entirely different story. Besides not wanting to rock my karmac balance, the vegetarian food that we get to eat on New Year's Day, is my mom's awesome jai.

My Mom's Jai

Good jai may be the single most complex dish in the entire Chinese culinary repetoire. However, I've never found any restaurant that serves the kind of jai that my mom makes. Restaurant jai is relatively simple in flavors and ingredients. There is really no way that they could afford to serve homemade style jai, which on average has around 30 different ingredients. Not only are there many, many ingredients, but many of them are exotic vegetables that you've hardly ever heard of, and probably only ever eat at new year's time. There are the more common like dong gu (or shiitake mushrooms) which are incredibly plump and meaty, lotus root (or hasu), which is just perfectly crunchy, won bok (napa cabbage), and baby corns. There are also many more exotic vegetables, like fat choy (which is a seaweed that looks exactly like strands of black hair), mook yee (or wood ear fungus, which looks like a big floppy elephant's ear), and gum jun (or golden lily buds). There are so many forms of bean curds, each with a totally different texture, like fried tofu or wu jook (the flat wrinkled sheets of bean curd you usually see as a bed below your dim sum). There are also many other ingredients, with only Chinese names, that I'm really unfamiliar with. And everything is held together with a base flavor of bat gock (star anise) and different kinds of tofu mui (fermented bean paste), both of which give the dish a really old Chinese flavor.

My Mom's Army Pot of Jai

My mom actually originally learned how to make jai from the famous local author/chef June Tong (who wrote PoPo's Kitchen), who is a good family friend. But over the years, my mom has naturally modified the recipe, and it has evolved into something uniquely hers. These days, she cooks an actual army pot worth of jai, to give away to friends and family just before New Year's. What really amazes me about her jai, is how there are so many different flavors and textures, and yet everything works together so harmoniously. There are crunchy things, there are soft things, there are jelly like things, there are meaty things, and yet they don't real clash with each other. That's really difficult to do, with less than a dozen ingredients, much less with 3 times that many. But it all works, and it's all incredibly delicious. Although, I do like picking through my jai to try to taste each thing individually sometimes. My favorite is the mook yee (or wood ear), with its big floppy form yet crunchy texture.

My Best Friend's Aunty's Jai

Every Chinese family has their own recipe for jai.   With that many ingredients, every family's jai tastes very different. My best friend's aunty also always gives me some every year, and I always adore her jai.   She uses different ingredients from my mom. Many of which are a little more recognizable like snow peas, carrot medallions (which are meant to look like gold coins), 3 or 4 different types of mushrooms, and water chestnuts.   Even the base flavoring is different, which almost reminds me of a peanut buttery taste.   I would tend to go back and forth, year to year, deciding which jai I liked better for that year. Both are equally complex, and equally delicious. If there were one big difference, I would say that my mom's has a much older Cantonese flavor, the flavors that remind me of my Po Po and really old style cooking, whereas my best friend's aunty's is a much more modern classic Hong Kong taste.

Many Chinese families, my best friend's included, will often put hou see (or dried oyster) in their jai for flavoring.   This seems always seems appropriate for New Year's, as hou see is another homonym, which sounds like the words for "good news" (something you naturally want in the New Year).   Of course, this however makes the jai, no longer vegetarian.  True monks would never eat oysters (or any meat), in their jai.  If you want to taste the truest jai, then you really need to go to a Buddhist temple and try what the monks themselves eat.   Not many people know about it, but Hsu Yun Temple, tucked away in Nuuanu, always serves jai to anyone that visits the temple for free on Chinese New Year's. It's on a first come first serve basis and they usually run out way before noon.  But their jai is absolutely fantastic, as you would expect it to be since this the kind of food the monks actually eat, and they have naturally perfected their vegetarianism over thousands of years.  Aside of that, Hsu Yun Temple is one of the biggest, most beautiful, most secluded temples in Hawaii, rivaling Byodo-Inn, and it is where my mom's parents (my Po Po and Goong Goong) have their name placards.   So my family visits the temple every New Year to visit them, and to try the monks' awesome jai.

I have spoken to many friends from mainland China, who are really surprised that we adhere to all of these traditions for Chinese New Year.   In China's modern society, they often don't even practice many of these things anymore. However, living in Hawaii, our Chinese community has always tried to preserve and keep the traditions alive, sometimes much moreso than the Chinese in China. For me, it makes Chinese New Year one of the most special days of the year.

Gung Hee Fat Choy - Part I: Nights in Chinatown

2010-02-16T00:15:00.001-10:00

Being Chinese, Chinese New Year is a really big holiday for my family. It's actually on par with Christmas in scope and importance. Just as the Christmas season really kicks into gear after Thanksgiving, with a solid month of music, sales and parties prior to Christmas Day, Chinese New Year starts getting underway shortly after regular New Year's Day. The Chinese community in Hawaii swells with pride, sharing its food and culture with all of our neighbors.

Rows of Narcissus Bulbs in the Sun

The first thing that many Chinese families do after Christmas is head to Chinatown to buy narcissus (or sui seen fa) bulbs. While in the Western world, the narcissus is synonymous with vanity as derived from Greek mythology, in Chinese mythlology the narcissus flower (which resembles a little cup of gold) was said to bring wealth and prosperity to those who found it. So it is heavily cultivated at Chinese New Year's time, for its delicate, sweet fragrance, beauty, and as a symbol of wealth for the coming year. Narcissus bulbs (which are similar to onions) can even be carved to grow into elaborate and intricate shapes, something which has evolved into a classic Chinese art form. It takes roughly a month to grow from bulb to blossom, and seeing the rows of little sprouting bulbs in water filled bowls bathing in the sunlight on my Po Po's steps always used to put me into the mood for Chinese New Years (the same way that Christmas music starts putting you in the Christmas spirit). If the narcissus flowers would bloom on Chinese New Year's day, it would be extra lucky, and a sure sign of coming wealth in the new year.

My Baby Boy's First Whiff of Narcissus

The positive connotation of the narcissus flower (which is completely opposite of the Western connotation) also lends its name to the biggest Chinese celebration in Hawaii, the Narcissus Festival.   It was originally conceived following World War II as a way to re-invigorate the economy the post-war economy by showcasing and celebrating the Chinese culture.  The selection of the new Narcissus Queen, always seems like the big kickoff to the Chinese New Year celebration in Hawaii. While other big Chinese communities around the world may have a Miss Chinatown pageant (as do we), the Narcissus pageant is very different from any other beauty pageant. All of the contestants in the pageant receive very rigorous training, with over a dozen different classes in different aspects of Chinese culture and history.  Not only does the queen and court represent the Chinese community in many official functions around town throughout the year, but she also spends 3 weeks in China, meeting with governors and other heads of state as a cultural ambassador.   Feminists may scorn the beauty pageants on the mainland, which they think objectifies women, but the Narcissus contestants are always very highly educated, dynamic, strong willed women who are interested in reconnecting with their Chinese heritage and representing the Chinese community in Hawaii.   It is the very feminist ideal, and no wonder that many of these women become leaders in their respective fields and the community.

The festivities begin with the pageant itself, where you won't find them dressed in swimsuits, but a classy and elegant Chinese cheong sams (which can cost around $1,000 a piece when adorned with Austrian crystals). Then in a week or two, the Coronation Ball, the most formal event of the year (the only time of the year we'd wear tuxedos instead of aloha shirts), where the newly crowned queen dances her first dance with the Governor of Hawaii or the Mayor of Honolulu.   Then in the next couple of weeks, the queen and court appear all over Chinatown as the streets are all coned off and turned into a huge party.

I love going to Chinatown on the weekend nights leading up to Chinese New Year. Sure, it's nearly impossible to find parking anywhere near Chinatown, and sure it's literally wall to wall people (something akin to Time's Square in New York on New Year's Eve), but being there always makes me feel like part of something bigger, like I'm connected to all of these people celebrating their heritage.   It always reminds me of those old movies, where the hero gets chased into Chinatown, and it just happens to be Chinese New Year, so the hero can slip away into the sea of people or hide under the dragon dancers, and is able to escape the villan (or vice versa).   With the amount of people in Chinatown on these nights, it's actually quite believable for Hollywood.

My Son Feeding the Lions

Of course, visiting Chinatown at New Year's means lion dances. It's nearly impossible to turn a corner without running into a lion dance. They're more plentiful than Starbucks. Every shop owner needs to have a lion dance come to bring good luck and prosperity for the new year. As a Cantonese person, I'm naturally far more partial to the colorful, kinda scary looking, Southern lions, rather than the Northern lions which look like big shaggy yellow dogs balancing on balls (although I do love that segment in Big Bird in China, where Barkley gets to prance around with 2 Northern lions). I also like the far more acrobatic and difficult lion dance to the long spectacle of the dragon dance (although dragons dances are becoming more common here than they were when I was a kid). In addition to bringing prosperity to a shop keeper, luck and prosperity for the coming year may be bestowed upon an individual if he feeds the lion (usually a dollar). So finding and feeding the lions is a must every year.

Tong Goh on Display at Sing Cheong Yuan

My favorite part about Chinese New Year though, is of course the many foods that are associated with New Years. As you wander through Chinatown in the weekends leading up to New Years, there are certain foods that are simply must haves, both in terms of tradition and good fortune. Missing them would be like Thanksgiving without turkey or Christmas without egg nog. The first big stop just has to be Sing Cheong Yuan for some tong goh (or dried candied fruits). At Moon Festival time, Sing Cheong Yuan is the king of mooncakes, but at Chinese New Years, their display cases are filled with every type of tong goh imagineable. While in Hawaii, rock salt plums and cherries are everyday snacks, the slightly sugared, dried fruits in tong goh are usually only eaten at New Years. Our tong goh is also different from the ones found in other Chinese communities, as it showcases many of our local tropical fruits. In any given box, you'll find, pineapple, coconut, mango, and papaya, along with carrot, lotus seed, lotus root (hasu), kumquat, apple, pear, ginger, and many others. Each fruit symbolizes something different for the new year, including, wealth and prosperity, good health and longevity, good luck, fertility, familiy unity, and overall happiness. My favorite has always been the pineapple, as it's deliciously sweet (lacking the tartness of fresh pineapple), it symbolizes wealth (resembling a giant golden Chinese coin with the whole in the middle), and it's the favorite of Professor Horace Slughorn (Harry Potter's last potions master).

Assorted Tong Goh from Sing Cheong Yuan

As you wander up Maunakea Street, and into the Chinese Cultural Plaza, perhaps the most popular snack item that everyone's crazy for at New Year's time, is jin dui. Similar to Japanese an dango, it's basically mochi, filled with black sugar, deep fried and rolled in sesame seeds. I always love watching the various Chinese clubs and civic organizations gather all their members to roll, fry, and sell jin dui for fundraising. They use the biggest woks I've ever seen in my life to fry up huge batches of jin dui, which sell out in no time to the massive crowd. Just like buying malasadas at Punahou Carnival, everyone wants jin dui at Chinese New Year, because you can never get it nearly as fresh and hot any other time of the year. Coming straight from the wok right before your eyes, the jin dui is crispy, chewy, sweet, and mouthwatering. Of course, you absolutely must eat it there, because not only is the noisy crowded streets of Chinatown the essential atmosphere for consuming these yummy morsels, but they will become soggy and cold in half an hour. So having them fresh and hot is absolutely essential to enjoying them. Like many great foods, its the contrast in textures that makes jin dui so appealing. Normally mochi is so soft and sticky, but when you deep fry it the outside is wonderfully crispy and contrasts the gooey inside. It's no wonder that everyone has to have one right out of the giant wok.

Big Box of Jin Dui

While jin dui is the dominant street food however, the most important food of all at New Year's is another form of mochi, gao. Despite being a Cantonese dish, for some reason everyone in Hawaii knows it by the Mandarin pronounciation of "gao", rather than the true Cantonese pronounciation, "gou" (or rather neen gou, meaning yearly pudding). This is somewhat ironic, because in Northern China, the form of gao they have is white and salty, rather than brown and sweet, and virtually unrecognizable to us as gao. But in Hawaii, we're all familiar with the soft, sticky brown sugar mochi we call gao. Like all the other New Year's dishes, gao is highly symbolic of New Year's wishes. The stickiness of the gao, is supposed to bind and hold the family together during the new year. The little sesame seeds on top are meant to represent having many little children. The single red date, placed like a cherry on top, symbolizes prosperity and happiness. Even its name, gou is homonymn for the word for "higher", so eating it is supposed to raise yourself up in the coming year. Having gao is as essential to Chinese New Year, as kagami mochi (the stack of round white mochi topped with an orange) is for the Japanese at regular New Year.

Rows of Gao

Of course no one makes gao the way that my Po Po used to make it. For one thing, she would make it Hawaiian style, lining the pan with ti leaves (the same way that lau lau is wrapped in ti leaves). But what made hers the best was the texture. Many gao you find on the market are just too sticky and gooey. Some are the opposite, and when it is too firm it has a chalky, stale taste, like sinking your teeth into hard wax. My Po Po's gao was the perfect texture. Sticky yet firm enough to hold its shape when cut. It was sweet, but not overpoweringly so, as Chinese deserts are never as sweet as Western ones. No other gao I've ever tasted has ever been as good. Even leftover old gao can be made appetizing once more, by dipping it in egg and frying it as the Hong Kongese do. Frying piece of old gao makes the center soft again, and the outside gets crispy, not unlike a good jin dui. It's something you just can't get enough of when done right.

Hawaiian Style Gao with Ti Leaf Lining

Every year, despite the crowds, we just have to make the trek into Chinatown to join the festivity. You never feel more happy and proud to be Chinese.

1-2-Bite-Cut-Chew

2010-01-17T11:38:00.002-10:00

While we do have a significant number of Mexican restaurants, other Hispanic cuisines aren't so readily represented here in the islands.   In particular, I really have no inkling what South American cuisine is like.   I have naturally always assumed that the cuisine would be very similar to Mexican food, but this is a huge fallacy. French food and Italian food have next to nothing in common.   Chinese food and Japanese food are just as dissimilar.   In fact, I really hate the term "Asian". At least when we were called "Oriental", there was some exotic, mystical appeal to it.   But, when I'm on the mainland and they call me "Asian American", I always feel like, "Chinese and Japanese are so different, what you cannot even tell us apart??". I would much rather be called, "local Chinese", or more simply "Pake" will do.   It really annoys the hell out of me.   So by the same token, thinking that all the Latin American cultures are the same does them the same discourtesy. Unfortunately, since they have very little representation here in the islands, we don't really get the opportunity to explore and get acquainted with their various cultures.

While there are few South American restaurants, we cannot say that they have had no influence in our culture.   In fact, it was gauchos and Mexican vaqueros, who came over to train our local paniolos when cattle was first introduced to the islands.   Because of this, the paniolo methods and tools are very still more similar to the gauchos than to the cowboys of Texas.  Because of their excellent training, the original paniolos (like Ikua Purdy) would consistently out-rope the Texas boys in competition (something they don't like to talk about).

Fittingly enough, when the Ward 16 complex first finished construction, we had a restaurant called Gaucho Grill. Like Compadres, it was actually part of a small California chain. Unfortunately, also like Compadres, most of that chain has closed including the one at Ward.   But for a while we had the opportunity to enjoy Argentina style asado in our own backyard.   Of course, being part of a California based chain, I always questioned the authenticity of the Argentine flavor. But then again, being steak, it isn't exactly a complex dish. I'm pretty sure the steak itself was not imported from Argentina, so that leaves only the seasonings to convey the true Argentine flavor. When I visited Gaucho Grill, the skirt steak that I had was as tender and juicy as expected.   But I was a litlte disappointed in flavors weren't all that distinguishable from any other Western style steak place.   For the most part, steak stands on its own, and unless you're doing teppanyaki, the beef flavor doesn't change all that much.   Of course Argentina is famous for its vast quantities of flayed carcasses being grilled over open flame, so the skirt steak was probably representative, if not entirely accurately, of their cuisine.   When I think of gaucho cuisine though, I just can't help but think of Goofy describing gaucho lifestyle in his 1942 short, El Gaucho Goofy, a segment from the Disney classic Saludos Amigos.   With bread and meat protruding from each side of his hand, and naught but a knife in the other to eat with (1-2-bite-cut-chew), Goofy simultaneously conveyed both humor as well as the mouthwatering nature of the food. To me, that will always be what Argentine cuisine is all about.

The only other major South American cuisine that we had in the islands, was in the form of a Brazilian barbecue, otherwise known as a churrascaria.   If you've never been to a churrascaria, it is basically a buffet, where a never ending line of waiters come to you with huge rapier like skewers loaded with meat. They slide you off a piece or cut you off a portion to enjoy until the next waiter comes along with the next type of meat. It's a huge meatfest, with different cuts of steaks, chicken, sausages, pork, and lamb, enough meat to gorge any voracious carnivore. You're left feeling really heavy, stuffed full of meat, meat, and more meat.   In Hawaii, this meatopia could be found in McCully Shopping Center, at a place called Tudo de Bon.

Tudo de Bon was brightly lit and clean, but not really adorned with Brazilian decor.   Instead, they focused letting the food convey the authenticity.  Going to the bar for the side dishes, the most unusual (and very Brazilian) thing they had was a ground up powder called farofa, that you would sprinkle on your rice or dip your meat into.   To me the farofa didn't really add much flavor, so much as a powdery, mealy texture which to be perfecty honest I didn't really care for.   But it was the most authentically , and uniquely Brazilian thing that they offered.   The rest of the bar included various pastas and salads, which may or may not have been really Brazilian, but certainly weren't as memorable.   Of course the most memorable thing at Tudo de Bon was the meat.   There was tons of it.   Like the skirt steak at Gaucho Grill, I really didn't taste seasonings that really differentiated it from any other grilled meat, but it was all very succulent and tasty.   I tried to find similarities to Mexican food, but there really weren't any in any of the spices.   I tried to find similarities to our local Portuguese food, knowing how big an influence the Portuguese had in Brazil, but the closest thing they had were sausages that were similiar but not really the same as our own Portuguese sausage. They really just grilled it to bring out the natural flavors of the meat itself.   While they had so many different types of steak, it was really the chicken drumettes, the sausages, and when they had it the bacon wrapped turkey that I liked the best. After eating sirloin (picanha) tri tip, ribeye, filet mignon, and even lamb, all the red meats kind of blur together.   But it was a great experience just to have them bring everything by on those huge skewers.   The only problem was that they were really slow.   Whenever we went, it seemed like they only had one waiter (who actually bore a striking resembalance to Sylvester Stallone) going back and forth with different skewers. I think it was this lack of proficiency in running an efficient restaurant that lead to their closing. Sadly, they took with them our only window into Brazilian cuisine.

Latin America has never been really high on my travel list, so I don't know that I'll ever taste the truly authentic cuisines of this region.   But, the absense of Gaucho Grill and Tudo de Bon did leave me curious for more. If only my Brazilian friend, Simone, knew how to cook, I'd be all set.

It's a Wrap!

2010-01-14T13:10:00.002-10:00

Burritos have always been traditionally Mexican, but since the 80's, people have been trying to wrap all kinds of things in a big flour tortilla. People wrap up cold cuts and cheese to make a pseudo-sandwich. People wrap up salads. These days McDonald's and KFC even offer snack wraps that have hamburgers or fried chicken in them. Ever since the trendy low-carb diet craze, people have been substituting tortillas for buns and trying capitolize on the wrap craze. But only certain places do it well.

Gutbuster Burrito (with Carnitas) from BC Burrito

The traditional predecessor to a wrap is of course the burrito. So named for the way the farmers would bundle their wares on their "little donkeys", or from the backs of which they would sell food from (like lunchwagons from the 1800s), burritos in Mexico are considerably smaller than the mammoth purses in the U.S.. There is some debate about what distinguishes a burrito from a soft taco, but the general consensus is that a burrito is a little larger, may feature more ingredients, but most characteristically the way that it is wrapped. Tightly tucked in on both ends and rolled like a sleeping bag, burritos are much less messy than a loosely folded or cigar rolled soft taco. It is this tight wrapping technique that distinguishes the best burritos or wraps.

Gutbuster Burrito (with Carnitas) from BC Burrito

There are quite a few Mexican places on the island, each with their own burrito offerings. However, while places like Maui Tacos, go for the wet approach of making a huge, plate-sized, overstuffed burritos, swimming in Mexican red sauce, this approach, which really requires a knife and fork, is not extremely condusive to the portability that has made wraps so popular. For me, the best wrapped burrito on the island can be found at a little place called BC Burrito on Waialae by Koko Head. For one thing, the tortillas they use are more fun and colorful than most places, with flavors like spinach (for a pretty green burrito), jalapeno & cheese, and tomato & chipotle. Not only do they add flavor, but the texture is a little softer, more doughy, more elastic, and a little more sticky than the traditional flour or corn tortillas. The result is a very tightly bundled wrap that retains strong cohesiveness and does not fall apart while you're eating it. For an addtional level of structural integrity, they wrap your burrito in aluminum foil, which you can peel off, one circle at a time, exposing only what you're going to eat while the rest of the foil continues to hold everything together. This tight cohesion not only enhances portability, but compresses the ingredients together into a much more unified food item, rather than just a hodge podge of separate flavors.

Gutbuster Burrito (with Carnitas) from BC Burrito

BC Burrito uses their excellent wrapping technique to envelope just an entire Tex Mex meal into a single handheld monstrosity. While their Super burrito is more than large enough to feed any really hungry sane individual, I opted to try their enormous Gutbuster burrito. This gargantuan thing is as long as my forearm, and thick as the thickest part of a wine bottle or softball bat. It is also extremely packed with rice, meat (their carnitas have a wonderful smokey taste), cheese, sour cream and guacamole, and salsa (of which my favorite is a very tasty chipotle & corn mixture). It is so tightly packed with stuff, that just holding it you can feel the incredible weight of all that food. It's a bit much, even for me, and I left the place feeling as overstuffed as the burrito itself, but immensely satisfied and happy.

Potato Burrito from BC Burrito

The most original and tasty thing at BC Burrito however is departure from the traditional Tex Mex form. It is their signature potato burrito, filled with seasoned potatoes, grilled onions, cheddar cheese, salsa, and a nice creamy ranch. Their potatoes are prefectly seasoned, diced and fried, and surprisingly full of flavor. As my wife would say, they're full of potatoey goodness. It really says something that my wife, who really despises Mexican food in general, likes their potato burrito. They've replaced the Mexican flavor with something a little more universal. But if you want to add that Mexican flavor back in, they've got a big bar with several dozen different exotic types of hot sauces. Of course, the only hot sauce that truly has the authentic Mexican blend of flavors and spices, is Cholula (which they have in large quantities). Add a little Cholula to anything and it tastes authentically Mexican, right?

The potato burrito is a great example of how wraps have evolved beyond the traditional Mexican burrito. On the mainland, even Chinese food gets wrapped burrito style in something called moo shu pork, which is pork, julienne black mushrooms, maybe some bamboo shoot slivers, some egg, and hoisin sauce all rolled into a crepe. In Hawaii, with all of our Chinese population being decended from Cantonese farmers, this dish is almost unheard of. I, myself, had clue what this dish was the first time I went to the mainland, where it is a common "Chinese" menu item. Luckily, I had experienced this dish once by the time Disney named their little dragon, Mooshu, so I could catch the reference in Mulan. But I'm not sure that everyone here in Hawaii (or in China for that matter) did. Regardless, it just goes to show how just about anything gets wrapped up these days.

Turkey Bacon Wrap from Salad Creations

Since the advent of the low carb diet, wraps have become very popular, especially salad wraps. Now, I have never understood the point of low carb diets. Supposedly, you can eat something as fatty as a hamburger (smothered in gravy even), but throw it on a bed of shredded cabbage instead of white rice or a bun, and suddenly it becomes healthy for you, and you can even lose weight by eating it? Yeah right. But I will say that salad wraps are tasty enough. These days if we're craving a salad wrap, we head over to Salad Creations in Koko Marina. They chop their salad, so the mixture of small chopped up pieces fits better in the wrap than other places where big leaves of lettuce in your wrap can get unruly and cause the whole thing to fall apart. The other nice thing is that they add just enough dressing to bind the salad together within the wrap, adding a little more of that necessary cohesion.

My very favorite place to get different types of wraps on the island though, is sadly gone and way before it's time. It was a little place in Manoa Marketplace called Pili Wraps Cafe. They used to use tortillas that were very similar to the ones served at BC Burrito, resulting in the same tightly packed, cohesive goodness. However, instead of filling those wraps with just Mexican flavors, Pili Wraps put all kinds of things in their wraps. They used to make a chicken caeser salad wrap that would put Salad Creations to shame. It had the full caesar flavor and crunch of a real salad, but tightly bound in handheld form. They also made a terrific spicy Thai peanut sauce chicken wrap and an Indonesian chicken wrap that really captured the flavors of Southeast Asia. But my favorite was always their Cajun chicken wrap. Instead of the Mexican rice you would find in most burritos, this wrap had real Cajun dirty rice. The chicken was perfectly tender grilled white meat chicken. Everything was then smothered in a wonderful creamy, spicy Cajun sauce that actually had the right blend of spices. Sinking your teeth into this warm soft wrap was a great combination of textures from the ever so slightly chewy doughy tortilla, to the tender meaty chicken, to the soft beads of rice. It was warm and filling and utterly delicious. I was very sad to see Pili Wraps close before they got the chance to establish a following and make some lasting memories. BC Burrito may wrap the perfect burrito, but Pili Wraps used to dominate the non-Mexican wraps.

Wraps are still changing and evolving, but when people wrap them as expertly as BC Burrito or Pili Wraps, they should be more than just a passing food fad.

Yo Quiero

2010-01-13T02:37:00.000-10:00

I have a confession to make. It is in fact, a deep, dark, dirty, shameful secret whose revelation will probably elicit scorn and shun. It is a scandalous, obscene base desire that haunts me every time it manifests its mortifying grip on my being. My credibility as a contributing adult, much less a serious food afficionado, walks a precarious line with this licentious information. But the truth is, I love Taco Bell (or should I say, "Yo Quiero").

Taco Supremes & Burrito Surpreme from Taco Bell

I know, I know. Taco Bell hardly even qualifies as real food, much less authentic Mexican cuisine, as pointed out in my favorite webcomic, "It's Walky!".    But just like it's eponymous star, Walky, I harbor a ravenous desire for its tasty food like substances, and wind up ordering half the menu every time I walk in.   The thing is, that growing up, Taco Bell really was my first and only exposure to Tex-Mex cuisine.   I never even knew that tacos were originally soft tortillas, not hard ones, until they introduced soft tacos to their menu.   While I despised (and still do) refried beans, the combination of ground beef, sour cream, cheese, lettuce, tomato and olive, was such an alluring mixture (which for a long time represented their entire menu in served in different forms and ratios). I think it was the sour cream that really made the difference. The other ingredients can easily be found atop any burger, but the "Mexican" seasonings playing against the sour cream was just unique and addictive as crack.   Despite having been exposed to more authentic Mexican cuisine, I still fondly and uncontrollably covet their guilty, pleasure inducing consumables.

I have, in the course of my life, been exposed to more authentic Mexican tacos and burritos.   In L.A., where I went to grad school, and in New York, where my sister did, taco trucks are as bountiful as our lunchwagons. Like our lunchwagons, taco trucks are the cheapest, most authentic forms of the indigenous food available.   There is nothing like walking down the street at 1 AM, wearing leather jacket and gloves, with your breath visible in front of your face, and ordering a steaming tortilla, covered with savory carnitas and fresh salsa from the side of a truck. It's warm and delicious, and as authentic an experience as you can hope for.

If you're not up for eating something from the back of a truck at 1 AM, there are small hole in the wall places you can go to, but they are somehow equally as seedy.  When visiting my pal, Jim, in San Francisco, he took me to a little place in the Mission District, on Mission and 19th, called Taqueria Cancun.   The Mission District is a bastion of the Hispanic community in San Francisco, but is also home to some of San Francisco's more "colorful" elements.   When visiting Taqueria Cancun, you must be prepared to walk past some unsound, unkept, vagrants who will swear and offer lewd comments to your mother. Seriously. (Mom and I just ignored him.) But that just adds to the authentic experience right?   Once inside, it feels like a colorful, safe haven, with the spicy aromas of the foods steaming up the glass partitions.   Of course it isn't truly authentic, unless you've got calves' brains (sesos) and cow tongue (lengua) as beef options, and some exotic Mexican fruit drinks (agua fresca) to accompany them.  If you're adventurous enough to actually wander through the Mission District, Taqueria Cancun is the real deal when it comes to Mission style burritos.

Back home in Hawaii, you'd be a little hard pressed to find a real taqueria that offers the authentic beef tongue or brains. Since we don't have nearly the Hispanic population that California does, we might as well kick it island style instead. For that, you can head over to the Queen Kaahumanu Shopping Center on the island of Maui (or right over to Kailua Village in Kailua), for some Maui Tacos. The great thing about Maui Tacos, is that they know that they can't deliver the truly authentic Mexican tacos and burritos, so they don't even bother to try. Instead they blend Mexican cuisine with some island flavors to give it our own unique spin. For example, instead of truly authentic mouth watering carnitas, they offer mango bbq pork and they marinade many of their meats in pineapple juice. The result is a much fruitier, sweeter, more tropical version of Mexican food, that really has a local flavor.

Mild End of the Salsa Bar at Maui Tacos

Probably the best thing about Maui Tacos is visisting their salsa bar. They have a nice variety of about 6 different salsas, ranging from mild to hot (well not THAT hot, but hot enough), each with their own unique flavor. One the mild end, their sweetness (or the tartness) of the tomatoes is really dominant (depending on how sweet or tart the original tomatoes were). Sweet or tart, the freshness of the tomatoes is what really shines through. They've also got a nice salsa verde (green salsa) in which you can taste the fresh tartness of the jalapenos.

Hot End of the Salsa Bar at Maui Tacos

On the hotter end, their chipotle salsa is brightly sweetened by the infusion of mango. Unfortunately, the sweetness kills all the nice smokiness (but not the heat) that chipotle normally brings. It's a very different flavor than what you're expecting of chipotle. Chipotle is also the hottest that they get, much less wandering into habanero territory. But their best, most original salsa is their pineapple passion salsa. It is instantly recognizable being bright yellow instead of green or red. The pineapple gives such a refreshing, sweet taste, that it really brightens up whatever you pour it on. For dipping and eating straight, none of their salsas can compare to the perfect blend of spice and fresheness of the singluar salsa that Torito's offers. But Maui Tacos makes up for it in variety and originality, and it really compliments their food when pouring over thier tacos or burritos.

Chimichanga (with Mango BBQ Pork) from Maui Tacos

As the chimichanga is my favorite Mexican dish in general, I tried that first. Rather than the very crunchy thicker tortilla you find at Torito's, the chimichanga at Maui Tacos has a lighter crispier shell. All of the ingredients inside reflect the whole freshness that Maui Tacos has in general. A nice change from those wretched refried beans at most Mexican restaurants, you can get whole black beans. But they still aren't cooked long enough to have the nice uber creamy texture that cajun red beans and rice does. The steak really has a flavorful char broiled taste to it. But I did have to pour some of their salsa over it to liven it up. In general, however, their chimichanga just isn't as good as the melty, savory, yumminess that is the one at Torito's. Their approach, emphasizing the freshness of each individual ingredient, is solid but it doesn't compare to the flavorful blended harmony that Toritos' has.

Lahaina Burrito from Maui Tacos

Rather than a chimichanga or taco, the thing I liked best at Maui Tacos was their Lahaina burrito. To me the best thing about the Lahaina is that it is stuffed with Mexican rice rather than beans. Since I don't like beans to begin with, this is a huge bonus to me. But also, the rice works really well with the tender savory mango bbq pork. Additionally, the burrito being served "wet" (covered with Mexican red sauce) gives it the right flavor and moistness, that you don't need to add any more salsa. This burrito is also seriously stuffed and a nice size for a good lunch.

The Signature Maui Taco from Maui Tacos

Maui Tacos is just about the opposite end of the spectrum from Taco Bell. While one is a greasy pseudo-food item that feeds your junk food addiction, the other emphasizes freshenss of each individual ingredient. Neither of them are authentically Mexican, as Taqueria Cancun, but the originality and tropical fruity flavors at Maui Tacos makes them stand out. The only problem is that every time I go there, I keep thinking of those super annoying Bu La'ia radio commercials they used to run. Somehow his slovenly, crass, unrefined demeanor is so contradictory to the fresh, tropical flavors that Maui Tacos offers.

I don't know that I'll ever get to walk down the street in Mexico city, and encounter a bubbling cauldron filled with assorted animal parts to be savored over a warm just handmade tortilla under a sprinkling of freshly chopped and mixed salsa. Then again, at home, I'm comfortable knowing I'm not going to be spending the rest of the night riding the procelain express either.

Viva La Raza!

2010-01-07T02:46:00.002-10:00

I spent my college years in the sprawling heat of Los Angeles, a city with a very strong Mexican influence. I used to really enjoy going down Olivera St., listening to the mariachi bands and eating Mexican food. But for all of the time that I spent in L.A., I still don't really feel that I know what authentic Mexican food really is. Yes, I've eaten my fair share of Mexican food, but I've always felt like it was Tex-Mex. Mexican food, as interpreted by or watered down for gringos.   Watching Anthony Bourdain only served to amplify this apprehension, because he has been so vehement about his love for "real" Mexican food and his dislike of "fake" Mexican food, like Chilis.   Have I only ever been exposed to the fake stuff?  Have I never tasted the true Mexican flavors? Even I know that hard shell tacos, and anything slathered in sour cream or nacho cheese certainly isn't real Mexican food.   I want to know what Mexican food tastes like, if it were made by a grandmother in Puebla. What I really need is a Mexican friend who would take me home for a family meal, to get the true flavors (of course the same goes for Filipino food and Indian food).   Until then, I'm stuck eating whatever the restaurants deem fit to serve, regardless of how authentic it is.

Hawaii does not have nearly the same level of Mexican influence that L.A. does. Whereas on the mainland, it is really beneficial to have all the signs and instruction booklets in English and Spanish, in Hawaii it is much more practical to have them in English and Japanese. However, my friend Marie at the Latin Business Association, would kick me if I said we had no Hispanic population whatsoever.   We certainly have a number of Mexican restaurants, but without a large Hispanic population, there really isn't anyone who would notice if they got it wrong. Nevertheless, they certainly are popular enough.

My favorite Mexican restaurant used to be Compadres in Ward Center.   They were always a little more upscale than any other Mexican restaurant, and were part of a California based chain (both things which always made me wonder if this wasn't more oriented towards gringos). But their food was always fresh and tasty to me.  I particularly liked their taco fiesta platter for two, which gave you a nice warm stack of tortillas, some beef, some chicken, some pork, some cheese, some guacamole, some sour cream, some jalapenos, and a few different types of salsa, and let you build whatever combinations you wanted.  I think the variety of little dishes just appealed to me, as did the ability to assemble whatever I wanted. But, was this really how families in Oaxaca eat? Since our Compadres abruptly closed (as did most of the chain), I will never really have the chance to compare.   I've also needed to find a new place of my Mexican fix.    I know that Jose's on Koko Head has been around for a long time, but somehow they've never clicked for me.  Residents on the Aiea side certainly swear by Banditos, but it's a little far to go just for a burrito. But I found a small little watering hole, right in Market City Shopping Center, called Torito's Mexican Food, that not only serves what I perceive to be authentic Mexican, but definitely some of the best Mexican food I've ever tasted.

Tortilla Chips & Salsa at Torito's

To begin with, instead of bread and butter, like any good Mexican restaurant they give you tortilla chips and salsa. But this is not your ordinary bag of Tostitos and a bowl of Pace Picante. The chips at Torito's have an extraordinary texture. They're perfectly crisp, but do not any hint of oiliness to them. They don't have all of the bumpiness and salt of a tostitos, and are overall thinner and lighter. They have an amazing crunch for something so thin in fact. They are so totally addictive, your hand just seems to pass them to your mouth on automatic. But it is the salsa that, to me, is out of this world. They only have one type, not a long bar like some other places, but with salsa this good, all you need is one. Whereas Pace has the consistency of ketchup with some chunks of vegetables in it, the salsa at Torito's has the texture of finely minced fresh crisp tomatoes. It's similar to the texture of the green onion and ginger that you get with good cold ginger chicken. It's not so much a sauce as it is a relish. Like good lomi lomi salmon, it is served nicely chilled, which conterbalances its spiciness. To me, it is also the perfect blend of spiciness that doesn't overpower the fresh taste of the other vegetables in it. I have had a lot of different salsa, but the one at Torito's is my favorite. Of course, if it isn't spicy enough for you, you can ask them for some of their special "hot" salsa. It's a green salsa made with jalapeno peppers and habanero peppers (infamous for being on the very hot end of the Scoville scale). It is so hot, it will be burning your tummy for the next 2 days.

Taquitos at Torito's

Once you've gotten past the chips and salsa, Torito's makes a mean taquito. When I was little, the taquito was always my favorite Mexican dish. I think it was because I didn't, and still don't, like the texture of refried beans. While most places put refried beans in just about every dish, a taquito is just a cigar shaped roll of meat. With just meat and nothing else, except a little guacamole or sour cream to dip in, and a shape that is just perfect for little hands to hold and little mouths to wrap around, it's no wonder I loved them as a kid. The taquitos at Torito's are fantastic because, at a lot of places the taquitos are crispy on the ends but the middles get soggy with oil or soaking in guacamole. At Torito's the taquitos are crunchy from end to end, but the meat is still juicy inside. What more can you ask for?

Chimichanga at Torito's

As I grew older and learned to tolerate a little bit of refried beans, my favorite Mexican dish became the chimichanga. I know, with the amount of sour cream and jack cheese on both my taquitos and my chimichanga, I'm really only wading into gringo fare. I'm sure that no real Mexican grandmother from Veracruz would ever deep fry their burrito. But they just taste so good, especially the one at Torito's. I especially like my filled with carnitas or roasted pork. In fact, Mexican carnitas aren't too dissimilar from kalua pig, except for a difference in seasoning. Diving into layers of juicy pork, cheese, rice, guacamole, sour cream, and other goodies, my mind shuts down and I just never want to stop trancelike shovelling it into my face.

Tacos Al Pastor at Torito's

As good as the standard Tex-Mex fare tastes, watching Bourdain made me really want to experience more authentic south of the border cuisine. One of the most enticing things he ate was a specialty of Mexico City called tacos al pastor. He said that they were so good, they became the preferred meal option for the entire crew for the entire trip (which really says something). So imagine my surprise when I saw it on the menu at Torito's. Just looking at them, you know you're geting something different from the usual ground beef, refried beans, sour cream, lettuce, jack cheese, tomatoes and olives that pretty much defines Tex Mex food. This was a fresh, soft, tortilla that actually had a lot of corn flavor. Atop was some tender, juicy sliced pork, topped with a superbly fresh salsa. However, as delicious as it was, it was a little disappointing too. My understanding was that tacos al pastor was a Mexican version of the meat that you get on a gyro or shwarma in Greek cuisine. But the meat in the tacos al pastor was more similar to thinnly sliced pork chops, than it was like the super soft, super savory shavings of beef and lamb that you find in a gyro. This was one dish that, albeit tasty, left me wanting something more.

Chicken Mole at Torito's

If there was one dish though, that I thought was truly authentic Mexican grandmother food, it would have be mole. Mole is a spicy, chocolate based sauce that I first found out about reading a webcomic called Wapsi Square, whose lead character Monica is part Mexican. The fact that I had never even heard of it before, lead me to the believe that this was something truly authentically Mexican. For one thing, you hardly ever see it on the menu at a regular Tex Mex place. For another, it is a spicy savory blend of chocolate and chilis. For most of the country (or the world for that matter), we have a hard time thinking of chocolate as anything other than a sweet confection. Therefore the idea of chocolate covered chicken seems kind of repugnant. But originally, raw chocolate (which isn't sweet until you add sugar to it) was used by the Aztecs in the same way that chilis and other spices were. So a savory spicy melange made with chocolate would be very uniquely and authentically Mexican. When I first got to taste it at Torito's, I was really floored. Although chocolate may seem familiar, and Mexican spices may seem familiar, the mole had a flavor that I had truly never experienced before. It was at once firey and earthy. The fragrance of the chocolate danced around all of these different heady, picante spices. The chicken, while moist and tender, really was nothing more than a vehicle for this savory concoction (to call it a gravy or sauce seems almost degrading). I had finally tasted something, I could thoroughly imagine a Mexican grandmother cooking for me.

Enchilada Plate at Torito's

Torito's has a number of other goodies that I have yet to try which are also classically Mexican. They've got a fish ala veracruz. I have always wondered what authentic Mexican seafood dishes taste like, and I'm not referring to the fish tacos you get at Taco Del Mar. Veracruz is famous for being Mexico's seafood capitol. Torito's has tamales, which are sort of a Mexican version of joong, and equally as beloved by its constituents. I have never been a big fan of the masa (or corn meal) and corn husks that they use instead of rice and lotus leaf as in joong. But then that may be because I've simply never tasted the authentic homemade thing. They've also got huevos con chorizo (or a Mexican style eggs and sausage). It's also something I've never tried authentically, although I understand that good chorizo is not too different from good Portuguese sausage.

Salsa at Torito's

I don't know that I'll truly ever be able to distingush the truly authentic Mexican cuisine from the gringofied Tex Mex that is so pervasive around the country. While Torito's has their fair share of deep fried, sour cream, and jack cheese dishes, they also have things like tacos al pastor and mole, which may be as close as you can get in Hawaii. I don't know that they're truly authentic, but I do know that they taste really, really good.

Local Chinese Evolution

2010-01-03T03:48:00.003-10:00

When Anthony Bourdain came to Hawaii, one of the most authentically local things that was served to him, was a Chinese style onaga (local red snapper) stuffed with lup cheong (Chinese sausage). When I saw Lanai & Kaleo serve it to him, I was really excited because it's one of my favorite fish preparations and it is totally local. You really wouldn't really find this preparation in any other Chinese community in the world (especially not in China). But it reflects evolution of Chinese cuisine local to the Chinese in Hawaii.

Honey Walnut Shrimp at Golden Duck Restaurant

Mayonnaise is not, after all, a typically Chinese condoment. But you will typically find it at dim sum accompanying the deep fried shrimp dumplings. It is also the key to one of the most beloved Chinese dishes in Hawaii, honey walnut shrimp. The sweetness of the honey glaze and the creaminess of the mayonnaise works so well with the salty shrimp flavor. Of course what brings that dish alive are the little candied walnuts with their sweet, roasted crunch. It doesn't seem very Chinese at all, yet when you taste it, it still tastes very Chinese. The lup cheong and oyster sauce mayonnaise preparation that Bourdain tried, and which I made for New Year's Dinner, has a similar impact. But unlike the honey walnut shrimp, it's difficult to find in the restaurants. So here is my interpretation of the classic dish, so that you can try this at home kids.

So here's what you need:

Ingredients for My Lup Cheong & Oyster Sauce Mayonnaise Stuffed Salmon

A fish. In my case I used a big side of salmon, because I think this peparation works best with strong buttery flavor of salmon.
About half a bag of lup cheong (Chinese sausage)
Some doong gu (black shiitake mushrooms)
About half an onion
Some Mayonnaise
Some hau yau (oyster sauce)

So here's what you do:

Whenever working with doong gu or shiitake, the first thing you have to do is soak it to rehydrate them. I used about a big handful of dried mushrooms. You just have to eyeball how much will fit in your fish.

Slice your onion in half, and then slice up the half pretty thinnly. I would recommend about a 1-2 mm thickness. The reason for the thinness is because unlike sauteeing the onions, baking in them in the fish won't really cook them too much. It'll be just enough to take the sharpness of the onion sting out and convey the onion flavor to the rest of the stuffing, but they will still retain most of the their crunch. So a thin slice will better. I sliced up a whole onion, but I realized afterwards that only about half would fit in my fish.

Slice up your lup cheong. Unlike the big chunks I used in my lup cheong stuffing, I would again recommend using a thinner (slanted) slice. Like the onions, the thinner slices will both fit better in the fish and cook better in the relatively short cooking time. Also like the onions, as the lup cheong cooks the lup cheong flavor should be infused into the whole dish.

In a bowl mix up some mayonnaise and some oyster sauce. Notice the amounts I'm giving you? That's because this is where your personal interpretation and artistry should come in. I threw in about 3 spoons of mayo and a couple big dollops of oyster sauce. Keep tasting and mixing until you find the right balance for yourself. Remember oyster sauce can be very salty, but the creaminess of the mayo also cuts it. You've just got to figure out the right ratio.

Now you want to make a few incisions into the side of the fish. You do NOT want to cut all the way through, but only about half way through the fish. The cuts should be down the spine of the fish and outwards from the spine. The reason for this, is partly so the fish will absorb more flavor, but mainly so the fish can stretch more (ie. it will be easier to fold the filet in half).

Flip the fish over and lay it in the pan. The cut part will be on the outside of the fish, and the cut part will be on the inside (as you pick up the fish it will make more sense to you by how much easier it will be to fold thanks to those cuts). Layer in the lup cheong, the onions, and the mushrooms (be sure to drain off the water from the mushrooms first).

Now you can start slathering on that oyster sauce mayonnaise. Don't be afraid to use your hands to make sure everything fits in the fish and is evenly distributed (just be sure to wash them first).

Finally flip fold the top half over and wrap it around your stuffing (again don't be afraid to get your hands dirty). If you've got any of that oyster sauce mayonnaise leftover, you can brush it along the top of the fish to give it a nice glazing.

Pop your fish into the oven, and bake it for about 20 minutes at 350 degrees. Sounds pretty short doesn't it? But many fishes, especially salmon, taste better when they're more on the rare side. That's why sashimi and seared preparations are so popular. If you overcook a salmon, it will get very dry and tougher. It's better to err on the rare side than the overcooked side. Additionally, if you have any leftovers, this gives the fish a little more room for reheating.

It's pretty simple isn't it? The total time is only about 30 minutes (most of which is simply the baking time). Cooking doesn't necessarily have to be a long and arduous process. Often the tastiest dishes can be simple and fun to prepare.

Dreaming up simple and fun dishes is essential to keep my son interested in creating something in the kitchen. I remember how my Po Po used to make pie crust dough for my sister and I to play with, rather than playdough. Remembering the fun of having that soft squishy, cold dough in my hands, I figured my son would really enjoy rolling up his sardines in Pillsbury crescent dough to make his sardines en croute. My Po Po while letting us play, was secretly training us to have some skill in the kitchen.

When I called my son over from the TV to wash the rice for his other dish, my wife commented that when I said to "wash the rice", she said I sounded a lot like Mr. Miyagi. That somehow, if he does something simple as wash the rice, I was secretly training him in kung fu or giving him some magical powers that would just appear one day. Little does she know how right she really is, as dedication, passion, and perserverance are the heart of true kung fu.

Hauoli Makahiki Hou

2010-01-02T17:33:00.001-10:00

For many years, New Years dinner in my family was simply a repeat of Thanksgiving and Christmas. We tried to find ways to make it a little more distinguishable, but somehow didn't succeed too well. That isn't to say that it wasn't good, but with a big feast just one week prior, it was a little less special. I always wanted to have a goose instead of turkey for Christmas, as seen in all the old English stories, but while whole turkeys go on sale from Thanksgiving, finding a whole goose on island is nearly impossible and quite costly if you do. I remember when my mom would make a turkey for Christmas and a big crown roast for New Year's. Her crown roasts, were so succulent, and festive looking with the shiny foil atop each bone. But unfortunately, when less lucritive times hit after the 80's were done, mom's superstition kicked in saying that the crown roasts didn't bring in enough good luck for us and stopped making them.

So we continued to try to find a way to distinguish New Year's from Christmas, when my dad saw a special on an Italian American holiday tradition called, "The Feast of the Seven Fishes", where every dish at the meal is a seafood dish. As soon as he mentioned it, it was classic "eureka" moment for my family. For one thing, pretty much every member of my family is a big seafood fan, one of the few foods we all really agree upon. For another, it coincided with the Japanese tradition of sashimi that is so prevalent in the islands. It's also highly symbolic to the Chinese, as the word for "fish", yuu, is a homonym for the word for "abundance" (also yuu). So having a feast where each of us contributed one fish dish, seemed highly appropriate, and a fantastic way of welcoming in the new year that we've adhered to ever since.

My Mom's Lobster, Scallop and Shrimp Platter

As the matriarch of my family, my mom's dish is usually the centerpiece of our meal, even if it isn't a turkey or a crown roast. What she came up with this year was spectacularly mouth watering, in both appearance, aroma, and taste. Her preparation was actually quite simple, with some basic broiled lobster and seared scallops and shrimp. The cooking time, technique, and seasoning were all quite minimal, as she wanted the natural flavors of these highly prized seafood items to speak for themselves. However, everything was in her gorgeous presentation, which just screamed festive and abundance. Unfortunately, the lobster I had, had a horribly mushy texture almost like mashed potatoes. As my mom's preparation is typically flawless, I can only assume that she got a bad lobster from Costco. It was a little inauspicious for me, but as we had so much food, it really didn't matter. Conversely, her scallops and shrimp were both totally sweet and crisp.

My Mom's Oyster Sauce Asparagus & Mushrooms

My mom also felt that we needed to have some vegetation on the table. While not strictly a seafood dish, she did stir fry it with Chinese oyster sauce (hau yau). So it still retained some of that concentrated oyster flavor in the dish.

My Aunty's Chinese Style Braised Uhu

My aunty also went with a classical approach to seafood. In her case, probably the quintessential classic Chinese preparation for a whole fish, steamed with shoyu, green onions, and ginger. Just for fun she added some shiitake mushrooms to the mix as well, and instead of steaming, she kind of braised the fish, but it essentially tasted the same. The fish she picked was, a local Hawaiian uhu, or parrot fish (so named because of its beak-like mouth). This fish when done right, like my aunty did, has an especially smooth texture. Chinese refer to this ideal texture as waat (or "slippery"), and it is considered by the Chinese to be the most desired texture a fish can have. My aunty's was just perfect in this regard. Of course on an uhu, the best bite, the most waat part, are the cheeks and forehead.

My Lup Cheong & Oyster Sauce Mayonnaise Stuffed Salmon

My own contribution to this fish extraganza was a more modern, local Chinese, classic, a baked salmon stuffed with lup cheong and oyster sauce mayonnaise. This is the dish that when Anthony Bourdain tried it, he said he didn't even want to guess at its geneology, he only knew that it was good. Of course, its mixed up cultural heritage is so representative of what we're all about in the islands. My aunty had almost made a salmon as well, but luckily found out what I was doing and switched at the last minute. But what I especially liked was the contrast between my aunty's classical approach and my modern one. It was like you could taste the evolution of Chinese flavors in Hawaii, right on our table.

My Wife's Shake-n-Bake Catfish

My wife decided to go with another classic flavor for her fish, but one from the heart of Dixie. She made a Shake-n-Bake catfish. While Shake-n-Bake is usually done with chicken or pork, catfish is perhaps the favorite fish of the South, and the Southern style seasonings in Shake-n-Bake went perfectly with the catfish. The only problem was, after she baked it, it was nearly an hour before we got to eat (waiting for Mom and Aunty to finish their last minute preparations). So her normally crunchy Shake-n-Bake got soggy on the bottom. Unfortunately, since all fish dishes are very quick, and should be done right before serving, the timing on this meal was just terribly difficult. But while it lost its crunch, it lost none of its flavor, which was like eating Southern comfort.

My Uncle's Fishcake Stuffed Shiitake Mushrooms

Instead of making a dessert, like he usually does, my uncle opted to contribute a fish dish of his own In his case, he stuffed big black shiitake mushrooms with fish cake. I remember my Po Po making this dish ages ago, and it was like a reminder of times gone past for me. The texture difference between the fish cake and the mushroom was interesting, as they didn't totally blend nor did they totally contrast.

My Dad's Barbie's Special Tuna Salad

As this whole Feast of the Seven Fishes was his idea, even my dad likes to contribute something to this meal. Of course, his cooking ability is really limited to mixing and plating, kind of akin to what my 4-year old son can do. So he usually just arranges something pretty with canned fish and crackers. But this time he went all out, and looked up something from the Internet called Barbie's Tuna Salad, which he said had really excellent user reviews. However, he left out the ingredient which made the tuna salad really unique, the curry powder, as he was afraid that my son wouldn't be able to eat it. To me, this really took out the heart of what made Barbie's so unique and interesting to begin with. Without it, I think I preferred the tuna macaroni salad my son made last week more. Thankfully, he added some of that curry powder back in to spice up the leftovers, and the difference was like night and day.

My Son's Ikura & Konbu Basmati Rice

In keeping up with his training in the culinary arts, I again had my son wash and cook rice. This time, however, it wasn't as a sous chef for my dish, but to help him mix one of his own. My son adores ikura (salmon roe). Whenever we have sushi, the one thing he always wants to have is the ikura. At first, the connotation that all my little boy wanted to eat was caviar was a little disturbing. But apparently this isn't so uncommon, as we attended one of my friend's weddings, as they introduced the young ring bearer we found out that his favorite food is ikura as well. As much as he adores ikura, my wife loves konbu (the sweet salty sea kelp). It's probably from all the little toothpick samples we used to enjoy as kids from Shirokiya. So this New Year's, I decided that they should both have a treat, and pick up some trays of ikura and konbu from Daiei (Don Quixote). Then I let my son complete his dish by mixing it all together. The basmati rice we used was far less sticky than the white calrose you would normally use, but then this made it easier for him to mix well. Additionally, the fragrance of the basmati rice seemed to give more complexity to the relatively simple dish. Simple but a real treat for my family.

My Son's Sardines En Croute

While I was dreaming up things for my son to cook, I came up with something else that I thought it would be fun for him to make. Thinking back on the Italian roots of this meal, it dawned on me that sardines (which my wife also loves), would be something easy and tasty. But how to serve it? He could place it on crackers, but that would be a little too simplistic, even for him. Then I thought of "pigs-in-a-blanket", and it dawned on me that instead of vienna sausages, we could wrap the sardines in Pillbury cresent rolls. Just to add a little more Italian kick, and a little color, we decided to roll in some sun dried tomatoes as well. The result was like a miniature sardines en croute. My son actually had more fun rolling up his sardines, than mixing his rice, and the resulting little morsels were just delightful.

The only thing that seemed to be omitted from our fantastic seafood meal was sashimi or at least some local style poke, but with all that variety it really wasn't missed. What we really did miss was my sister, who had already gone back to the mainland. As much as we love and miss her, she's gotta have her own adventures without us cramping her style.

New Year's Dinner 2009

It is always really interesting to see the range of interpretations my family comes up with, even when focusing on a single ingredient like fish. It is a factor of both our great kapakahi heritage and the spectrum of our own personal styles. The other great thing is that we came up with a total of 9 dishes, and 9 (gau) is another homonym in Chinese for abundance and longevity. Although it's based on the feast of the 7 fishes, having 9 dishes was even more auspicious for us, and hopefully will be reflective of the upcoming year.

SushiFest - Part V: The Supreme Sashimi

2010-01-01T12:39:00.000-10:00

New Year's is upon us, and we have finally arrived in the what for my generation has always been, "The Future!"   It is the year 2010.   When we all live in the sky in apartments that are so far above the ground you never see it. When we all drive flying cars, which run on garbage in our Mr. Fusion. When we frequently take vacations on the moon at Luna Park. Wait. What do you mean we don't have any of those things yet?   Are you saying television lied to me?? Dang it! Then again, my flip top cell phone looks remarkably like Captain Kirk's communicator (and when my wife has her bluetooth earpiece in I'm constantly reminded of Uhura), the automatic sliding doors at Ala Moana cound certainly pass for the ones on the Enterprise, and my tablet PC looks bears a striking resembalance to the padd that Yeoman Rand carried.   So we're getting there, we're getting there.

Meanwhile, I guess we'll just celebrate New Year's the old fashioned way.   In Hawaii of course, that means a literal ton of fireworks.   Having so many Chinese families in Hawaii, you just have to have a 20,000 string of firecrackers to scare off the bad spirits, with little bits of red paper all over your driveway to welcome in the blessings of the new year. I was always particularly fond of those little ground blooms, that spin and look like red, yellow or green ladybugs. These days, fountains have gotten so complex, that they look like a little fireworks show in your driveway.   But I have never had any lack of a fireworks show. Where I live, somehow every other family in the valley has gotten their hands on illegal aerials. I really don't know where they get them from. All I know is that, despite the illegality of it, you simply cannot stop the firmly entrenched tradition of it. This is something I'm glad about, because from my parents' house, you can see practically the entire valley. Every New Year's, we're treated to the most spectacular aerial fireworks show around, all at around eye level for us, just about 180 degrees all around us. It's absolutely amazing.   Of course the smoke is also amazing. It's as thick as San Francisco fog, and the thundering booms mirror that of a warzone. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

However, while the rest of the country is singing Auld Lang Syne, and are focused on the crystal ball dropping in Time's Square, New Year's in Hawaii has always been more of a Japanese holiday than an American one.   In fact, aside of Obon, it is probably the biggest Japanese holiday of them all. Rather than religiously watching Dick Clark's countdown, the Red and White song competition (also called Kohau Uta Gassen) has always been a yearly tradition in my family.   While most anime fans are familiar with J-Pop music, it is the Red and White competition that fostered my love of enka style music. My favorite was always Saburo Kitajima (famous for playing the Chief of the Megumi Fire Brigade on Abarenbo Shogun). His crooning is as unique and unmistakable as Sinatra, and to me it just isn't New Year's without hearing it.

Practically every other door is adorned with a kadomatsu (or a bamboo & pine arrangement). Like the firecrackers to the Chinese, the kadomatsu to the Japanese is a way of warding off evil spirits and welcoming in the blessings of the new year.   Besides the traditional decoration at our doorstep, many businesses and homes are scrubbed spotless, and all debts paid, to start the New Year clean.   Thankfully, being Chinese, like getting an extension on your income taxes, we get a reprieve from all that cleaning until Chinese New Year, about a month later.   But perhaps nothing is more iconic of New Year, than a stack of mochi with an orange on top.

Mochi Variety from Kansai Yamato

Mochi is essential to the Japanese for New Year's. Just like gao for Chinese New Year, the stickiness of the mochi is meant to symbolically bind the family together for the New Year. Back in high school, I actually got to try pounding the mochi myself (in tandem with a partner of course). Swinging that giant hammer over your head is worthy of Looney Tunes, but it's much heavier than it looks. I would just as soon leave it up to the experts. In Hawaii, that usually means picking up a pack of Hawaii Candy from Longs. But we also have a true mochi specialist, right in the Makai Market food court at Ala Moana, called Kansai Yamato. Just like Mana Bu's who makes nothing but musubi, Kansai Yamato makes nothing but mochi. This fanatical dedication to making one, and only one product, naturally yields nothing less than absolute mastery and perfection in their craft. The mochi at Kansai Yamato, is simply the perfect texture. Soft and sticky, and nothing like the hard, chewy, dried up nonsense you can pick up at some places. Their variety pack even has flavors that you wouldn't even find in Japan. Besides the traditional an dango (the white with azuki bean filling) and kinako an (the shoyu brown one), you can get brilliant local flavors and colors like cruncy peanut butter, mango, melona, and guava. Each one is distinctly local tasting and different from each other, but all of them are just mouth watering.

Besides mochi, the other crucial thing you must have at New Year's is of course sashimi. Fresh fish is so important to the New Year's celebration that a quarter of the island seems to pack itself into tiny little Tamashiro Market on New Year's Eve. Not only is everyone frantic to get a piece of fish, they're willing to pay several hundred dollars a pound for the really premium quality fish. I wouldn't be surprised if Tamashiro makes half its dividends on New Year's alone. Of course, once you get it home, you really must know how to cut the fish properly too. This is a precision task that takes years to master, so if you're not up to the task, I would recommend finding a sushi chef that really knows his stuff. My very favorite sushi place, would have to be Yanagi Sushi, at the downtown end of Kapiolani.

Family Roll at Yanagi Sushi

If you my wife, she will tell you that sushi may be my all time favorite food. I'm completely addicted to it. In my quest for the perfect sushi, I've found innovative makimono rolls, battleship shaped gunkan passing by on the conveyor belt, perfect bowls of poke, ingenius temaki hand rolls with supremely crunchy nori, and the master sushi chefs that serve you with an obsession for the perfect bite. But when it all comes down to it, Yanagi Sushi is the one place that I would consider my absolute favorite sushi restaurant. On my birthday, it usually tops my short list of places I want to go. I'm definitely not alone in this regard, either. When you walk in to this unassuming little restaurant, the walls are lined with the most photographs of patrons I've ever seen adorn a restaurant, many of them big celebrities.

Sashimi Deluxe at Yanagi Sushi

While Yanagi makes some fantastic sushi rolls, it is actually not the sushi (which by definition requires the sweet vinegar rice), but the sashimi that is my favorite thing there. Their Sashimi Deluxe platter may be one of my favorite meals in the whole world. Every item is super fresh, premium quality, and masterfully cut to bring out its own magnificent natural flavor. The oyster is plump and briney, with a full intense oyster flavor. Every piece of ikura (salmon roe) is bursting crisp little sphere, none of which are dry or shrivelled. The ika (squid) is crisp and clean, and doesn't have that slimey pastey film that bad quality ika has. The ebi (shrimp) is blanched so fast that it has an ever so slight crispness, while retaining all of it's raw natural sweetness. I especially love the piece of shiso, which has such an intoxicating perfumey fragrance, that perfectly complements the flavor of the fish. I would rather have shiso than wasabi any day. But what makes this platter so perfect, is how well they do the core triumvirate of sashimi, the ahi, hamachi, and salmon. All 3 of these incredibly buttery. The natural fat and fish oils in each piece of fish makes it so rich and flavorful. Eaten with a nice hot bowl of steaming, slighly sticky, plump, calrose rice, the fish flavor just melts like butter on hot bread. The ahi, salmon, and hamachi each has its own distinct flavor, and I adore each one. Despite how elite and prestigious the sushi at Sushi Sasabune is, I think that the flavor of the fish at Yanagi even surpasses it. The shrimp is sweeter and the flavor of the hamachi is much stronger. Besides that the atmosphere is a lot more relaxed and unpretentious, and the price is much more affordable, so the overall experience is just far more enjoyable.

Even though my family isn't Japanese, in Hawaii each of our cultures has become so integrated with our super-culture, that we just couldn't welcome in the new year without all the Japanese elements. It is tradition that I look forward to enjoying year after year for decades to come.

SushiFest - Part IV: A Matter of Convenience

2009-12-31T03:00:00.001-10:00

After the surprising upset that 7-Eleven enjoyed during my Char Siu Bao Challenge, I thought we should take a closer look at the unseeming little convenience store. Actually, I do like taking mainland visitors to 7-Eleven. The mere fact that they have char siu bao to begin with, is a prime indicator that the 7-Elevens in Hawaii are not anything like their somewhat ghetto counterparts on the mainland. In fact, from what I understand, our 7-Elevens are run much more like the 7-Elevens in Japan than the ones on the mainland. This would explain the surprisingly high quality Japanese (and local) convenience store snacks you can easily find at 7-Eleven, including our iconic spam musubi.

Spam Musubi from 7-Eleven

When visitors come from the mainland, I love taking them to 7-Eleven, just to unhinge their notion of what a convenience store can be. Ours are clean, well stocked, and not the magnet for muggings and robberies that the ones on the mainland are. Instead of ancient hot dogs that have been rotating on their warmers for and inestimable amount of time, the products we have are usually made fresh that day, with a timestamp to prove it. Sure there are familiar favorites, like Slurpees. But there is a wide variety of dim sum, musubi's, sushi, and crack seed. The best part of course is being able to get any of these items, at any time of the day. When hanging out with my friend Erich in college, we would often make 1AM Jones Soda runs, frequently in remote parts of the island, just to enjoy our availability to do so.

Admittedly, I love a Slurpee as much as the next guy. In fact, when I was little, I generally liked Slurpees better than Icees. As great, as a strawberry / coke mixed icee was, the air to liquid ratio in an icee always yielded a product that was just a little too insubstantive for my taste. By that reasoning, I always preferred the slushies over at the Jolly Roger in Kahala (where Kahala Zippy's is now), to either Slurpees or Icees, especially the grape slush floats. Mixing the vanilla ice cream with purple slushie created a beautifully thick lavendar drink that was as creamy as it was icy, and the blending of those textures was always so provocotive to me. However, since Jolly Roger closed many years ago, the Slurpee is a worthwhile replacement. Indeed, the there have existed many more flavors of Slurpee than any of the others, including lychee, pina colada, and banana.

Okinawan Sweet Potato Manapua from 7-Eleven

What makes our 7-Elevens so interesting however, is not the Slurpee that can be found anywhere, but the plethora of local food they serve. I've discussed how a spam and egg musubi make a terrific breakfast on the run. Their redondo's hot dog musubi and lup cheong manapua are far more local representations of the hot dog than a Big Bite. In fact, in addition to the basic manapua, which was surprisingly well received by the manapua taste testers at my mom's office, they've got a wide assortment of manapua fillings. My wife is particularly fond of the somewhat elusive, Okinawan sweet potoato manapua, with it's sweet, creamy, purple filling that has just the perfect smooth texture. But the one local snack item that 7-eleven does particularly well, is their sushi hand rolls.

Sushi from 7-Eleven

Surprisingly, I like the sushi hand rolls at 7-Eleven better than just about any temaki sushi, at even the most exclusive sushi restaurants. Just what makes them so good? It's the rather ingenious way of wrapping the rice and the nori separately while it is sitting in their refrigerated display. Like the McDLT, which was famous for keeping the "hot side hot and the cold side cold", keeping the rice and nori separate insures that the nori stays crispy. Let's face it, from the moment the sushi chef touches the nori to the rice, it begins to get soggy. It depreciates even faster than a brand new car. But this is brilliantly minimized by the sushi wrapping system at 7-Eleven.

Unwrapping Sushi from 7-Eleven

To open a sushi from 7-Eleven, you first break the seal on the side. Then unroll the nori, exposing the rice which is wrapped in the inner cellophane. Then, you peel back the inner cellophane to expose the nori envelope. Finally, you roll the rice yourself into the waiting nori, and lift it off of the outer cellophane. Whoever designed this system was a packaging genius. The very first bite into the handroll, as your teeth puncture the nori and sink into the rice below, is almost like having your friend hold up a sheet of paper while you punch holes through it with your fingers. It yields the most incredibly satisfying crunch, that no other sushi has anywhere. The only thing I have to worry about is my cats, who are adore the nori even more than I do. From the moment I break the seal on the outer cellophane, they appear out of nowhere and instantly shove their faces into mine, hoping for a bite.

Sushi from 7-Eleven

The rice is also nothing like what you'd expect from a convenience store sushi. Sitting in a refrigeration unit all day, you'd expect the rice to get cold and hard. But somehow, the units are at exactly the right temperature, that while the rice is chilled, it never gets hard. It is still perfectly soft rice (softer than some room temperature rice at other sushi restaurants I know of), with just a subtle hint of the sushi vinegar (not nearly as overpoweringly sour as other sushi restaurants I know of). With good rice and good nori, the sushi is just superb.

Sushi from 7-Eleven

7-Eleven also has a great variety hand rolls to choose from. My favorite is their classic tuna salad with cucumber. I would rather have this than any tuna sandwich any day. They also have a nice salmon salad and a crab & avocado California roll that comprise their core line-up. However, in addition to their regular triumvirate, I have seen flavors like shoyu tuna, spicy tuna, konbu, kalbi, bbq chicken, wasabi tuna, and many other special, transient offerings.

Ito En Oi Ocha Green Tea from 7-Eleven

Of course to wash down all of this sushi, a Slurpee just wouldn't do. But again, 7-Eleven offers up an appropriate accompaniment. They have a wide assortment of the yummy drinks from Ito En. The different local fruit flavors of Ito En's Aloha Maid, like guava and passion orange, are classic island favorites. You wouldn't even want to drink a Starbucks's Frappuccino bottle after tasting Ito En's Royal Mills Iced Cappuccino. There's not even a comparison, the Iced Capps knock the Frapps completely out of the ballpark. But to accompany the yummy sushi, it's got to be Ito En's Oi Ocha green tea. Although, it's available at 7-Eleven, I have to buy their green tea by the caseload from Costco. It has such a nice, perfectly balanced roasted tea flavor that is just so refreshing and easy to drink when chilled, I go through it like water.

Sushi from 7-Eleven

7-Elevens in Hawaii really are a unexpected find when it comes to local food. What you'd think is a matter of convenience, really becomes a matter of local pride.

A Big Fish Story

2009-12-30T01:28:00.000-10:00

Being surrounded by the Pacific Ocean, it's no wonder that fishing and seafood is a big part of our culture.   Even if you aren't a big angler, you probably enjoy a good fresh catch.  For many decades, one of the most popular shows on TV was "Let's Go Fishing".    Not only did good ol Hari Kojima catch the fish, but he also taught you the best ways to prepare it as well.   To this day, I can still hear the catchy "Let's Go Fishing" tune in my head, and I can fondly remember Hari standing behind his guest chefs with his hands folded behind his back, blinking almost unnaturally frequently.  As Hari (and the show) got older, Ben Wong took over the reigns, and it was renamed "LGF" and later "Hawaii Goes Fishing", but the show was never the same.  It's long lived popularity though, was a testament to how much we love fish in Hawaii.

There are a few exceptions of course. My Po Po, for example, just couldn't stand the smell of fish. To her, fish was just too sang (a Chinese word that means overly "fishy" smellling, something fresh fish should never be). She would have to cook it practically every night for my Goong Goong, but she never ate it herself.   Once when she was was a little girl, she caught a nasty cold.   Naturally, her father (my Tai Goong), went and spent a good amount of money and made her some fish jook. She told him that she couldn't eat it, and he called her ungrateful. So she tried to eat it, and wound up throwing it all up anyway. So my Po Po pretty much avoided fish all her life. But she is one of the few exceptions to the rule around here.

Everyone in Hawaii has to have at least one good fishing story right?   So, here's mine. I love seafood, but I never learned how to fish while I was growing up. So one day, when she was home on vacation, my sister-in-law decided to take us deep sea fishing. Not knowing much about fishing myself, I imagined us gently rocking in the middle of some calm deep blue waters, lazily lounging with our hats over our eyes waiting for a fish to bite.   Yeah, that's not what happened at all.   Deep sea fishing basically involves high speed trolling with almost roller coaster like up and down motion.   From the moment I left the pier, I was throwing up into a bucket, and spent pretty much the duration of the trip flat on my back, moaning for it to end.   My wife on the other hand, found her sea legs after a little while and was up and about on deck waiting to snag a fish. In fact, she successfully reeled in 2 1/2 fish!   Now this is where you scratch your head and ask, "how do you catch a half a fish??"  Shouldn't fish necessarily be caught in whole number increments? Well, as she was pulling the fish in, a big shark came up and bit off the lower half of the fish, leaving her to reel in the upper half of the fish. I've got friends who love fishing (one in particular has even caught a 500 lb. marlin). But none of them can make the claim that they've caught 2 1/2 fish.   So although it's really my wife's catch, I was along for the adventure, and am happy to bask in her fishing glory.

For those of us, who love fish, but really can't stomach trying to catch one ourselves (literally), where do we go to get the best fish on island?    Well, Tamashiro Market is of course the de facto place for any kind of seafood here.   Even Hari Kojima himself, was originally a fish cutter with Tamashiro. For a while, Tamashiro would even cook them up for you, offering some fresh fish lunch plates.   Unfortunately, the window of opportunity to buy one was very short, and I've never gotten to taste them myself.   I have mentioned how well the fish is prepared at Kaka'ako Kitchen, but as those dishes are salmon and catfish, they don't really reflect what's in our local waters.   The ahi katsu at Sugoi is just plain awesome, but being covered in brown gravy makes you kind of lose sight of the fish itself.   The biggest filets of the freshest ahi and freshest mahi mahi on island can be found at Ray's Cafe.   My only complaint with Ray's is that, although the fish quality and fresheness is just supreme and you can taste the flavors of the fish itself, it's not quite seasoned enough with any other flavors.  For the freshest, best prepared fish in town, that is also seasoned well to bring out the fish flavor, you need to look for a specialist. Basically the shop that serves fish and little else.   The one that immediately comes to mind is Nico's at Pier 38.

Nico's has all the visible indicators of a great fish place.   For one thing, it's located right on Pier 38, overlooking the water.   The close proximity to the water gives it not only wonderful ambiance, but the feeling of authenticity when it comes to fish.   Adding to that authenticity is the fact that they share a building with Pop Fishing & Marine, a major commercial fishing outfitter. It gives you the distinct impression that the major fishermen, get their supplies from Pop, head out to sea to catch the fish, and bring it right back to Nico's to be served. Finally, the lunchtime crowd around Nico's is always so packed, that they have to give you those little vibrating pagers to let you know when your food is ready. All of which leads to high expectations about the food.

Furikake Crusted Seared Ahi from Nico's at Pier 38

The food at Nico's is just superb. For one thing, they are one of the few plate lunch places, like Kaka'ako Kitchen, where I actually prefer getting the green salad rather than a mac salad. It is partly due to their zesty lemon miso dressing, but it's primarily because you get a nice serving of Waimanalo greens, and not some dinky iceberg lettuce. But the star attraction of course is the fish. The classic furikake crusted, seared ahi is definitely my favorite dish there. The fish is as local, fresh, and high quality as Ray's, and it is as well prepared as Kaka'ako Kitchen's. I really can't give it any higher praise than that. The ahi is just perfectly seared, not overcooked like in some places which makes it dry and tough, and almost like canned tuna. This is still moist and tender, with a very generous coating of furikake. Add to that a wonderfully creamy, garlic aioli, that really compliments the flavor of the fish. My only complaint would be that the portions you get don't compare at all to Ray's (notice how you only get 1 scoop of rice and not 2). But it's worth it for one of the most perfect fish lunches on island.

Nothing compares to the satisfaction of hauling in your own fish, but if you're in a pinch for lunch and are craving fish, Nico's is the place to go. Just tasting the fish there, gives you the feeling of being out on the water, a perfect escape in the middle of a long work day.

Stuffed to the Gills

2009-12-28T00:28:00.001-10:00

As my Christmas gift to you, I thought I'd throw up my "recipe" for the Chinese style lup cheong stuffing that I concocted. Technically, this is a dressing and not a stuffing, because it never actually gets "stuffed" inside of the turkey. However, if you call it a "dressing", people immediately think of salad dressing, and thanks to Stove Top the word "stuffing" has become standard nomenclature. It's a pretty simple recipe, which was good, seeing as how my Christmas day was busy enough, and I needed something easy enough to put together between opening presents and visiting relatives.

Stuffed Duck from Golden Duck Restaurant

The classic approach to Chinese stuffing is seen in Cantonese stuffed duck. The stuffing consists of barley, minced mushrooms, ginkgo nuts, and occasionally some water chestnut. It's a very earthy mixture. The only thing is that I don't really care for barley. I adore the duck that surrounds the stuffing, it is perhaps the most tender duck preparation of them all. And the skin. The skin is just melt in your mouth to die for. The most buttery, outrageously soft skin anywhere. But I just don't care for the stuffing inside of that duck, mainly because I just don't like the texture of barley. So I came up with my own recipe for Chinese stuffing based on an entirely different Chinese flavor set, lup cheong (or Chinese smoked sausage) and hau yau choi sum (oyster sauce choi sum).

So here is what you'll need:

Ingredients for my Chinese Style Lup Cheong Stuffing

1 package of lup cheong (or Chinese smoked sausage) - Don't buy the brand from Costco, it tastes funny
2 bundles of fresh choi sum - It may seem a lot, but remember vegetables shrink a lot when you cook them
1 bag of unseasoned bread crumbs or stuffing mix
1 can of sliced ma tai (or water chestnuts)
some doong gu (black shiitake mushrooms)
some ha mai (the little dried shrimp)
some hau yau (oyster sauce)
some shoyu
and 1 can of chicken broth

Here's the prep:

Soak the dried doong gu in water. You pretty much always have to do this when cooking with doong gu, in order to rehydrate them. The water itself is pretty useful too, as it will contain all the flavor of the mushrooms.

Slice up the lup cheong into little 1/2 finger digit pieces. If you want your stuffing chunkier you can make them a little larger.

Slice up the choi sum in the same lengths as the lup cheong.

Here's what you do:

First fry up the lup cheong. Ideally, you want to use a non-stick pot, because then you can just toss them in without any additional oil. The oil from the lup cheong itself will come out, and you can use that to saute the rest of your ingredients. You don't need to use really high heat either, around 75% heat will do. Now, you really want to pay attention here. Because it was Christmas and I was so rushed, and I wanted to take pictures to put up here, I wasn't watching the pot like I should have been. You need to keep stirring this dish, otherwise things start to burn. So my lup cheong got a little charred. It wasn't so much that you could taste the burn, but it was more black than I wanted it to be You really just want a nice dark red color, just as it begins to char.

When the lup cheong is ready. Turn the heat down to about 50%. You can throw in your ha mai and your waterchestnuts. Drain off most of the water, and you can throw in your mushrooms as well. Pour in the shoyu and oyster sauce to taste. Be careful when putting in that oyster sauce. It's very strong stuff, and if you put too much of it in, your stuffing will come out pretty salty. Stir this around for a few moments to let it saute together.

After a few moments of cohesion, toss in all of your choi sum. The 2 bundles is going to seem like an awful lot, and will probably fill the pot to the brim. But keep in mind that vegetables seriously shrink when you cook them. So just stir everything around for a while, and very soon your vegetables will be on par with everything else.

Now turn down the heat again to about 30% and cover the mixture with your chicken broth. 1 can ought to be enough to just cover all of the ingredients. If it isn't you can add more, but remember, if you add too much your stuffing will be too soggy.

Finally, add about half the bag of stuffing mix. That should be just about the right ratio of breadding to stuff. If it seems too salty for you, you can always add more bread, but if it seems to bland, there really isn't any way to take the extra breadding out. So add it in small increments until the ratio looks right. Keep mixing until you've got a nice stuffing consistency. Then turn the heat down to about 10%, and cover and let it simmer for a few moments. This makes everything meld together into a cohesive mixture.

Congratulations, you've just made Chinese Lup Cheong Stuffing!

Cooking is fun isn't it? My mom said told me she is often surprised that in Chinese families, it is the men who are the better cooks. That's because Chinese men really like to eat, so they have a passion for cooking and creating something that tastes good. It is a passion that I want to instill into my boys. That's pretty much how it panned out at Christmas, when I helped my first son make his first tuna macaroni salad. He entusiastically gobbled down his own creation with pride and joy.

Mele Kalikimaka

2009-12-27T06:00:00.000-10:00

The Chistmas holiday is always jam packed for us. It really begins on Christmas Eve. Other children can't wait for Christmas morning to rush down to the Christmas tree and tear into their presents. But when I was really little, my parents would let me wait up until midnight on Christmas Eve, and then open all of my presents. This was a holdover from my dad's childhood, because when he was little and times were tougher his parents worked at their business, Goo Laundry, every single day of the year, Christmas included. So he would have to open his presents at night rather than in the morning. As a result, I never really had to wait for Santa, because on the stroke of midnight, I would have my presents in hand already. Christmas Day was then spent, first at my mom's side for lunch with more presents, and then at dinner with my dad's side and more presents still. It was a really hectic schedule, and as I grew older, we eventually conslidated everything to Christmas night (which meant that we now opened presents later than everyone else who did Christmas morning). When I got married, things changed again, and when I had kids things changed yet again. I think it's something that every young couple in Hawaii faces, simply because whereas on the mainland going home to family means travelling to different cities, in Hawaii its a matter of a 15 minute drive and you've got to juggle both sides of your family.

My Strawberry Sugar Free Jello Christmas Cookies

This year, Christmas Eve was thankfully quite peaceful. After an early dinner with my wife's family at Golden Duck, and checking on Santa's status via NORAD, we were able to tuck our kids in to bed and have a quiet night for just the two of us. We turned off all the lights except for the Christmas lights and settle in to snuggle and wait for Santa. But in waiting for Santa, it dawned on me that we didn't have any cookies for him (or ourselves). In years past, I would really enjoy the ready to bake sugar free cookies from Pillsbury, but recently I haven't been able to find them in any of the stores. I'm not even sure that Pillsbury still makes the sugar free ones. So I had to settle for a sugar free recipe from the Internet. Unfortunately, while I may be a pretty decent cook, baking is a complete mystery to me. It may be because cooking to me is all about improvisation and artistic interpretation, whereas baking requires rigid adherence to a set recipe. My wife is a far better baker than I am, and my feeble attempt at baking cookings was both laughable and nigh unedible. They had a bizarre doughy center, that resembled sticky mochi within stale bread. My wife likened them to something Dr. Seuss would've cooked up. But at least they smelled good, filling the house with a comforting strawberry baking smell. So we had cookies and some sugar free hot chocolate. We put on a little fireside music from Hapa. And we settled in under the Christmas tree to open our presents to each other. It was so very romantic. Let me tell you, a lit Christmas tree on Christmas Eve is so much better than mistletoe (which is usually infested with nargles anyway).

Christmas day was another story. For me, the stroke of midnight on Christmas Eve meant tearing into my presents, but in my wife's childhood it meant attending Midnight Mass. Since the advent of our children however, Christmas morning mass has been much easier. So we all got up (way too early for me), to head off to church like good little sheep. Then we went over to her parents house to open presents there. Following which, we had lunch at Tsukiji Fish Market (which was packed to the brim with people). Then we came home and let our kids open our own presents to them. After which, I just crashed for an hour or so (which was bad because my wife really need the sleep even more than I did). Only to wake up just in time to cook our dishes for dinner, before heading up to my parents house for Christmas dinner and opening even more presents. It's a frankly a little exhausting, a little overhwelming, and by the end you're running on nothing but pure adrenaline. But then again, it's Christmas, and if your biggest problem is how to cram in time with all the people that love you, you're in pretty good shape. In the end, you're left with nothing but a a feeling of joy, love, and happiness.

Our Christmas Feast 2009

Christmas dinner in my family, is essentially Thanksgiving dinner, Part II. Like Thanksgiving, each of us cooks something to bring to the table. In order to try to not repeat ourselves, we attempt to bring something a little more seasonal to the table. It's usually winds up being all kapakine, but at least it gives us a big variety of styles and given the expertise in the kitchen my family has, it's always scrumptious.

My Mom's Turkey

In the past, my mom has made honey glazed hams or some beautiful crown roasts to differentiate Christmas from Thanksgiving. But since my sister moved to the mainland, and hasn't been home for Thanksgiving, we've been having turkey again at Christmas, just so she has a chance to enjoy it as well. None of us ever complain about it, because my mom's turkey is simply the best in the world. While other turkeys can easily get dry and tough, my mom's is always supremely succulent and flavorful. And of course, it gives me a second chance to enjoy my precious turkey tail. Besides, as Mel Torme sang "A turkey and some mistletoe help to make the season bright."

My Mom's Christmas Bun Wreath

To add a more Christmasy element to her contributions, my mom also baked a festive Christmas wreath of buns. They were nice and herby, and as visually appealing as they were tasty.

My Chinese Style Lup Cheong Stuffing

Since I knew my mom was making turkey, I decided to make stuffing, but not just any stuffing. I decided to give it a local spin, and make a Chinese style, lup cheong stuffing. For one thing, I figured that the red and green of the lup cheong and the choi sum would make it a little bit more visually festive than the usual Thanksgiving-esque earthtones of regular stuffing. Besides that, you gotta cook to your audience, and naturally my family really enjoyed the Chinese flavors. For me, the contrast of the strong Chinese flavors like lup cheong, ha mai, and hau yau (oyster sauce), against the traditional Americana of the turkey and mashed potatoes, is in minature what our lifestyle is all about.

My Sister's Chiles en Nogada

My sister, being home from the mainland, brought to the table some new (and frankly quite foreign) flavors with her Chiles en Nogada, a Puebla dish that she learned from the SF Gate. Like me, she chose the dish because of the green and red colors of the chiles and the pomegranate seeds (which really were strikingly beautiful). However, unlike mine which was filled with familiar comforting flavors, hers was an excursion into some vastly unfamiliar territory. The pork tenderloin was quite tasty with a Mexican spiced crema sauce to it. Like how you usually see pork chops served with applesauce, her cubes of pork were offset by cubes of Korean pear. But whereas the Korean pear is sweet familiar flavor, the pomegranate seeds on top are certianly not. All of which were kicked up with the spiciness of the chiles. It was my first time ever trying fresh pomegranate seeds, whose bright red colors are so vividly alluring. They are sweet, but with a bit of a bitterness to them as well, and I frankly don't care for the hard seeds within. In fact, whereas in my dish everything kind of softens and converges in texture, hers was a complete rocky road of pork cubes, pear cubes, and hard little pomegranate seeds. It was tasty and brilliantly executed, but at the same time underscored the different person she's become and a reminder of how we've grown apart since she's been gone. It's something I try very hard to get used to, and I really try to get to know the person she is now, but it isn't always easy.

My Wife's Cauliflower Medley Casserole

While my sister and I are quite different the way we were when we were kids, my wife and I seem to grow more like each other over time, the way that all married couples take on each other's traits. This Christmas, she walked in to Foodland, not having any idea what to cook, and just looked around to listen to the food for inspiriation. For someone who rigidly sticks to the recipes, this was something that just put a smile on my face. What she saw, were all different colors of cauliflower; orange, purple, green brocoflower, and the original white. So it dawned on her to make a classic casserole out of all of these different colored cauliflowers. It was at once beautiful, tasty, and inspired. Of course the whole day, she was worried that it would be a lame dish, after all it was "only cauliflower". But as I expected, everyone loved it. My uncle even said that he could discern the slightly different flavors of each different color (some being more bitter than others). I'm not sure if this was a trick of the mind or not, but it was creamy, cheesy, and delicious.

My Aunty's Mashed Potatoes with Potato Skins

My aunty of course made her awesome traditional mashed potatoes. This time, she opted for a little bit of cream of mushroom in it just to give it an even more creamy texture and just the hint of mushroom flavor. It was just a little so as not to overpower the awesome potatoey goodness of real potatoes. This time, she also decided to remove the potato skins instead of mixing them in as I usually request. But she baked them separately, giving them a fantastic crispiness, akin to that of stomping on dried leaves. They were a fantastic contrast in texture and color as garnish, with even more potatoey goodness to add.

My Aunty's Stuffed Mushrooms

Aunty also decided to thow in a few stuffed mushrooms. With mushrooms and potatoes, she was basically catering to my wife with her favorite foods. The mushrooms were plump and mouthwateringly juicy, and a perfect little side dish.

My Son's Tuna Macaroni Salad

Finally, to indoctrinate our traditions into my son, as well as to pass on my passion for cooking (and to keep him busy while I was trying to cook my dish), we again tried to bring him into the kitchen for his own contribution. Of course, being only 4 years old, we were limited as to what would be safe for him, keep his attention, and not overstretch his abilities. So I thought back to my own beginnings as a cook, and pulledout a Hawaiian classic, macaroni salad. As it basically just involves a lot of mixing, it was perfect for him. He just sat there mixing, while I helped him throw in some macaroni, mayonnaise, tuna, peas, a touch of pepper and a little relish. The result was a dish that he could proudly call his own, and that the family could gush over in front of him. He actually enjoyed eating it as much as he did making it, having 3 big servings, before rushing off to tear into his presents.

My Uncle's Okinawan Sweet Potato Pie

To top it all off, my uncle, made a fantastic Okinawan sweet potato pie. Somehow the texture of the purple Okinawan sweet potato was a little better to me than the regular (orange) sweet potato pie he made for Thanksgiving. The consistency was a little firmer and a little more even, while the filling he made for Thanksgiving was slightly on the mushy side for my taste. Besides the even texture, the purple of the Okinawan sweet potato is always such a beautiful, striking color to me. It was the perfect way to top of the evening, after opening all of those presents and putting some exhausted babies to sleep.

Christmas may be plain exhausting and a little unduly stressful, but it also means family, and food, and a literal feast for every single one of your senses. It always fills me with an inescapable sense of magic and wonder and excitement that I thoroughly enjoy sharing with my boys and the rest of my family.

SushiFest - Part III : Trust Me

2009-12-25T03:49:00.001-10:00

My sister came home for Christmas, and this year we decided to treat ourselves to a very special dinner, to spend some brother/sister quality time together. I have read many, many sources saying that simply the best sushi on the island, is at Sushi Sasabune. Period. In fact, people just won't take you for a serious sushi afficionado unless you've been there. But I've also heard that it was extremely pricey. As it is the true sushi. The gourmet sushi. The sushi equivalent of buying the highest grade beluga caviar (at several hundreds of dollars an ounce, vs. the kind of caviar you can get from $15/jar at Foodland). So it is one of those, once in a lifetime experiences, that you simply must try. As a serious foodie, my sister is pretty much the only person I know who would appreciate and enjoy this level of sushi as much as myself. So this year, we finally decided to give it a try, and I was very, very, excited about going.

I have heard many things about Sushi Sasabune. For one thing, I've heard that the sushi chefs there are ridiculously strict about how to eat their sushi.   Sushi must not be cut in half (Cutting the sushi in half, is like cutting a boat in half. The boat will sink.) Each piece must be eaten in one bite.   Sushi should not be dipped in shoyu, unless allowed to do so by the chef.   Dipping the sushi from the rice side, is a no no (as the rice will absorb too much of the shoyu and fall apart).   Dipping the fish side only is difficult.   The proper technique is to use the pickled ginger to dip in the shoyu and brush it over the sushi. Even when I called, the host wanted to make certain that I understood, "We serve only sushi. We don't serve Japanese food.   We don't serve California rolls." These rules have given Sushi Sasabune an image similar to that of the infamous Soup Nazi from Seinfeld.

The strict enforcement of these rules intimidates many people from wanting to try the experience.   But somehow this doesn't bother me at all. For one thing, even in Western culture we've got rules about etiquette that we follow in a fine dining environment.   You're not supposed to put your elbows on the table. You're supposed to use the right fork for the right course. You're not supposed to talk with your mouth full, or open your mouth while chewing.   We don't complain about these rules because we've grown up with them. The Japanese rules of sushi etiquette just take a little learning beforehand, and you will have the same level of comfort.   But besides that, I understand that when I cook a dish, many times I want my audience to eat it in a certain way, just so that I know that it tastes the way that I am trying to present it to people.   If, for example, they add a lot of shoyu (or any other condiments for that matter), it will be saltier than I had intended. After spending a lot of time trying to find the right balance of seasonings and flavors, I don't want people to distrupt the flavors I'm trying to present. Some people may think that enjoying food should be adjusted as a matter of personal preference, but then it's not what I, as the chef, have created.  You don't go up to the Mona Lisa and add a little flower in her hair because you think it would make her prettier. Likewise, I want to pay my respects to the sushi chef by eating it the way he wants to present it.   In fact, if I'm paying this huge amount of money to eat there, I definitely want him to tell me how he thinks his creation is best enjoyed.   I want to hear the story he has to tell, and not put words in his mouth. My only qualm would be if they were unfriendly, rude, or obnoxious about their rules.   But they really weren't. They were as attentive, friendly, and welcoming as any other fine dining restaurant in town.

Naturally, we didn't bother to order anything.   We went with the omakase, meaning we left it up to the chef to decide what he wanted to serve us. This presumes he knows what his best dishes are, he knows what is fresh that day, and he will serve you what he thinks is best. So, what did I have at this ultra elite, fine dining sushi experience?    What was the story that the chef wanted to tell?   Here it is, course by course:

Albacore Tuna & Blue Fin Tuna Sashimi in Ponzu Sauce at Sushi Sasabune

First up, was an appetizer of albacore tuna (white) and blue fin tuna (red) in ponzu sauce. The first thing that I noticed, was that the tartnessof the ponzu sauce instantly woke up my mouth, and fired up all of my taste buds. A good opening gambit. The second thing I noticed was both tuna, were cut absolutely, unmistakably, perfect. There was not a single vein in any piece of fish whatsoever. It was incredibly smooth. Though both tuna, the albacore definitely tasted different from the blue fin. My sister liked the albacore better, whereas I thought the ponzu overpowered it a little. I liked the blue fin a little better, as I thought it had a stronger fish taste, but she thought the reverse.

Squid Stuffed with Blue Crab at Sushi Sasabune

My next dish was a squid stuffed with blue crab. The squid was a nice soft texture, but what made this dish was the crab. The crab inside was just incredibly creamy, and full of crab flavor. It puts any crab cake in the world to utter shame. The sweetness of the sauce below was counter balanced by the strong roasted flavor of the sesame seeds on top. All of which was just superb with the crab.

Hamachi Collar Nitsuke at Sushi Sasabune

My sister is allergic to squid. Once in Nanjing, China, she had some squid that made her eyelids swell so much, they essentially swelled shut, making her look like a blind cave salamander. So the chef happily took that allergy into accomodation and prepared her an alternate second course of hamachi collar. If you've never had it, hamachi collar is pretty much the best part of any fish you will ever eat. It is the most tender, perfect fish meat. And his preparation was an awesome nitsuke style dish. It was a very familiar shoyu flavor, and she just loved it.

Toro Nigiri at Sushi Sasabune

Our third course was the first actual sushi. In this case, it was toro (or fatty tuna). Frankly, I was suprised to see this dish so early on. When you eat a piece of pear that's sweeter than an apple first, then you eat the piece of apple it seems kind of bland. The same goes for sushi. Usually you want your fattier pieces of fish to come later, otherwise you won't enjoy he leaner pieces as much. But in any case the toro was excellent. What I also immediately noticed, was that the rice was warm. Body temperature in fact. This is kind of odd when most places serve you chilled or room temperature rice. But I really liked the warm rice. It brought out the fish flavor more. Imagine a piece of butter on room temperature bread. Then imagine a piece of butter melting on warm bread. That is essentially the difference with the warm rice at Sasabune.

Flounder (top) & Amberjack (bottom) Nigiri at Sushi Sasabune

Our fourth course was a combination of amberjack and flounder sushi. The flounder has a crunchier texture, similar to king clam. Which was a nice contrast to the buttery, fatty, toro in the previous course. The amberjack had a nice piece of toasted garlic on it that gave the entire piece of sushi a very strong garlic taste. It was wonderfully garlicy, but I didn't taste the fish too much.

Hamachi Nigiriat Sushi Sasabune

Our fifth course was hamachi. I adore hamachi. It is my favorite sushi fish of all, so I had very high expectations here. Unfortunately, I was a little disappointed. On the downside, the wasabi was just a little too strong in my piece, so it really overpowered everything else. Also, the flavor of the fish just wasn't pronounced enough. It should have been much fattier, more buttery, but it was just lost to the wasabi. On the upside, that had one of the best textures I've had from any piece of hamachi anywhere. So the texture was awesome, but the flavor of the fish not strong enough. In fact, if there was one complaint my sister had throughout, this would be it.

Scallop (top) & Salmon (bottom) Nigiri at Sushi Sasabune

Our sixth course consisted of scallop and salmon. The salmon, like the hamachi, just didn't have a strong enough salmon flavor. It had a piece of pickled kelp on top which again overpowered the fish. Again, it had a fantastic texture, but not enough salmon taste. The scallop on the other hand was really huge, plump, and had one of the sweetest seafood tastes anywhere. It was super sweet.

Oyster Dynamite at Sushi Sasabune

Our seventh course was a baked oyster (sliced into 2 bites for you). It was hands down one of the plumpest, juicest oysters I've ever had. They cooked it just right too, so it was still plump and tender, and hadn't started to get shrivelled up or tough. It had a really strong oyster flavor, which was just complemented by the baked dynamite on top.

Blue Shrimp (top) & Mackeral (bottom) Nigiri at Sushi Sasabune

Our eighth course was a blue shrimp and spanish mackeral. This dish seemed very out of place to me. Following the oyster, both pieces seemed a little bland. I have had much sweeter shrimp in other places. So this dish was a little less memorable. By this time, my sister complained that she was getting full, but I convinced her the better stuff was still coming.

Snow Crab (left) and Mackeral (right) Nigiri at Sushi Sasabune

Our ninth course was a different type of mackeral and a snow crab. Again, the mackeral was not that memorable. But then always prefer the buttery grilled saba, to the kind of sour sashimi or sushi mackeral. The crab on the otherhand was fantastic. The chef took the roux (or as my wife likes to call it the "green stuff"), out of the head of he crab, and made it into a sauce that he drizzled on the crab itself. This nearly floored me. The combination of crab roux and sweet crab meat was just awesome. It gave it a truly intense crab flavor. It may just be the greatest piece of crab that I have ever put in my mouth.

Negitoro Nigiri at Sushi Sasabune

Or tenth course, was the negitoro. Now, they serve negitoro at Genki Sushi, but that might as well be a completely different dish entirely. This negitoro is the signature dish at Sasabune. They take the fish and chopped it so fine, that it practically has the texture of whipped cream. By pulverizing the fish, they also draw out much more of the fish flavor, than the regular piece of toro at the beginning. It was superb, and easy to see why it's their signature dish. I thought that this might be the last dish, as it was their signature, but there was much more to follow.

Spiny Lobster at Sushi Sasabune

Our eleventh course, was a spiny lobster. The lobster was cooked absolutely perfectly. It was just the right balance of tender and firm. So it was just perfectly succulent. But by this time, my sister is seriously complaining that she's over stuffed, so she didn't get to enjoy it too much. Again, I thought that this might be the last dish, as lobster is a pretty substantial thing to end on, but we pressed on.

Unagi Over Tamago at Sushi Sasabune

Our twelfth course, was an unagi over a piece of tamago. This was kind of innovative and interesting to me, because the chef substituted tamago for sushi rice. The tamago was a very soft spongy texture, which is worlds better than the tamago you usually get in your bento from Shirokiya. But again, this dish seemed out of place for me, because it was far less interesting than the crab, or negitoro, or lobster. At this point, my sister decided she just couldn't stomach any more, and told the waiter to stop for her. I on the other hand elected to keep going, for two reasons. Firstly, I didn't want to stop short, and not get my full money's worth. Secondly, and more importantly, I didn't want to cut short the story the chef was telling. As I explained it to my sister, you don't read a mystery novel, and quit before you find out who done it! I wanted to ride the train to the very last stop to see where the chef was going with it.

Blue Crab Temaki at Sushi Sasabune

For my thirteenth course, I got a blue crab hand roll. Now this was the same blue crab that I had gotten at the very beginning. While still extremely flavorful and creamy, I couldn't really understand why the chef had elected to repeat himself. This story was starting to not make any sense to me. On the other hand, as it was a hand roll, I figured the chef was just trying to fill me up with rice, as you would towards the end of a meal for diners who are still hungry. While the crab was tasty, it was still kind of ordinary to me.

Butterfish with Monkfish Liver Sauce at Sushi Sasabune

For my fourteenth course, I got a butterfish. But instead of done, misoyaki style, as we're used to in the islands, the chef made a sauce out of monk fish liver and poured it over the butterfish. Monkfish liver has been called the foie gras of the sea, so I was very excited to get to try it. However, at this point, I asked the waiter how many more courses there were, and he told me that the chef just keeps going until you tell him to stop. A little alarmed now, I politely told him that that would be it for me. Since I was a little frazzled by this new information, I really didn't get to enjoy the butterfish that much.

Not understanding how the omakase concept worked at Sasabune had 3 huge drawbacks that threw a big damper on our evening.   Firstly, my sister had a huge tummy ache, and she moaned practically the whole way home.   Had she known we could've stopped at any time, she probably would've stopped way before hand, and saved herself some pain.

Secondly, my understanding was that it would be a fixed price for the omakase course, like a prix fixe menu. But, even though we hadn't ordered ala carte, they were charging us for each dish we ate. So as we were eating more and more, we were racking up the tab.  Since almost 90% of the menu was imported from around the world (like Japan and New Zealand), with very little local ingredients, you would expect it to be pretty pricey.    In total, for the whole evening (including tax and tip), we paid $250 for just the two of us!   I was expecting it to be expensive, but that was even more than I had anticipated.   Doing the calculation, it was roughly $10 per plate on average (compared to Genki Sushi where it is roughly $2 per plate).   Sasabune, has a 4 plate per person minimum, so had we known, we could've spent $80 minimum for the two of us.

Thirdly, and the thing that was the most disappointing to me of all, was that this meant that there was no story that the chef was trying to tell.   There was no logical progression from dish to dish, one leading to another, the chef building up to a climax and a denouement. This was just the chef slapping together whatever the hell he felt like making. This was especially disappointing, because like my example of the apple and the pear, certain foods must preceed others as to not be overpowered. For a restaurant that places so much emphasis on precisely how the food should be eaten and enjoyed, for the price I was paying for the chef's expertise and artistry, not having a planned progression was a huge let down.   It's like hiring J.K.Rowling to come and play with your magnetic poetry board, rather than to write.

Having experienced probably 75% of their menu, the next time I visit Sasabune, I would probably just order ala carte.   Conforming to their 4 plate minimum, I would probably pick the squid stuffed with blue crab, the oyster dynamite, the snow crab, and the negitoro (not necessarily in that order). I might get the lobster, or the albacore and blue fin tuna in ponzu sauce too.   Then again, having experienced Sasabune once in my life, I think I'm pretty satisfied. I really did enjoy it.  They certainly showed extremely high quality ingredients, and an absolute mastery over their preparation. My own lack of understanding should not be counted against them. I will say this for certain, that is one dining experience that I will never forget.

Fantastic Filipino Food

2009-12-24T12:18:00.000-10:00

So, this one started out as a bet between my sister and myself.   Having explored the extent of Filipino fast food, at places like Golden Coin, and having thoroughly enjoyed Andrew Zimmern's adventures in the Philippines, I really wanted a taste of the real, authentic, homemade Filipino food.  I wanted to begin exploring my own backyard for some place serving the real thing.  Now, my sister has quite a number of Filipino friends from Hawaii, who she met in school on the mainland.   So I asked her, to ask them, where to find the really good Filipino food here in Hawaii. I wanted insider knowledge.   Just as I could rattle off the best Chinese places, I wanted a local Filipino guy to tell me where all of the good Filipino places were.   Her response was that, while available on the mainland, it simply didn't exist in Hawaii. I was immediately, simply taken aback.   How could that possibly be true, when we have such an incredibly large Filipino population.  Even moreso, how could it be available on the mainland but not here, when we have such a big Filipino community. Her rationale was that the Filipino population here is more prone to eating at home than eating out. Therefore, there are no restaurants that serve the really good Filipino food.   Whereas on the mainland, everyone's so independant, that they don't eat at home with their families, and the demand for authentic Filipino food is greater. While logical, I just couldn't believe that our local Filipinos community wouldn't have something really authentic and good to offer the rest of the us, their plantation neighbors.   So I set off on another quest, to find the really good Filipino food here, and more importantly to prove my sister wrong.

The Filipinos came to work on our sugar cane plantations very shortly after the Koreans, in 1906. Like the Chinese, Japanese, and Koreans, they quickly found a new home in these islands, and fast friends in their island neighbors. The neighborhoods of Kalihi and Waipahu became predominantly Filipino. Driving in Kalihi is always fun because you get to see the fancy Filipino architecture, immediately recognizable by the balconies and the colors. In my quest to find the good Filipino food, I again looked to Frank DeLima's "Filipino Christmas".   The one (to the tune of "Oh come let us adore him"), "You'll find us in Waipahu! You'll find us in Waipahu!" seemed like a veritable sign for me. And indeed, I did find them, and good food, in Waipahu.

The name that kept popping up in Waipahu for the best Filipino food, was Thelma's Restaurant, right on Farrington Highway. So one day after visiting a client in Waipahu, I decided to pop in to Thelma's. The first thing that surprised me, was that they were offering a lunch buffet. Like the Indian buffet at Zaffron, this was a wonderful way to first get exposed to real Filipino food. There were about a dozen dishes, most of which were completely unfamiliar to me. The most predominant thing that you notice about Filipino food in general, is that while using many of the similar flavors to all Asian cuisine, like shoyu and fish sauces, there is a distinctly sour component to many of the dishes. They love sour fruit juices and vinegar. This combined with the pungent fish sauces, make a distinctly Filipino flavor.    Thelma's is a great way of trying a wide variety of new dishes. While this gives the buffet a distinct advantage, the drawback is that you are unable to really familiarize yourself with a few representative dishes. You aren't able to name any dishes, or really understand their composition. Additionally, buffet food is never the highest quality, since it sits there for so long.   So while a fantastic cursory overview, to really get familiar, and make some favorites, you need to move beyond the buffet.

After a bit of additional research, I found the place that I would consider (as many do) the best Filipino food on the island. It is a little restaurant right on River St. called Mabuhay Cafe.   It was a little intimidating at fist, being a non-Filipino walking into this restaurant.   I was a bit afraid it would be like walking into a saloon in those old Westerns, were everyone suddenly stops talking and turns to stare at you.   But they certainly made me feel welcome. Their walls, are completely covered with Filipino luminaries that have graced their tables. I took it as an instant sign of quality that they had a picture of Ben Cayetano on their wall.   If the place was authentic enough to satisfy our own Filipino governor, then it must be good.   The only problem with Mabuhay Cafe is that they're located in a somewhat unsavory part of town.   Even parking across the street, I was accosted by a druken crazy person offering me his sage advice. It's not the kind of place, I would want to take a date, or any female friend for that matter.   Then again, once walking through the doors, you're in an oasis of good food.

Pork Adobo at Mabuhay Cafe

As the baseline for a visit to any Filipino restaurant, you just have to try the adobo. It gives you a good reference point, but besides that, not having the adobo is like learning about Japanese food and never trying sushi. Adobo is so iconic of Filipino cuisine, that you simply need to try it. But when I tried the pork adobo at Mabuhay cafe, my jaw almost dropped. Their adobo was quite simply the best adobo I've ever had in my life. It was like I had never tasted real adobo before. Their meat was incredibly tender. Fork tender, the way you can only get it if it's stewed for a really really long time. While it had some vinegar taste, it was very light. Some adobo I've had is overpoweringly sour, but theirs wasn't sour at all. The most distinctive spice in fact was black pepper, but it wasn't ground pepper you taste. That kind of flavor only comes from whole peppercorns, that have again been stewed long enough to infuse the meat with their flavor. It's a little oily, but it's a very flavorful oil. All in all, it wasn't nearly as overpowering as other adobo, and much more savory. It's one of those classics, that even the uninitiated can recognize is a classic.

Pork Gisantes at Mabuhay Cafe

Following the adobo, I opted for another classic dish, pork gisantes. Like the adobo, I've had gisantes where the tomato is very strong and sour. But their gisantes is just wonderfully savory. The peas have a really strong flavor, giving it almost the taste of split pea soup. But unlike split pea soup, where the peas are nothing but mush, giving it a baby food texture that I've never liked, the peas in the gisantes are still whole, and though soft, still have enough distinct texture to that I really enjoyed it. Again, the best pork gisantes I've had in my life.

Crispy Pata at Mabuhay Cafe

I wanted to have lechon, but looking on the menu, I found something that was a little more interesting. Instead of roast pork belly, they have deep fried pig's feet, called crispy pata. I'm used to pig's feet being in soup, and being basically a melt in your mouth skin. The crispy pata on the other hand, turns the skin into an uber crunchy pork rind. And I have no idea how they find so much meat in the pig's foot, but it's very meaty. It's not like lechon or roast pork, where you've got layers of fat and layers of meat. The meat here is just meat, but it's the perfect meaty texture. Some people may be a little scared to try pig's feet, but once you get a bite of that awesome crunchy skin, you're hooked.

Fried Tilapia at Mabuhay Cafe

Filipinos are also well known for their fried fishes.   When done right, the fish is fried to the point where the fins and the tail take on the texture of potato chips. It's awesome.   They're also known for using a fish that the rest of us consider somewhat repuslive, tilapia.    In Hawaii, the tilapia swims in some of our most poluted streams (like Nuuanu stream itsef).   Since tilapia takes on the flavor of whatever it's swimming in, most of us feel that eating tilapia is roughly the equivalent of shoving garbage in your mouth.   My dad said that he used to have Filipino co-workers that would even fish the tilapia out of Nuuanu Stream. He said that the trick was to throw the fish into a tank of fresh water for about a week or two, continually changing the water.   Doing this, essentially flushes all of the nasty taste out of the fish. I'm not anxious to try it, but I'm sure that the tilapia served at Mabuhay Cafe is farm raised.   It's delicious, and even my dad, who isn't as big a fish eater, he realy enjoyed their fish. The best part is the cheeks in the head, and the collar right behind the gills.

Filipino food has a bad stigma for dishes like black dog and balut. While neither of these dishes are on the menu at Mabuhay Cafe, there are other dishes that most people would find a little frightening.   Dinuguan, for example is basically a stew of pig guts and blood.   The velvety, dark black color, reminiscent of a squid ink stew, is a little scary to the Western palate.   I myself would love to try it, but I'm just not allowed to eat internal organs anymore.  As I really love ox tail, I was intrigued by their kare kare, which is a sort of peanut butter flavor stew. The problem again, is that it's cooked with tripe, which I'm not allowed to eat.  Mabuhay Cafe also has some prominent goat dishes on the menu, something I've never found on any other menu around the island.   Being quite fond of the gamey taste of lamb, I thought that I would really enjoy goat as well.   Unfortunately, goat has a lot of small, brittle bones that shatter and must be picked out of your food. The little bones made the goat somewhat less enjoyable for me, so I'm not as fond of it.

Admittedly there are some flavors that I just aren't that appealing to me.   They have a vegetable soup called sinigang, which has a very sour tamarind flavor.   I'm not really fond of sour soups, so sinigang just isn't very appetizing to me.   Probably the most famous Filipino vegetable dish is a mixed vegetable stir fry called pinakbet.   It's got all kinds of vegetables in it.  Most people don't care for it, because it's flavored with bagoong (their famous shrimp paste, similar to Chinese harm ha), which has a very strong flavor.   I personally love harm ha, so I have no problems with the pungent flavor, but the main vegetable in the mix is one that I just don't like, bitter melon.   Bitter melon is something that my Po Po used to love, and something my dad really enjoyed as he got older.   We figured that as you get older, your taste buds aren't as accute as they are in your youth, so stronger flavors like bitter melon appeal to you more. But as kids, we just don't like it.   So every year, we take a little taste, shudder, make a horrid face, and say "nope, I'm still young!"

Mabuhay Cafe is easily the best Filipino food I've ever eaten, and a great place to try exciting new flavors.   The best part about it was, that I definitely won my bet with my sister.   We really do have excellent authentic Filipino food here, as we should considering how big a part of our island community the Filipinos have been.

Black Dog Roasting on an Open Fire

2009-12-23T10:53:00.000-10:00

Christmas is a holiday celebrated around the world. So when you think of Christmas food, the first food that comes to mind probably isn't Filipino food. But listening to the radio this past week, they've been playing Frank DeLima's "Filipino Christmas" pretty frequently, and somehow it gave me a craving.   I think it's that one line (to the tune of Mel Torme's Christmas Song), "Black dog roasting on an open fire.   Bagaong boiling on the stove."  Somehow Frank's resonating tenor, although menat to be humorous, captures the same warm mesmerizing quality that Mel Torme's did, and invokes the same desire for festive food. Not that I really had a craving for black dog (something I've never actually tasted), but for Filipino food in general.

Filipino food has a bad stigma attached to it, I think.   It gets a bad rap, and people are afraid to try it because of dishes like black dog, and balut (or unhatched baby duck eggs).  While they certainly exist in the cuisine, and there really isn't anything wrong with either of those dishes (except that they defy the Western notions of what should and should not be eaten), they are not all encompassing of the entire cuisine.   But, because it lacks the popularity, Filipino food just doesn't have the prominence that Japanese or Chinese food has, even here in Hawaii. However, it certainly is readily available if you want to go get some.

Ironically, it isn't even in Hawaii that I first developed a liking for Filipino food.   It was when I was doing work for the Department of Education in Guarm. Being very far from home, my traveller's instinct kicked in and I really wanted to explore, especially the food scene.   For lunch, my contacts there took me to a popular Filipino fast food chain called, Jollibee.   While basically a burger joint, their flavors are definitely Filipino, and they offered Filipino favorites like palabok and Filipino style spaghetti (which is disarmingly sweet). This naturally piqued my curiosity, and for dinner one night, I went searching for more traditional Filipino dishes, something I found at one of the little vendors at the night market in the Chamorro Village. With Guam being only an hour flight away from the Philippines, it should be no real surprise that I found good Filipino food there.   But I figured with our huge Filipino population here, we must have similar food here.   So when I returned I promptly made a visit to the defacto headquarters for Filipino food here, Golden Coin Bakeshop and Restaurant.

Golden Coin is pretty much the definitive Filipino plate lunch in Hawaii. What Patti's Chinese Kitchen was to Chinese food, Golden Coin is to Filipino food.   A beloved and treasured, local favorite.  Even the ordering concept is the same, with a choice of starch and 2 to 3 choices from long rows of delicious, and foreign looking foods.   However, instead of chow fun, you get pancit as your starch.   Instead of choosing beef broccoli or lemon chicken, you can choose pinakbet or dinuguan. In fact, many of the Filipino dishes have Chinese roots. But they all have a very distinctly Filipino flavor.

Palabok from Golden Coin

Driving past Golden Coin on King St. in Kalihi, they had a big banner advertising their palabok. As this was one of the featured dishes at Jollibee as well, it was one of my first jumping off points for Filipino cuisine. Unfortunately, while comfort food for the Filipinos, the palabok really didn't excite me. It is basically a bed of very thin translucent rice noodles (much thinner than our local chicken long rice). On top of that they drown the plate in this thick, gloppy, corn-starch laden gravy, which to me really didn't have that much flavor. On top of that are the condiments of boiled eggs, shrimps, minced pork rinds, and some minced green onion. All in all, it's not a bad dish. But was pretty tame, and not at all threatening like black dog. I can easily see how it would be great comfort food for people who grew up with it. For myself, not having grown up with it, I found it an interesting hodge podge of toppings, but not that interesting a dish. The gloppy, messy gravy just wasn't flavorful enough for me.

Fried Bangus from Golden Coin

The one dish that really impressed me the most in Guam, was their fried fish. On my plate, I was basically served a whole fried fish. When done right, all of the fins and tail have an almost potato chip like crunch to them. So the next thing I tried at Golden Coin was their fried bangus (or milk fish). Bangus is pretty much he national fish of the Philippines. It is on practically every menu. The bangus at Golden Coin was tasty. However, it must've been a different fish from the one I had in Guam. It wasn't fried nearly as crispy. In fact, the skin on the fish, usually one of the best parts, was a little touch and scaly. But the meat was very nice and white, and the bones were easy to pick out.

Pork Adobo, Lechon, & Pancit Bihon Plate from Golden Coin

What Golden Coin does really well, is their 2-choice or 3-choice plates (the same as Patti's or Panda). Instead of getting a chow mein, I went straight for a pancit bihon. Their pancit also utilizes translucent rice noodles, like the palabok. It's somewhat similar to Singapore noodles. The best pancit I ever had, was of course, homemade by a Filipino lady who used to give us dance lessons. Her pancit was a completely addictive, chewy texture, almost similar to pad thai. But then, no fast food pancit could compare to her homemade goodness. And the pancit at Golden Coin was pretty on par with any other fast food noodle. Besides the pancit, I decided to try the quintessential Filipino dish, pork adobo. Their adobo was, not unlike beef stew from L&L in terms of texture. It's soft, but not melt in your mouth kind of soft. The gravy that it sits in is almost the same consistency as local style as well. However, instead of a tomato and carrot flavor, there's a vinegar and pepper flavor. The adobo is pretty much the classic version of adobo in my mind. It's the same style of adobo that every other plate lunch place that offers it, tries to achieve. But no one captures the tenderness of beef, or the classic vinegar taste, as well as Golden Coin.

Besides the pork adobo, I really wanted to try the lechon. I first saw lechon when watching Anthony Bourdain's adventures in the Philippines. The whole roasted pig slowly turning on the bamboo spit, getting glazed and golden brown, with skin as crispy and addictive as candy, made me literally drool. Mainly though, I wanted to see how it compared to Chinese siu yuk (roast pork). Unfortunately, I was a bit disappointed. Other than a different dipping sauce, the flavors of the lechon were essentially the same as any siu yuk you would find at a Chinese fast food place. Though they may use different herbs and seasonings, they weren't really pronounced enough to make the lechon taste different from siu yuk. Worse, the lechon suffered from the same flaws as all Chinese fast food places. The fat was congealed and hard, and all around unappetizing. When you cut off the hunks of fat, the meat you're left with is decent, but a little dry and not that tender. The skin was good though. Always the best part really.

Roast Pork from Duck Lee

Maybe I'm just culturally biased, but I think I like Chinese siu yuk better. Or it may be that having frequented more Chinese restaurants than Filipino ones, I just know who offers the best siu yuk and haven't yet found the equivalent lechon. Hands down the best roast pork on the island, is the suckling pig served at dim sum at Royal Garden. But then, that's yuu jyuu, not siu yuk, so it's a different dish. My favorite Chinese restaurant to get just a plate of siu yuk over rice, is still Hung Won. But then, comparing a little family restaurant to fast food is not exactly comparing apples to apples. The best take out, Chinese fast food, siu yuk can be found at Duck Lee in the Market City Shopping Center. If you can get it while it's still fresh and hot, it's just delicious. The meat is nice and soft, and the skin is just perfectly crunchy.

Roast Duck from Duck Lee

Speaking of Duck Lee, the best thing that they do is their roast duck. It's probably one of the best Chinese fast food dishes around. Each piece is just glistening with fat, juice, and the light sauce. The duck isn't just all bones. It's meaty and succulent. The skin, is not crispy, but just melts in your mouth, the same way that the skin on good shoyu chicken does. Best of all is the sauce they glaze the duck in. It's just the perfect blend of salty, sweet, and plum and star anise flavors. It doesn't overpower the duck, but really brings out the duck flavor.

It's kind of ironic that this Portuguese man is able to emulate the sounds of the Filipino language so well, and was able to set off such a quest. Then again, maybe it isn't that ironic, considering how well Frank knows Hawaii, and all of its people. In today's ridiculously oversensitive environment of political correctness, I'm sometimes surprised that Frank's ethnic humor can still survive. I have never been a fan of the political correctness movement. To me, instead of stimulating respect and tolerance for other cultures as it should, it fosters an environment where it is too easy to offend other people. People take themselves way too seriously. In Hawaii, we've learned that being able to laugh at ourselves is the key to cultural harmony (something that a few shows, like Avenue Q, have recognized). It's not meant to offend, it's meant to bond. And Frank's observations are funny because they're really accurate. Local Chinese really are thrifty to the point of excess. Local Japanese really are like how Frank personified as Glenn Miyashiro. The only ones who get bent out of shape listening to Frank, are the newcomers to the islands. But they too quickly learn that, humor and food are the keys to the racial harmony that we pride ourselves so much on.

The Unsung Local Favorite

2009-12-21T02:06:00.004-10:00

Welcome to my 75th blog entry!   For my 75th, I wanted to visit someplace really special, like John Dominis. However, after a considerable amount of mulling, I decided to go a different route.   With the hustle and bustle of the holidays, going someplace really fancy like John Dominis would be both inconvenient and budget breaking.   Additionally, since I already did that for my 50th blog entry, I thought I would try a different approach.   I was thinking about the most iconic of Hawaii foods, the kind of food that local people really miss and crave when they're on the mainland. The one that kept popping into my head, seemed so boring to talk about, and yet it really is conic of Hawaii.   Perhaps the most local local place I could think of.   So I finally settled on visiting Zippy's.

It really seems anti-climactic doesn't it?   I mean, it's Zippy's.   I might as well be blogging about how great McDonald's is.   Everyone goes there.   It's not like I'm discovering a new little secret hole in the wall or lunchwagon and letting everyone in on it.   It's Zippy's.   It's the place we all go to, when it's late, we're tired, we don't want to cook, we don't want to go anywhere fancy, we don't want to think about where we're going, it's just the default. But that mentality, is actually exactly why I should be blogging about Zippy's. When you're in a good relationship, like my wife and I, probably easiest trap you can fall into, and precisely the thing you don't want to do, is to start taking the other person for granted.   My wife does the laundry, does the dishes, gets the kids ready in the morning and takes them to school, cleans up the house, does the finances, and a myriad of other things to keep us going. What do I do? Cook dinner and take out the trash. Somehow she winds up doing the lion's share.   The very least I can do, is make her feel appreciated and loved. You never realize how good you've got it, until it's gone.    The same goes for Zippy's.   It's pretty much the king of local food, all of our very favorite local foods, all in one place, and it's always delicious.   But we always dismiss it as, eh "we're just going to Zippy's".   Like it's no place special.   But when you're away on the mainland, you are accutely aware of just how special Zippy's is.

Zippy's has just always been there.    I remember all the way back, when their logo was still those 9 rounded orange squares. Zippy's is the place you run to, to grab one last bite of local food before jumping on an airplane.   Or better yet, since they don't serve food on the airplanes anymore, you take a Zip Pack with you and eat it on the plane and make everyone jealous.    Zippy's is the very first place you want to eat, the moment you've gotten off the plane, weary from jet lag and a 5 hour flight, and you just want something to make you feel better, and right at home.   Zippys is the place you go late at night after seeing a late movie and no place else is open.   Zippy's is the place you go to after a big party, where they served you very fancy food, but not a lot of it and you're still hungry, even if you're still in your tuxedoes and fancy dresses (something my wife did after Sophomore Banquet).  Zippy's is where you go when it's the wee hours of the morning and the sun hasn't even come up yet, but you need a good breakfast before going to work early. Zippy's chili tickets (and huli huli chicken) are what just about every one of us used to have to sell as school kids for fundraisers. Naples are one of the best things to bring a box of when going to visit a client.  From our most celebrated nights (like Thanksgiving or prom night), to our most common, everyday, tired after work, just need something to eat nights, Zippy's has always been there.   So if you're seriously going to write a blog about local food, you just can't ignore Zippy's.   It's about as local as you can get.

But besides being the uber local favorite, Zippy's really has really great food.   Okay it's fast food, but it's so much better than any other fast food you'd find on the mainland.  But Zippy's also teamed up with the famous Dr. Terry Shintani, to offer a local yet healthy diet menu.   Their food is suprisingly high quality.   I for one am always surprised at just how high quality their fish is. It's actually really fresh mahi mahi and ahi that they serve, much better than you'd find at say a Long John Silver's.  They have such a variety too. Besides they're the only restaurant I know of that has the regular fast food take out windows, and around the corner you've got the sit down restaurant with a totally different menu. It's like they're 2 different restaurants stuck together at the hip.   Add on Napoleon's Bakery at just about every location, and it's like you're running a 3 legged race.   At some locations, they've even got an Japanese side, like an okazu-ya or sushi bar, and all the pieces come together like Voltron. But the best part is how diverse Zippy's is.   You've got something from just about every culture that has touched these shores, from saimin, to bentos, to Portuguese bean soup, to oxtail soup, to Korean chicken, and yet everything they make is in perfect harmony with each other, like they're meant to go together. All of these different cultures, these different foods, are now just our local foods, and all done just right.   So let's look at a few of my favorites.

Portuguese Sausage Omelette Sandwich from Zippy's

It's 4:30 AM, and I've got a 5:30 AM flight to Kahului to work for a day. I need something yummy and warm to get me going, cause I'm really dang tired. The sun hasn't even risen yet. Few places are going to be open. But Zippy's of course is. So I grab one of my favorite breakfasts in the world, the Portuguese sausage omelette sandwich. This thing is totally Portuguese. Not only is the omlette filled with small chunks of Portuguese sausage (linguica), but they've even put it on a soft sweetbread (pao doce) roll, with some nice melted cheese. There is nothing at all that's crunchy on this sandwich. It's like the opposite of crunchy. Every bite is a completely soft, warm, melty, yumminess that's exactly what I want in my tummy in the morning. Best of all, it's only like $2 per sandwich. 2 of them are just enough for a light breakfast on the run.

Chili from Zippy's

Of course you gotta love their chili. Southwestern chili is all about the spices. It's all about how hot they can make it, what kind of peppers they can put into it. It's about that earthy, almost burned, chipotle flavor. Filipino chili on the other hand is sweet. Unnervingly sweet. Zippy's chili, is unlike either of those. It's probably the epitome of mild. It's just this perfect mild, meaty flavor. I can't even figure out what seasonings (I shudder to call them spices), they put in it, because it's just so mild. I doubt that anyone on the mainland would like it, as it's so mild and not what they're used to, and yet everybody on the island loves it. We all have memories walking door to door as school kids (usually in our parents office buildings), trying to sell tickets of benefit chili. Besides huli huli chicken or school kine cookies, they're just about the easiest thing to sell, because everyone loves it. Ever since I was a kid, I've never even liked chili. I just don't like beans. I don't like the chalky, powdery texture of beans. And yet, I love Zippy's chili. Even the beans are so mild, and creamy in texture, I don't mind them. That really says something.

Spaghetti & Garlic Bread from Zippy's

My wife on the other hand, prefers Zippy's spaghetti. It's not that their noodles are freshly, hand made and perfectly el dente. It's not that they've got a secret blend of herbs or uber fresh tomatoes straight from their garden. It's not even in the same league as my mom's ultimate spaghetti sauce. Their spaghetti is just regular old every day meatsauce. Like their chili, its just all around very mild with a very simple meaty flavor. And yet, that's what makes it so great. It's comfort food to da max. It's the perfect execution of a basic everyday food, that keeps you wanting to come back to it.

Chicken & Chili Plate from Zippy's

Of course, I love Zippy's fried chicken (as does my wife). In fact, it's just about my favorite fried chicken in the world. I really like KFC and Popeyes. Neither of those can compare with Zippy's chicken. For one thing, it's all thighs. Which to me is the best piece. No dry breast pieces. No skimpy drumsticks. But the meaty, juicy, thighs with the fantastic skin on them. The skin is so crunchy, much crunchier than the Colonel's original recipie, and much more flavorful than his extra crunchy. Yet it's not really very oily either. It's got that Japanese fried chicken taste to it, that's completely different from the Southern offerings. So again, I'm not really sure that people on the mainland would like it as much as we do. But even if it costs 50% more than the Colonel's, I'd rather have a barrel of Zippy's chicken any day.

Oxtail Soup at Zippy's

In one of my very first blog entries, I've talked about how awesome the oxtail soup is in the sit down side of Zippy's. But it's worth mentioning again. Their oxtail soup has some of the tastiest, tenderist, meatiest, ox tails in town. All of the mushrooms, and the choi sum, and the peanuts, and the ginger, all work in perfect harmony to bring out the wonderful flavor of the soup. It's just awesome.

Zip Pack from Zippy's

But the thing I love most at Zippy's, the thing that I'm compelled to order every time, is their Zip Pack. It is perhaps the quintessential local style bento.   Everyone tries to emulate their combination, but they fall short because they don't have Zippy's awesome fried chicken, or their super fresh and crunchy mahi mahi.   It is the bento that sets the gold standard by which all other bentos in Hawaii are compared to. It's got beef, pork, chicken, and fish all on one plate.   The crunchy takuan and the furikake on the rice are the perfect little touches to top off this great bento.   The fact that I love Zippy's chicken already puts the Zip Pack ahead of the game. But what's so surprisingly good is always the fish.   Zippy's must have a deal with some really good fisherman, because it always surprises me how high quality the fish is.   From a fast food place, you're expecting the fish to taste a certain way, ie. processed, previously frozen, and not really associated with any real life from the ocean.   But no, Zippy's fish is flaky, moist, and tastes like fresh fish. Throw in some spam, it's the perfect local combination. The best of all worlds. Something that calls to me. Something that I crave. Something that I must have.

You gotta give props to Napoleon's Bakery too. Clients love it when you bring them a big box of Naples, of just about any flavor. They're so wonderfully flaky and they disappear very quickly at business meetings. My very favorite dessert at Zippys was always the jello cream cheese squares.   The sweet, crumbly, crust (which reminds me of the top of a french apple pie), works so perfectly with the cream cheese.   The cream cheese is so light and creamy, not at all thick and heavy like a normal cheesecake. And the red jello at the top just makes the whole combination so beautiful to behold.   These days, I don't get to eat a lot of those, but happily Napoleon's also makes some great sugar fee cakes.   The chocolate is good, but the blueberry is particularly spongy and light, and has a delightful blueberry taste.

Okay, Zippy's isn't exactly a profound discovery.   But sometimes, we just don't appreciate just how wonderful and local it is.   I just can't imagine a Hawaii without it.

The Purist Plate Lunches

2009-12-19T04:08:00.003-10:00

You can't talk about local food without at least mentioning L&L.    Ignoring that elephant in the room, is like talking about American fast food and leaving out McDonald's.   It's just not possible. L&L has become so prolific that they are starting to represent Hawaiian food to the rest of the country, the way that KFC is like the first gateway into Southern food for many people.   The big question is, are they an accurate representative?

You can't deny the success of L&L.   L&Ls not only dot our entire landscape, but they are spreading like locusts all over the mainland as well.   There are almost 300 L&Ls around the world, and that number is still rapidly growing.   I really can't say anything bad about L&L.   L&L Founder Eddie Flores, is not only one of the 2 most successful and brilliant businessmen I've ever met (the other being Victor Lim who was recongized by McDonald's corporate as one of the top McDonald's executives in the world), but Eddie is also a family friend and long time business associate.   I'm told that Eddie was even one of the first people to come visit me when I was born. We also went on a long tour of China with Johnson Kam, L&L's other founder. So I really can't dispute how successful they are or how much impact they've had on our community. However, I will say, that not all L&Ls are created equal.   Some are definitely better, more authentic, more local, and better tasting than others.

Back when we were in high school, L&Ls were far less prolific than they are now, and I used to keep a mental map of all L&L locations so we could quickly find the nearest one.   Hanging around UH?   Well, you can quickly duck into a secret L&L location, hidden in the parking lot behind Magoo's Pizza in Puck's Alley (actually the 2nd L&L ever).   Leaving Ala Moana? Well turn the corner on Young Street and there was an L&L tucked away in business complex there by Shiseido. Of course, these days, trying to remember all of the L&L locations is a daunting and pointless task, as they're everywhere you look, even all over the mainland.   Just like McDonald's of Hawaii offering saimin, Portuguese sausage breakfast platters, and the McTeri, at the L&Ls in Texas, you can choose between Hawaiian sides (rice & mac salad) and Texas style sides (like baked beans or corn).

Back in the old days, each L&L was actually very different.   Many offered very different menu options.   As L&L was the offspring of a Filipino business man and a Chinese business man, some L&Ls offered more Filipino dishes like pork adobo, while other L&Ls offered more Chinese dishes, like lemon chicken or cold ginger chicken.   At some L&Ls the katsu sauce was thicker with a ketchup like consistency and more of a tangy taste (the more original Japanese way), while at others it was as thin as egg yolks with a sweeter taste (the way I actually prefer it). As L&L expanded. especially to the mainland, they did a lot to standardize and homogenize the franchises. So the chain is much more consistent now in its offerings. This actually waters down L&L's street cred a little, as they are seen as trying to appeal to the mainstream populace a little too much. But even with their mass standardization, they are still my favorite place to get at chicken katsu, and there are still some L&Ls that are slightly better than the others.

My wife used to work near Sand Island, and occasionally I would pick her up and take her to lunch. When craving a good chicken katsu, we would head over to the L&L in Dillingham Plaza, behind Sizzler, by the Foodland and Pricebusters.   That L&L has all of the signs of a good L&L.   For one thing, it's not in a mall or shopping center.   The patrons are all working class, local people from Kalihi. It's clean, but not too clean, modern, or new looking (it's got that worn out shoe look).   Best of all, it's a great sign when after placing your order, the girl behind the counter yells to the back in Cantonese "yut goh dai katsu, yut goh sai see-tiu!!".   Those are all the signs of a good plate lunch to come.

Chicken Katsu & Beef Stew Mix from L&L

The 2 dishes that I like best about L&L in general are their chicken katsu and their beef stew. Let's face it, chicken katsu is pretty hard to screw up. At worst, they can skimp on the chicken and you get lot of hard batter, or the batter isn't crunchy. But the chicken katsu at this L&L is always good. Meaty, lean pieces of chicken, and crunchy batter, and the katsu sauce is the thinner, sweeter one that I really like. Beef stew on the other hand is easy to get wrong. If you don't stew it long enough, the big cubes of beef can quite easily be tough and unchewable. You could also easily get a plate with very few pieces of beef and just a lotta stew. But the one at this L&L, the meat is always quite tender, and you get a lot of beef, potatoes, celery and carrots. The stew at L&L isn't nearly as good as the classic old Hawaiian style stew you get at Fresh Catch, but they are pretty much the gold standard, the benchmark, for modern local style beef stew, the kind with the thicker, red-orange gravy. Some places that make this kind of stew, make it with too much tartness from the tomatoes, but at this L&L, it isn't tart at all, in fact the sweetness of the carrots shines through.

Cold Ginger Chicken from L&L

The other great thing about this L&L is that you know it's one of those classic old Chinese L&Ls. They've still got classic Cantonese dishes like cold ginger chicken (bak cheet gai) on the menu. In fact, their cold ginger chicken is awesome. For one thing, it's actually cold. Just came out of the refrigerator cold in fact. Which is good because I hate lukewarm ginger chicken. But unlike coming right out of the refrigerator, the chicken isn't dried out. It's still plump and moist, and there is a lot of good white meat, not just all bones. Some places also make the sauce with too much ginger (with big chunks or scraggly ginger hairs still sticking out). This sauce is the perfect balance of oil, ginger, and green onion, all of which are very finely minced. They've also got classic lemon chicken on the menu, however at other L&Ls they've reduced this great dish to fried chicken with some lemon sauce on the side for dipping (which frankly smells like lemon detergent), instead of the nice post frying, glazing bath the way it's supposed to be done (the way it used to be done at Patti's Chinese Kitchen). So I just didn't have the heart to order it, for fear of disappointment. But still, this L&L is much better than some of the other L&Ls I've been to.

While L&L's push for homogenization has lead to better consistency in their offerings, the biggest problem is that they lose out on the individual character and uniqueness that made all of our little plate lunch places so great. It is the little ones that have the most flavor, because with no other ambiance to speak of, they need it to maintain their customer base. My friend, Eric, owns a little place called LoCo MoCo Drive Inn. They make the best deep fried crab puffs in town. Cruncy little deep fried won tons, with a creamy crab center, they're just totally addictive.

Pot Roast Pork with Mushroom Gravy from Regal Diner

I have also been very vocal about my favorite little plate lunch place, Regal Diner, in McCully Shopping Center. In the past I have talked about how they definitvely have the best loco moco on the island, how they have also have an awesome corned beef and cabbage, and how my dad is especially fond of their special mix with beef curry or beef stew. What I haven't mentioned how much I like their super tender pot roast pork with mushroom gravy, which is second only to the supreme roast pork that used to be offered by the Kanak Attack lunchwagon. The pork is so savory, and the mushrooms are so packed with intense mushroom flavor which bleeds into the gravy as well. Their signature Regal Special mixed plate even has mussels and deep fried squid rings. What other plate lunch place offers mussels or calamari on their mixed plates?? In fact, there is very little on their menu that I don't like, and after merging with Island Manapua Factory, they have even more good stuff to offer!

Honey Garlic Chicken & Fried Rice from Regal Diner

However, for the ultimate, grubby gourmet, greasy spoon, grungy, dingy, local dive experience, you have to go to a little place my dad found called, Kevin's Drive In. The main location is in Kalihi, on King Street, one block from Gulick (next door to Ray's Cafe). They also had one in the Chinese Cultural Plaza, right next to Nuuanu Stream, but while retaining the same menu, they changed the name to Kent's Drive Inn. In fact, my dad used to frequent the one in Chinatown so much, that they used to call him "Ah Sook" (or "Uncle"). Whether you go to Kevin's or Kent's, you will get the real local plate lunches, that are unabashedly oily, salty, artery clogging, and super delicious. My dad would go there to get the chili dog plate so often, that the girl behind the counter would know his order before he ordered it. But the two items on the menu that to me that really capture how tasty they are, are the chicken steak fried rice and their pork cutlet.

Pork Cutlet from Kevin's Drive In

Their fried rice is some of the best greasy spoon fried rice you'll ever have. It's just filled with little bits of char siu, egg, and shrimp, and it's not afraid to be a little oily (it is fried after all). Layer on top of that some beautiful pieces of chicken, that have the full on shoyu and oil taste. It is the kind of chicken that L&L has made famous as Hawaiian barbecue on the mainland, but this is the real deal. This awesome dish is only topped by their even more awesome pork cutlet. Even though its battered and fried, the pork is still moist and tender inside. Their salt and pepper batter is, well really salty. And peppery. It's not excessively salty that it's overwhelming and you can't swallow it, but it's not afraid to use enough salt to bring out the full pork flavor. Then it's drowned in fantastic brown gravy, that you know they made themselves, because it has that oily, fresh from the frying pan quality. Mmm, oily and salty, and so so good. Face it, if you're going to have a plate lunch, you might as well go all the way to the dark side.

L&L has done a fantastic job of giving the plate lunch, more nationwide recognition. But it is the little places, with their individual character and uniqueness that made the plate lunch so special to begin with. That is the culinary heritage we need to enjoy and preserve.

Legendary Lunchwagons

2009-12-18T02:22:00.000-10:00

I grew up visiting my dad's favorite lunchwagons and hole in the wall restaurants.   As a State worker, he was somehow always privy to all of the best little eateries and greasy spoons in town. I was indoctrinated into the history and legacy of the lunchwagons, how they evolved from worker's lunches during the plantation days, to become some of Hawaii's best eats available only when they magically appeared.   My dad shared with me some of the best places in town, like my beloved Kanda Lunchwagon at the pier at Kewalo Basin, my favorite lunchwagon of all time, and they became some of the fondest memories of my youth.   So when I started working full time on my own, I really wanted to explore and find some of my own places.   Maybe even return the favor and take my dad to some really awesome little places that he'd never been to.

My very first day on my first (full time) job, I was just getting to know my co-workers and get oriented in my new company. So when they decided that it was about time to grab some lunch, I followed along like a little lost sheep, trying to make friends.   Fatefully, they brought me to what I would consider one of the greatest lunchwagons of all time, second only to the Kanda Lunchwagon at the pier.   It was the Kanak Attack lunchwagon, parked in the back of a nondescript parking lot, adjacent to a strip club on Kona Street. Now, I had seen Kanak Attack before, driving past the restaurant they used to have on Kapahulu Ave., but I had never visited them or known that they had a lunchwagon. Naturally, I was quite excited to be trying a new lunchwagon that I had never heard of before. Everyone ordered mini-plates, but as it was my first time and I was curious I ordered the full size, and I quickly figured out why everyone ordered mini's. I ordered a hot turkey sandwich, and the plate was just plain huge.   Not only were there about 4 slices of bread, but a good 2 lbs of turkey, and it was stuffed with mashed potatoes and stuffing, and covered with perfect turkey gravy, with even some cranberry sauce on the side.   In Hawaii, we've got an expression, "Local boys don't eat til they're full, they eat til they fall asleep."   The ensuing nap that follows is referred to as a "kanak attack", and the lunch from this little lunchwagon was quickly living up to its namesake.   It wasn't just huge either, the turkey was just about the best turkey that I had ever gotten from a restaurant. Of course it didn't compare to my mom's Thanksgiving turkey, but it was real slices of turkey breast, and not the pressed turkey that you normally get from a diner (like Kenny's or Like Like), and it was really tasty.

The Kanak Attack lunchwagon quickly became my favorite place to go for lunch. Not only were their portions huge, but they were really cheap. They remain, to this day, the only place I ever found you could get a full plate lunch for about $5 + no tax (and a mini plate for $3.50).   Often their plates were so huge, I would eat half one day, and save the other half for the next day, making them even more economical. This of course made a huge difference for a newlywed, living on his own budget for the first time.  I quickly became a regular there. The food there was awesome.   They were the only place I knew of that even put tuna in their potato salad, making it much more of a real side dish, than a cheap filler.   The lunchwagon had a different menu every single day, and you needed to pick up one of their printed menus for the month, to plan ahead what you're going to order.   You had to be quick, because often the best stuff would be sold out by noon.   Fridays were always Hawaiian food days.   But my favorite days were Tuesdays.   In addition to their other specials, Tuesdays would regularly feature my two favorite dishes from the lunchwagon, their roast pork, and their braised shortribs.   Their roast pork was thick, credit card sized pieces of  supremely tender pork, swimming in some of the best brown gravy I have ever had at a restaurant. But it was their braised shortribs that were the ultimate order.   In my life, I can count on one hand the places where I have ever had short ribs that tender, among them the kal bi chim at Sorobol and teri short ribs at Suehiro's. But while those were more Oriental tasting, Kanak's was more local tasting. Covered in a different gravy from roast pork, but equally as delicious, I often wonder if I will ever have short ribs like that again.

Kanak's was more than just nourishment for me though, it was like a confidant. Unfortunately, in my new job, I had a coworker that just totally had it in for me. He would criticize, with great hostility, every single little thing that I did, to the point that I went home depressed every day.   I really wanted to quit, but as I was a newlywed who really needed to provide for his new family, I desparately tried to tough it out. Lunch was my only reprieve from his relentless onlaught of degredation and scrutiny, and I would find myself wandering over to Kanak's, picking up a plate and hiding away on some stairs in the back alleys on Kona St.   It was my only moments of quet and solice, enough to give me back some of my composure. Kanak's was a much needed respite and for that they would always hold a special place in my soul. Much later, when my son turned 2 years old, I had a big picnic at the zoo for his birthday, and shared my beloved roast pork and braised short ribs with all of my friends and family, and with them some of the warm fuzzies that Kanak's gave me when I so needed it. Unfortunately, the Kanak Attack lunchwagon has long since closed on Kona St.   They no longer have their Kapahulu location either, but for a while they were serving lunch out of the St. Louis Alumni clubhouse on Isenberg St..   That location has also disappeared, and I am not sure when or where they will magically reappear again, but when they do, I will certainly be one of the first in line.

As time went on in my office, I eventually found a working relationship with my co-worker (largely due to the patience and tolerance that I afforded him, which no one else in the office did).  I began going out to other clients and wandering around town. This, naturally, gave me more opportunity to continue my quest for little local places.   One of the places I found, was the Tsukenjo's Lunch House on Cooke St. A little ironically, I became familiar with their actual restaurant, and not the red lunchwagon they were famous for on Ward Ave. But I quickly came to know what everyone liked about them so much.

Roast Pork from Tsuekenjo's

Their most famous dish is their also their roast pork. However, unlike Kanak's which featured big tender pieces of pork, Tsukenjo's roast pork is sort of like kalua pig with gravy on it. Of course, this gives it all of the tenderness and smokey flavor of good kalua pig, with the addition of terrific brown gravy. It's not quite as good as Kanak's was, but at least they're always there (every day) for you to enjoy.

Shoyu Chicken from Tsukenjo's

Tsukenjo's also makes some terrific shoyu chicken. Their chicken is smaller than the big pieces of chicken thigh that you normally expect from shoyu chicken. But the chicken is literally fall off the bone tender. In fact, it's somewhat difficult keeping it on the bone, as it falls apart at your touch. But it is infused with a delicious gingery shoyu taste. The stronger ginger taste makes their shoyu chicken stand out, and show you what's so great about Tsukenjo's.

As I began to do work for more State agencies, I found myself coming full circle, to find places that State workers like my dad, went to eat. Perhaps the best downtown lunchwagon, is the famous, yellow, Nicky's Lunchwagon & Catering, with 2 locations, right between the State Library and Honolulu Hale, and right next to the King Kamehameha Statue across from Iolani Palace. This little lunchwagon is where I would go whenever working downtown, and on the right days, I would pick up lunch and head over to the Iolani Palace bandstand to hear the Royal Hawaiian Band play. Recently, I brought my wife and son downtown for just that experience.

Shoyu Chicken & Chicken Long Rice from Nicky's Lunchwagon

The shoyu chicken I had at Nicky's is more like your traditional shoyu chicken. The mark of a perfect shoyu chicken is of course how buttery, melt in your mouth, the chicken skin is, and the one at Nicky's is up there with the best of them. My only complaint was that they didn't put enough of the shoyu sauce over the chicken to keep it moist, and so the rice can soak up all that wonderful shoyu and oil. But of course, I never asked for them to give it to me that way either. Conversely, their chicken long rice has a very light, clean taste. It is almost too bland, and doesn't have enough of the ginger or broth that makes for a good chicken long rice. In retrospect, I would have gone for just a shoyu chicken plate, rather than the mix, but I'm just compulsive about having a little variety.

Beef Stew from Nicky's Lunchwagon

My wife ordered their beef stew, which was very generous in all of their ingredients. Lots of tender, if a little fatty, beef. Lots of big hunks of potato (which she loves). Lots of tender pieces of stewed celery (which she doesn't, but which I do). Lots of everything in fact, which is the mark of a good lunchwagon. Not having a permanent venue, with the overhead of rent, gives the lunchwagons more room to do the food just right, with lots of quality ingredients. This is exactly what she found in her beef stew. For my taste though, their stew had a little too much of that tomato tartness. It didn't compare with the salty, savory, stew from Fresh Catch, but it was tasty nonetheless.

The lunchwagons are as dear to our culture as hot dog carts are to New Yorkers. They serve more than just fantastic local cuisine and fantastic value. They serve the workforce of Hawaii, with the warmth and strength to get through the work day. They are the hidden jewels in our society that my dad shared with me, and which I was so happy to share back with him in his retirement.

Duel of the Garlic Chickens

2009-12-17T03:26:00.001-10:00

The folks down South may claim fried chicken as a cornerstone of Southern cuisine, but in Hawaii we've got many more variations on fried chicken due to our Asian influence.   You've got chicken katsu, of course.   You've got chicken karaage.   You've got mochiko chicken, battered with mochi flour so that it's much chewier and stick to your teeth than the regular crispy batter. You've got the classic Chinese lemon chicken, which is glazed in sweet, sticky, lemon sauce after it's been fried (and more recently that abomination, orange chicken).   You've got spicy Korean chicken, which is glazed in Korean spices afterwards.   But perhaps one of my favorite ones, is our local garlic chicken.

When it comes to garlic chicken, there are really only 2 names in town, Mitsu-ken and Sugoi.   If you ever travel to Philadelphia, and you want a really authentic philly cheese steak sandwich, you're likely to get caught in the rivalry between Pat's and Geno's. The two venues are right across from one another, and there is an intense and heated feud between them. Each side commands legions of loyal followers who are strictly devoted to one side or the other.   Here in Hawaii, Mitsu-ken and Sugoi really don't have such a public rivalry, but the garlic chicken world is definitively split between them.

Mitsu-ken is the older of the two shops, and a very classic little hole in the wall okazu-ya.  It's right down the road from Kamehameha Shopping Center on School Street, near Gulick Ave.   If you were driving past, you'd probably miss it, except for the very long lines of faithful patrons running out the door and down the block all morning long. Not being someone who hangs around Kalihi a lot, I first found out about the place watching Bruddah Sam and Lina Girl attacking practically everything on their menu. Long before Bourdain or Zimmern, Local Kine Grindz was the show that would make my mouth water, and when Bruddah Sam held up 3 plates, a garlic chicken combo with roast beef, a garlic chicken combo with roast pork, and a garlic chicken combo with more garlic chicken, I figured that the garlic chicken must be good there.   Naturally, Bruddah Sam was right. From the moment that I first tasted their garlic chicken, I was instantly addicted.

Garlic Chicken Mixed Plate from Mitsu-Ken

The garlic chicken at Mitsu-ken's has a very light crispy batter.   It's kind of like the crunch of cereal after a few moments in milk (but way before it gets to be soggy). The bath in garlic sauce has the same effect on the fried chicken.   It's not soggy in any sense, but it's more crispy than crunchy. Since the sauce glazes the chicken, it's much more absorbed into the chicken than if you were just dipping fried chicken into a garlic sauce dip. It's got perfectlly balanced sweet, garlicy flavor.   It's not too strong so that it's overpowering, nor is it too subtle that you don't know you're eating garlic chicken. It's just the right amount of sweet and garlicy that you just keep wanting to eat more of it.   You can get it in combination with any of their other goodies, or if you're like me and want some of everything, you probably want either the garlic chicken bento or the garlic chicken mixed plate.

The big disadvantage to Mitsu-ken's, is there really isn't any parking anywhere around except for 2-3 stalls right in front.   If you can't get one of those, your best bet is to drop off a passenger (like my wife for example) to stand in line while you circle around the block.  Since Mitsu-Ken has only 2 tables as well, we usually then head further down School Street and have lunch at Lanakila Park. This gave me a great idea to have a little party, when my company, Opihi Net, celebrated the successful completion of its first year in business. We bought a ton of food from Mitsu-Ken, and invited all of my clients to Ala Moana Beach Park for a little picnic. For those clients that couldn't make it, I packed up boxes of garlic chicken to be delivered to their offices. It was a rousing success, and sharing the awesomeness of this secret little hole in the wall with the awesome garlic chicken, was a great way to show my appreciation.

Sugoi is the newer of the two shops, located in City Square, by the DMV (where the old Gem's used to be).   Their name is an interjection in Japanese meaning "cool!" or "incredible!".   That pretty much accurately describes their food. They've got a fantastic ahi loco moco, some really great yakisoba, and a terrific saba bento. But what they've been seriously building a reputation on is their garlic chicken.   They have even been selling bottles of their garlic chicken sauce in retail, and I've even seen it on the shelf at Longs.   Sugoi also has a garlic chicken bento, similar to Mitsu-Ken's, but for health nuts like my sister, theirs comes can be substituted with brown rice.   All of which is making their garlic chicken more appealing to a broader audience.

Garlic Chicken Bento from Sugoi

Sugoi's garlic chicken is a but crunchier than Mitsu-ken's. I'm not sure if it is that their batter is thicker, or if they don't soak it as much as Mitsu-ken, but their chicken definitely has a more substantial crunch to it. The garlic in their sauce is also a bit sharper. When garlic is raw, it has an almost spicy bite to it, that completely disappears after it has been cooked long enough. Somehow the garlic sauce at Sugoi retains more of this sharpness, than the sauce at Mitsu-ken. In general, the sauce at Sugoi's has an all around more intense flavor than the one at Mitsu-ken. It's sweeter, sharper, crunchier, and just overall much stronger. It's easy to see why it is gaining popularity so quickly. Besides that, the ample parking at City Square and the two rooms full of seating area, make Sugoi much more accessible than Mitsu-ken.

Mini Garlic Chicken from Sugoi

Both Sugoi and Mitsuken have ridiculously delicious garlic chicken. However, my own personal preference remains with the old school flavor at Mitsu-ken. I love garlic. I'm usually very liberal with the garlic in a lot of my cooking, and I know what a difficult job it is to find that perfect moment when the garlic is nicely browned. Too raw, and it will have that pungent sharp bite to it. To burned and the delicate flavor will be ruined with char. But when it is perfectly browned, there is no sharpness to it, just a fragrant, lingering, smooth garlic flavor. To me, that is the perfect balance found at Mitsu-ken. Although the flavors are much more intense at Sugoi, I just like Mitsu-ken's a little more. The more subtle, more delicate flavors at Mitsu-ken just keep you wanting to eat more and more, while the stronger flavors at Sugoi kind of bludgeon you over the head and knock you out for the count.

Both Mitsu-ken and Sugoi have made an indelible mark on our culinary heritage with their fantastic garlic chicken. Like the cheesesteak in Philadelphia, I hope both their garlic chickens will be celebrated, and enjoyed for generations to come.

A Ray of Goodness

2009-12-16T00:48:00.000-10:00

What would you do if you were financially set, and didn't have to work any more?    Would you still work? Would you still work because you felt like you made a difference to the community?    Would you still work because it gave you a sense of purpose?   Would you still work just because you loved doing it?   Would you still work just for fun? I'm guessing that the honest answer for most people would be a resounding, "Hell No!".   I'm guessing that most people would prefer to spend their remaining days travelling, futting around the house, spending time with their grandkids, or in general just going holo holo.    But a surprising number of people I know, many more than you'd imagine, couldn't just sit home and relax.   These are the people who are the best at what they do.   The people who really produce something special.   Anyone can do a job, because they need to earn a living, but the people who do it because they really love it are the ones who really create magic.

It sounds hypothetical, but I know of one such man.    His name is Felix.   He's an older, bolo head little man with glasses, and probably one of the nicest old Filipino men you'll ever meet.   He's the kind of guy who genuinely exudes warmth and aloha from his smile.   From what I understand, he also made quite a decent living as a realtor, so he really doesn't need to work anymore.   But it was his dream, his passion, to run a restaurant.   A good restaurant, where you could get an awesome meal for a very reasonable price.   Just the kind of place that he would want to patronize.   So that's exactly what he did.   He opened up a little local place, and named it after his son, Ray.   Thus was born, perhaps my dad's favorite restaurant in the world, Ray's Cafe.

My dad found out about Ray's, like all of the fantastic little hole in the walls he knows about, during his time as a State worker.   Like all of the secret State worker hangouts, Ray's served big amounts of fantastic food for tiny prices. Ray's Cafe was originally on the corner of Smith and Beretania, across the park, next to where Golden Harvest Theater used to be (the place my mom would go watch and translate all of the kung fu movies for my dad when they were dating in the 60's).   Back then it was a tiny little joint with 3 tables that would be packed with firemen, police officers, and other big blalahs who could really pound all that food.   I took my wife there once when we were dating, and she was less than impressed with the ambiance (not really the kind of place you should be taking a date anyway).   Since then he's moved to Kalihi, on King St. just before Gulick Ave., to place that's doubled in size (with 6 tables), but retains the same hole in the wall charm.

My understanding is that the secret to Felix's success, is that he's made friends with his meat suppliers, who always give him the best cuts of meat at really great prices.    Since Felix is already pretty well to do, he passes on that value to his patrons.   The result is really huge portions of really high quality food at dirt cheap prices.   This naturally leads to a fanatical following by those who know about the place, like my dad.   My dad enjoys it so much, that on Father's Day, rather than some fancy steakhouse or big sunday brunch buffet, we take him to Ray's instead. The only drawback is, not only is it somewhat difficult to find street parking in that area, but Ray's is usually packed with all of the other local people who know about it and are trying to cram into one of the 6 tables.

Prime Rib at Ray's Cafe

Back when my dad first found out about Ray's, he used to rave about the oxtail stew (something my dad almost never raves about). These days, it is my dad's favorite place to get his favorite dish in the world, prime rib. Honestly, where else on the island, can you get a cut of prime rib that is the size of a mousepad, and over an 1" thick, for around $12-$15. Not only is the slab huge, but it is perfectly cooked, moist and tender. Sure it's not seasoned with fancy cajun seasonings like you find in the steakhouses (for 3-4 times the price). It doesn't even come with the creamy horseradish that you get at Cattle Company. But it's a perfectly cooked, simply seasoned, cut of meat that lets you taste the true beef flavor. Add 2 big scoops of rice, and a salad that is easily 1/3 a head of lettuce, and you've got a really substantial meal for a great price. For my dad, growing up in a very low income era, prime rib was seen as the epitome of food, reserved only for really special occasions. So the prime rib at Ray's is something special that he enjoys down to the core of his being. It is his favorite meal in the world. Period.

Fresh Grilled Mahi Mahi at Ray's Cafe

Not a big red meat eater? Felix has also made friends with some really choice fishermen. He's always got gigantic pieces of mahi mahi, or ahi, or other big fish on his specials menu, for less than $10. Again, they're not seasoned the way that you'd find a fancy seafood restaurant. They're very simply grilled, to bring out the natural flavor of the fish. But the texture is just perfect, tender and flaky, and never overcooked. This is seriously fresh tasting fish. I have never seen pieces of fish the size, the size that he serves, anywhere else.

Bento at Ray's Cafe

My favorite thing on Ray's menu is the bento. Can't decide between the steak and the fish? Why not a little bit of both? At least that's how it used to be. A good sized piece of steak, a good sized piece of fish, some spam and a couple of pieces of fried chicken. It was like a Zip Pack from Zippy's on steroids. But unfortunately, I think this economy has even affected Ray's, because a few years ago he replaced the actual steak with several pieces of teri beef. Not that the bento isn't good anymore, it's just not the one I first fell in love with. It is still everything that a Zip Pack tries to be, and succeeds in ways that a fast food chain just can't compete with.

Steak and Alaskan King Crab Legs at Ray's Cafe

The biggest special at Ray's (when he has it), is probably his steak and king crab legs.   This is where Felix's relationship with his suppliers really shines. This is not the thinner, Japanese snow crab, that you see on buffets around the island.   This is real Alaskan king crab, with a diameter bigger than wrapping paper tube.   The key though is the freshness. You can always tell when you've got an older piece of crab, by how easily it comes out of it's shell.   If the shell is hard and easy to crack then it's pretty fresh.   If the shell is soft and bends (and thus difficult to open), or if the crab sticks to its shell so that you can't pull it out in one big piece, then the crab isn't the best.    The crab at Ray's not only easily comes out in one big piece, but it is still very moist and juicy, and has a really strong crab flavor.   There is no way that you could walk into a Sizzler, or any other place, and order something like that for less than $20.

The best thing about Ray's food is the quality and freshness of his dishes.   The cuts of meat are all premium quality meat.   The seafood is all impeccably fresh and the choicest quality. He may not be a star chef, with all of the haute techniques, but he lets the quality of the meat and fish shine on their own.   And on top of that, he gives you a huge portion and a great value.   Everything can be summed up in his lobster or crab omelettes, with really substantial pieces of lobster or crab, 4-5 eggs, and liberal use of butter. They're huge, premium quality, and hopelessly delicious.

Imagine what the world would be like if we were all like Felix.   If work wasn't something that we toiled through because we needed to in order to survive, but something we did simply out of passion. Based on the quality of food you get out of Ray's, I can just imagine the quality of life we would have. That's the kind of world I want to live in.

Curry Crazy

2009-12-14T02:42:00.001-10:00

One of my cousins from Canada came to visit recently, an naturally I took him on a whirlwind eating tour of Hawaii. As we were passing through McCully Shopping Center, to visit my favorite little plate lunch place, Regal Diner, my cousin noticed the name Curry House. His first thought was that the place was an Indian restaurant. I suppose this comment shouldn't have disoriented me as much as it did.   Indians are well known for their curry worldwide, and there is even a place downtown on Bishop St., next to Remington College called Komala Curry House, which I'm still very interested in trying one day. But my immediate reaction to my cousin was that he was so strange.   After all, in Hawaii, the first curry that you think of is Japanese curry.   Curry House is of course a part of the multi-national Japanese chain, Curry House CoCo Ichibanya.

My reaction to my cousin just underscored the difference in viewpoint between us islanders and people from the mainland.   But in truth, in Hawaii we've got many different kinds of curry.   Of course we've got the Indian curry that my cousin initially thought of. However, to me, Indian curry (really a masala or a vindaloo) isn't the best example of curry, because they use so many different spices in conjunction with their curry, that it kind of overwhelms the curry powder itself.   While the resulting dish is outrageously delicious, it doesn't allow the curry spice enough of the spotlight.    We've also got Thai curry, Vietnamese curry, and curries from other parts of Southeast Asia.   The Thais in fact have red curry, yellow curry, green curry, and others (my favorite being Panang curry), each with their own distinct flavor.   But again, this is not the best example of curry, because the predominant taste is that of the coconut milk, the thai basil, and the chili peppers that they use. Again, while extraordinarily delicious, it doesn't give the curry spice the center stage.   For the true curry taste, you've got to look to our beloved perfectionists, the Japanese.

Only the Japanese aesthetic is able to recognize and bring out the beauty of a stark, singular item, such as a single piece of sashimi atop a small mound of rice.   It is this aesthetic that recognizes the flavor of the curry powder itself, and allows it the opportunity to shine on its own.   In Hawaii, we've adopted Japanese style curry, as our own curry stew, the close cousin of our local style beef stew.  Essentially the same big cubes of beef, hunks of potato, carrot and onions in the a curry based gravy instead of a tomato based one, curry stew is a favorite on plate lunches across the islands.   Alternatively, replace the big hunks of beef with some hamburger, add some peas, and you've got the hamburger curry which is usually one of the best things to get from a lunchwagon.   But while our local style curry is extremely popular, it is sort of a milder version of the original Japanese curry.

Special Mix (Teri Beef, Hamburger Steak, & Beef Curry) at Regal Diner

For the real curry taste, the prefection in a solitary flavor, you've got to have some of the authentic Japanese curry. The Japanese love their curry, especially young kids and teenagers. If you've ever watched the popular anime, Inu Yasha, there is a scene where Kagome first introduces curry to the titular half yokai, Inu Yasha, with great comedic effect. In typical anime over-exaggeration, he runs around screaming trying to wipe the burning spices from is humourously extended tongue. But the small scene is just an example of how common curry is in Japan. You can make it at home, with pre-mixed packages of S&B Golden Curry, something which to me completely outclasses a Hamburger Helper meal. But if you don't know what you're doing, and you want to taste the true essence of curry, done by the masters, the place you want to go is Curry House CoCo Ichibanya.

Corn Salad at Curry House CoCo Ichibanya

When visiting Curry House, you really must begin your meal with a small salad. Besides their extraordinary Japanese curry, Curry House is known for their two salad dressings. Their creamy dressing is one of my favorite dressings in the world. It is a sweet, creamy, slightly miso tasting, dressing. Unlike vinegarettes which can be overpoweringly sour, or blue cheese or ranch dressings which can drown your vegetables in cream, the creamy dressing is light and sweet and seems to augment the natural sweetness of the crisp refreshing lettuce below. You can even buy bottles of it to take home, but I just like having it as a cooling preamble to whet my appetite for the warm, yummy curry to follow.

Kids Curry at Curry House CoCo Ichibanya

As I've mentioned before, curry is very popular with kids in Japan. While my son has difficulty eating the overwhelming spices of Indian curry (which makes us wonder what Indian kids eat), he has no problem with the kids curry at Curry House. The kids curry is remarkably mild, with lots of little fun, kid friendly sides. While mild, it maintains just a hint of the curry flavor, enough for him to enjoy.

Mixed Vegetable Curry at Curry House CoCo Ichibanya

My wife likes the vegetable curry at Curry House. The wide assortment of vegetables, especially the hasu (or lotus root), makes for a great texture mix (nothing like horrible, textureless mix of frozen diced carrots, grean beans and corn that you get at most diners). The sweetness of the vegetables also adds to the curry. As my wife does also does not like a lot of spices, she greatly prefers the mild curry at Curry House to going to eat Indian curry. However, even in their mild curry, you can taste the full flavor of the curry powder. The gravy just seems to magnify the true curry taste, with the perfect Japanese rice gives it a warm soft body to enjoy.

Chicken Katsu Curry at Curry House CoCo Ichibanya

For me, nothing will do except the spicy curry. Although it's spicier, the spices do not at all overwhelm the taste of the curry powder. In fact, it's not really spicy at all to me, it's just enough to give the curry powder a little kick in beginning, something that wakes up your taste buds so that they recognize the lingering curry powder taste to follow. In Hawaii, the combination of curry and chicken katsu has become extremely popular, from plate lunches to real Japanese food. Curry House naturally does it the best. There is just something about the crunchy, fried, batter of the chicken katsu as it is just on the point of softening in the warm curry gravy (it's similar to putting crunchy cereal in milk). Although it is a contrast, it seems so harmonious. It's probably the reason that curry croquettes and curry doughnuts are so popular at Japanese bakeries, like St. Germain or Panya. Even the plating at Curry House is perfect. Unlike at certain plate lunch places where they just pour curry stew all over the chicken katsu, which eventually leaves it soggy if you're taking it out to eat, the katsu is positioned so as to maintain its crunchiness while just dipping its toes into the curry for artful aesthetics. The curry to katsu ratio is then yours to control and enjoy. It is a fantastic combination and my favorite dish at Curry House.

If you're feeling hungry, you can also order a slightly larger portion of rice with your curry (400g instead of 300g). The fact that they measure the weight in grams of course throws us Americans off, but suffice it to say the 400g is nicely satisfying. I remember when Curry House first opened many years ago, they had one of those eating challenges (like the ones seen on Man vs. Food). It was I think 1000g or something like that, which was roughly equivalent to a whole small pot of rice and curry. I guess the local blalahs could eat much more than they were expecting, because they no longer offer the challenge. It's too bad, because I do love their curry so, that I did want to try it one day. It's probably for the best, and I'll always have my 97 second spaghetti eating days.

Calpico at Curry House CoCo Ichibanya

When eating Indian curry, my wife always has to cool her tongue with a yogurt based Indian lassi. Although this isn't necessary while eating the mild curry at Curry House, there is a Japanese sweet yogurt drink that just goes great with their curry. I, of course, am referring to Calpico. There is just something about the mild, sweet, ever so slight tang, and milkiness of Calpico that reminds me of all the wonderful Japanese candy (like Fusen gum) that we used to have when we were kids. The sweet taste of Calpico is almost comparable to ice cream sodas or New York egg cremes, but as its not carbonated its much easier and smoother to drink. The sweet reminder of childhood, emphasizes how popular curry is with Japanese youngsters.

Indian and Thai curries may be delicious and have worldwide notoriety, but for the ultimate, quintessential, true curry flavor, nothing beats Japanese-style curry. As popular as it is with the youth of Japan, we're so lucky to grow up with and enjoy it here as well.

Bollywood Bliss

2009-12-13T09:37:00.000-10:00

Having developed a taste for Indian cuisine, I was determined to find the best, most authentic Indian food on the island. My quest brought me back to the University area, around Puck's Alley, and McCully, where you will find the greatest congregation of Indian places in town. My hypothesis for this phenomenon is twofold. Firstly, college students are usually the most adventurous eaters, just beginning to spread their wings and explore the world around them, and since the Beattles free love era, Indian food has been a favorite alternative cuisine. Secondly, and probably more significantly, our biggest Indian population in the islands is probably comprised of the Indian foreign exchange students who come to UH and HPU, seeking a technical education and the prospect of a better life. This population was most affected shortly after 9/11, when the government began restricting visas from Muslim countries, something that immediately affected UH and HPU considerably. Luckily since that time, the Indian students have been returning and with them the demand for good Indian food.

Spice Display at Cafe Maharani

Although there are quite a number of Indian places in the University area, not all of them are good. Indeed, it is in this area, that I had first tasted Indian food, and found the various forms of baby mush they served so unappealing, that I almost never tried Indian food again. Luckily after experiencing the spices and textures of really good Indian food, I was compelled to seek out the authentic good stuff. This search for spices, lead me to a tiny little place called Cafe Maharani. Cafe Maharani is a very small little hole in he wall, next door to Down to Earth on King St. Being so small, and being such a popular place with the University crowd, every time I've been there, there's been a considerable wait both for a table and for the service. But the food there, is worth the wait (just be sure you're prepared for a nice leisurely 2 1/2 hour dinner). While you're waiting, you can watch the insane, colorful, kooky Bollywood videos on their various TVs. As a child of the '80s, and therefore a big Michael Jackson fan, I just can't help but be fascinated by the over the top choreography, and beautiful, exotic, bejeweled and veiled women in these outlandish musicals. Their decor is filled with exotic wood carvings, ornate rugs, and intricate bronzeware. Even their glasses are metal goblets, instead of glassware, something I really like, because the water somehow tastes colder and more refreshing coming from a chilled bronze goblet. Some videos, pretty India decor, and good conversation pass the time as you wait for the intoxicating spices which compell you to stay.

Naan Bread at Cafe Maharani

The most essential component of any Indian meal is the bread. We aren't talking about the many fluffy soft breads of the French Boulangiers, but several forms of unleaven bread that make pita bread seem like cheap fast food fare. The Indians, have naan, chapati, roti, and several others each with their own textures. Big huge rounds of naan, which are roughly the size of a small hand tossed pizza, are my favorite. The I love the crisp texture and chewy interior of the naan bread, and the one at Cafe Maharani is better than almost any other I have ever tasted. As per true Indian etiquette, this bread is big enough to tear off pieces, which you can use to pick up your food in lieu of utensils.

Roti Bread at Cafe Maharani

Roti bread is excellent as well. The texture of this bread is a little tougher, a little less chewy, and has more of a whole wheat grain taste to it. What really makes this bread nice though, is the garlic they bake into it, and the butter that they glaze it with. It make it distinct from the naan, but just as delicious.

Saffron Rice at Cafe Maharani

Besides the bread, being in Hawaii we pretty much must eat rice, or it isn't a meal. Since my Po Po's time, all other foods are basically meant to accompany rice, and not the other way around. But the rice served at an Indian restaurant is not the soft white calrose rice that we're so used to. Nor is it the sticky rice of Thai restaurants that shares kinship with Japanese mochi. It is a lightly scented, lightly oiled, saffron rice, that is in of itself something different and intriguing to us locals.

Lamb Masala Curry at Cafe Maharani

The first dish that I must try whenever visiting any Indian restaurant is the lamb masala curry. As I've mentioned before, it is the dish that really made me first love Indian food, during a midnight munchies run on the streets of London. To me, it is the quintessential Indian dish, representative of everything that makes Indian food so enticing. Although we call it a curry, curry powder is but one of the myriad of spices that comprise this heady melange. Lamb masala is like a perfume, with different, distinct nodes that follow one another. The top node, or first node, is a flash of black pepper and other spices that hit the tip of your tongue waking up the rest of your taste buds. The second node, is that tender, savory, lamb flavor. To some people, the gaminess is off putting, but to me the gamier the better. If I'm eating lamb, I want it to taste like lamb, distinct from beef, and full of lamb flavor. The bottom node, is the gravy that lingers and warms your tongue with the savory oils and fleeting spices. Although the curry I had in London is a favorite that is forever etched in my memory, the one at Cafe Maharani is very similar, and easily as classic. If you're in the mood for something even spicier, the vindaloo at Cafe Maharani makes the masala even seem bland in comparison.

Prawn Malai Korma at Cafe Maharani

Bringing kids with you to eat Indian food is somewhat daunting. While the allure of the dozens of spices is irresistable to me, they are nearly overwhelming to a younger palate. Of course, this always leads me into a discussion with my dad about what the little kids in India must eat, and if a spice preference (or tolerance) is really a matter of exposure and environment. In any case, our server told us that the prawn malai korma is the most popular dish for younger guests at Cafe Maharani. After tasting it, I can see why. It is an incredibly mild, somewhat sweet, coconut milk based sauce that is almost the exact opposite of the intensely savory masala. With the addition of a few sweet raisins, the dish is very kid friendly. In fact, with the slight tomato taste, a few black olives, and the very mild Indian cheese (which is almost like cottage cheese in taste), it is almost reminiscent of a slight pizza flavor. While that sounds disconcerting, it also explains the appeal to kids.

Vegetable Navrotten Korma at Cafe Maharani

The vegetable navrotten korma, may look similar to the prawn malai korma, but actually tastes quite different. Here is the return of the dozens of spices, and in fact is a bit hotter than the masala itself. But this korma brings with it the contrasting flavors of the sweet raisins and coconut, as well as all the contrasting textures of the mixed vegetables. While I very much enjoy this dish, I prefer the aloo palak, which is a potatoes and spinach mixture reminiscent of creamed spinach or squid luau in texture. However, while similar in consistency, the aloo palak lacks the fatty cream taste of a true creamed spinach like the one at Ruth's Chris', and replaces it with more spices. Somehow the dark green of the spinach, better offsets all of these gravies and sauces.

Tandoori Chicken at Cafe Maharani

Probably the best dish at Cafe Maharani though, is their incredible tandoori chicken, baked in their authentic tandoor oven. Now, in the past, I have really disliked tandoori chicken, because at the other places I've tried it, the chicken is remarkably dry and tough, and somewhat bland, indicitive of vast overcooking. Just because it is bright red, does not make it flavorful, and being incredibly dry is just about the worst thing you can do to a chicken. The tandoori chicken at Cafe Maharani changed all of that for me. For the first time, I understood what tandoori chicken as all about. Here was a whole chicken, which was juicy and tender, and almost reminiscent of a good huli huli chicken in texture. But instead of the subtly sweet and smokey huli huli sauce, you've got a barrage of no-nonsense spices and slight lime kick. As you tear into this chicken with your fingers, and wrap it with naan bread, you can't help but lick the spices and juices running down your fingers, feeling like a Sikh warrior, feasting before an elephant mounted charge up the Khyber Pass.

Mango Lassi at Cafe Maharani

All of these spices can get a little overpowering, especially for my wife who really doesn't usually like a lot of spices in her food. So whenever we go to Cafe Maharani, my wife frequently cools her tongue with the sweet cooling yogurt of an Indian lassi. You can get them plain, or rose-water flavored, but being a local girl, the mango flavored lassi is definitely the way to go.

Not since the sandworms of Planet Arrakis, has spice been as all encompassing and all enticing to me as at Cafe Maharani. The spices there are both the mark of allure and authenticity.

Fijian Indian Food

2009-12-12T11:32:00.000-10:00

To tell you the truth, I never really cared for Indian food when I was younger.   I ate it.   But I was never really fond of it. First of all, I am famously not a fan of beans.    I don't like the starchy powdery texture that beans, legumes, and lentils all have.   Indian food, it seemed was just about all various forms of legumes and lentils.  When ordering a plate, I would have some rice, and maybe 4 different dishes, each of which seemed like a different color of baby food.   It all looked like mush to me, and didn't even have a nice creamy texture, but one of mashed beans. Suffice it to say, I was not impressed. It wasn't until I was much older that I found out what I was eating, was Indian fast food.   Very poor Indian fast food at that.  The real thing is totally different, and is a cuisine filled with different colors and textures, and dozens upon dozens of different spices.

The first time that I ever had really good Indian food, where I found myself really adoring Indian food, was one the epicenters of Indian cuisine.   London, England.    Wait, London, England?   Aren't the British notorious for bad food and the most unadventurous palates on the planet?   Well, yes, but for centuries, the British Empire had colonies that stretched around the globe (thus the phrase, "the sun never sets on the British Empire").   The crown jewel of the British influence in Asia, was of course India. What people don't realize, is that although the British were there as a colonial power with their heal down on the Indians, there was a backwash of Indians that came to London.   A very big population in fact.   So it should be no surprise, that Indian food is done really well in London.

There I was in London, England, the first stop on a long European tour with my sister. We were only spending one day in London, so not very much time to explore.   Naturally the tour serves us some really awful food. It was an extremely bland and dry chicken.   It was so tasteless, that I feared for the food on the rest of the trip.   Unsatisfied and hungry later that night, I decided to sneak out of the hotel in search of some real food.   It was 11:00 PM, but the sun was just beginning to set. So we were walking around in essentially late afternoon sun, and we came across a little Indian place. Feeling curious we bought some and brought it back to our hotel.   It was simply amazing. To begin with the bread was unlike any other unleaven bread I had ever had.   It was crispy on the outside, and the thin inside was chewy. Much chewier and doughier than any pita bread I had ever eaten. But the thing that I just adored was the lamb masala. Spicy couldn't even begin to describe the number of different spices I could detect.   It was peppery.   It had so many distinct nodes of flavor.   The lamb itself was really tender, slightly gamey (with that distinctive lamb taste), and oh so delicious.   I didn't think I would ever taste Indian food like that again. But I was wrong.

During a rather unpleasant stint I had in Seattle, when my Po Po was there for medical treatment, we decided to wander around the area near the University of Washington.   For me, walking around was more about clearing my head and dealing with my Po Po's illness, than it was about exploring and seeking new things, as is my usual modus operandi. But we found our way into a little Indian restaurant, right outside of UW, and I found myself having a plate of that very lamb masala over jasmine rice.   Somehow the spices and the flavors put a little spring back in my step.   It wasn't at all what I would call comfort food. But somehow, it was comforting enough, that I could refocus on supporting my Po Po.

When I got home, I was determined to find some place that I could enjoy Indian food here.   I would no longer stand for having lousy Indian mush passing itself on as real Indian food.   But at the same time, I really wasn't familiar enough with Indian cuisine that I could walk into any restaurant and know how to order the good stuff.   Unlike with Korean food, I didn't have Indian friends to take me to try their authentic favorites.   So I searched and experimented, and finally I found a place that made really good Indian food, accessible to everyone. But the key was to go on a Friday or Saturday night, when they would offer an Indian food buffet.   The place was right on the edge between Chinatown and Downtown Honolulu, on the corner of King St. and Smith St., simply called Zaffron.

Lunch Buffet at Zaffron

The owners of Zaffron, are Indian, but they're not from India. In fact, they're from Fiji. Somehow, this didn't phase me, as one of my best Korean friends spent her childood in American Samoa, and I am a little Chinese boy from Hawaii. The fact that people are away from their source countries, tends to make them cherish and celebrate their culture more. Besides that, like Keo's did with Thai food, I was perfectly satisfied that the Indian flavors presented there, were based upon the family recipes of this particular Indian family (from Fiji). But the moment I tasted their lamb masala curry, it brought me back to London, and to Seattle. It wasn't exactly the same. It was a little milder than the incredible melange of spices in London, but it was just as savory. It was my favorite thing on their dinner buffet. Recently, they have begun offering a full lunch buffet as well, in which the lamb masala does not appear. But it does have a wide variety of other tasty things.

Naan Bread at Zaffron

To begin with, they offer you a piece of that wonderful naan bread that I remember from London. It is crisp on the outside, and nice and chewy on the inside. It is the perfect for tearing off pieces and using them to pick up your food, no utensils required.

Lunch Buffet at Zaffron

They have quite a selection of vegetables. Yes, they still have many of the lentils that I wasn't so enamoured with to begin with. But they've also got leafier vegetables and things with more texture and crunch. They have a very nice okra dish that has beautiful wheel shaped cross sections of okra. My favorite is their cabbage, which like kalua pig and cabbage or corned beef and cabbage, retains the crunch of the cabbage while absorbing the savoriness of whatever it's cooked with.

Buffet Plate at Zaffron

They've got a good selection of curries. Of course they've got a good chicken curry, but what always surprises me is their fish curry. I've never really thought of Indian food as utilizing a lot of seafood. Lamb, beef, and chicken, yes, but I never really associated seafood with Indian food. To my surprise, the fish curry at Zaffron is one of the best things there. Somehow the tenderness of the fish absorbs the oils and spices in a way that the other meat and foul do not. The other big surprise is their egg curry. The eggs taste almost like an omelette that my Po Po used to make. Sort of an Indian variation on egg fu yung. It kept me wanting more and more.

Plate of Seconds at Zaffron

Of course you must top off any Indian meal with a cup of chai tea. Chai has become so popular now, you can pick up a cup from any Starbucks on the corner. But the difference with getting it at Zaffron is the intensity of the spice mix. It's a sweet, milky, cinnamony pleasure. For some reason though, drinking chai always reminds me of Christmas. It's probably the cinnamon, or the combination of sweet and milky. But the precise spice mix used in good chai, always reminds me of holiday spices and the smell of baking desserts.

Chai Tea at Zaffron

Buffets are usually not the best quality for food, since they sit there and get cold or overcook, and many places pass off quantity for quality. At Zaffron, however, the buffet is a wonderful way to expose yourself to something new, to try new flavors and taste sensations, and explore a different culinary culture. I can't attest that they're the most authentic Indian cuisine, but somehow you can taste the family, the ohana, in their recipes.

Exotic Adventures (in the Land of the Free)

2009-12-10T04:29:00.000-10:00

In Hawaii, a single person can really effect our culinary landscape.   We have so many celebrity chefs and restauranteurs from Alan Wong, to Chai, to Eddie Flores.   But when it comes to Thai food, the one name that pioneered the genre is Keo Sananikone.    Prior to his arrival, we really didn't have much of a Thai scene. Then, in the early 80's, the Vietnamese and Thai restaruants started opening up. But the difference is, there were many little mom & pop Vietnamese restaurants.   With Thai food, there was Keo, and everyone else who followed him.

Keo was the chef, and his sister Nancy was the businesswoman.   They had a dream.   They wanted to bequeath each of their children one restaurant. This is a great inheritance, because unlike a lump sum of money or a house, this continously provides for financial security so long as the restaurant does well. So they began a restaurant empire, that included Mekong, Mekong II, Keoni's, and of course, Keo's.   I still remember the first time I visited the original Keo's on Kapahulu Avenue.   I was immediately struck with how beautiful the restaurant was.   Around every corner was a gilded Thai statue. At every table, there was a virtual waterfall of cascading orchids.   On every wall, a striking black and gold Thai relief.   And of course, the food was as beautiful, as exotic, and as delicious as its surroundings. They also had a second location in Ward Center.   But both of these locations have closed, to open their current location in Waikiki. Now, most locals would never go to Waikiki to eat, because of the traffic and inflated tourist prices, but for Keo's I would gladly make an exception.

Keo's food was based on the Sananikone family recipies. Virtually every Thai restaurant in Hawaii, has tried to emulate (with varying degrees of success), their dishes.   Because of this, Thai cuisine in Hawaii is really different from Thai cuisine anywhere else in the country (or the world for that matter).   When I was on the mainland for grad school, around half of my friends were Thai exchange students, and for dinner, we would frequent a little place in Pomona called Sanamluang Cafe.   It was a small, joint that was open til the wee hours of the morning (perfect for a late dinner after a night class), and late at night we would pretty much have the run of the joint.  The restaurant was also a pretty dirty hole in the wall, and didn't have the beautiful decor and ambiance of Keo's. It was more like a cheap, Chinatown like, greasy spoon which was perfect for college kids.     Their menu was also so different from everything that I was used to at home.   The dishes I had there like pad ka paow, rahd nah, and larb weren't things I would find at home. On the other hand they didn't have many of the dishes that we would get at home, which were all based on Keo's sensuous recipes which are as elegant as they are mouth watering.   The case in point, is his signature dish, the Evil Jungle Prince.   Based off of his own blend of Panang curry, the prince is very spicy, with a brilliant combination of herbs and coconut milk, which marries perfectly with the beef and vegetables. There is no way to describe how good this dish is, if you haven't tasted it.   Almost all Thai restaurants in Hawaii try to emulate it in some way, with variations on the name like "evil prince" or "evil shrimp" or something like that. You find it all over in Hawaii, but no where else on the mainland, demonstrating just how much Keo influenced our Thai cuisine here.

Evil Shrimp at Chiang Mai

While Keo's is the definitive Thai cuisine in Hawaii, their location in Waikiki is a little prohibitive to locals. Although I would gladly go there on a special occasion, I would prefer to remain outside for an everyday dinner. Which leaves, the Mekongs or one of Keo's many emulators. My favorite of these is a little Thai place right next to Old Stadium Park on King St. called Chiang Mai. The restaurant is just as beautiful as Keo's, replacing the guilded statues with wooden ones and some of the orchids with dangling Christmas lights, and adding those triangular reclining Thai pillows. It is named after a beautiful city in Thailand, which I can tell you first hand is one of the most beautiful places one Earth. Whereas Bangkok is a ultra-smoggy, congested mess, which left me literally unable to breathe, Chiang Mai was lush and tropical, with exotic fruits like rambutan and the infamous, pungent durian everywhere. I adored their night market, which was a bustling hub of activity filled with trinkets and street snacks. I even got to take an elephant ride into the deep jungle there, which is a complety, truly Indiana Jones experience. Somehow, visiting the restaurant in Moiliili recaptures some of that exotic adventure for me.

Green Papaya Salad at Chiang Mai

Like Keo's, you must start out with the green papaya salad at Chiang Mai. Green papaya, isn't anything like it's ripe counterpart. It is tart, but contrasted with a sweet dressing. It's crunchy as an apple. But most of all it's perhaps one of the most refreshing salads in the world. The tanginess just opens your appetite for the rest of the meal.

Pad Thai at Chiang Mai

Also like Keo's, or any other Thai restaurant for that matter, having the pad thai noodles, is an absolute must. I remember when I first tried this dish in the real Chiang Mai. We were visiting a jewelry factory (or something like that), and while my mom was shopping, our tour guide was out back having his own lunch, bought from a little vendor who catered to the factory workers. Curious, and frankly bored with shopping, I wandered around back to hang out with him. He was planning on taking us to some fancy hotel for lunch, but I was curious as to what he was eating, so he ordered me up a bowl. The noodles were unlike anything I had ever tasted. They had a totally different texture from Chinese, or Japanese, or Italian noodles. They were a bit chewier and slightly stickier than Chinese look fun. The sauce had a peanuty, satay kind of taste. I was enthralled, and my family eschewed the hotel lunch entirely, for this common street food. Every time, I have a plate of pad thai from Keo's or Chiang Mai, I'm brought back to that little street vendor, feeding the workers like a thai lunchwagon.

Pineapple Fried Rice at Chiang Mai

Something that Keo's doesn't have, which I really adore at Chiang Mai is their pineapple fried rice. I have been very vocal about how I dislike cooked pineapple, and how anything on the mainland called "Hawaiian" because it's got pineapple in it, instantly throws up alarms. But the pineapple in this fried rice, imbues so much aroma to the rice, it elevates it to a whole other level. It isn't simply a garnish, but the basis of the blend of herbs. It also blends so well with the chicken flavor, contrasting sweet with savory. It is such a harmonious dish, and the pineapple shell presentation is so beautiful and exotic.

Yellow Curry at Chiang Mai

Of course you can't talk about Thai food without talking about curry. They've got 3 basic types, a red curry, a green curry, and a yellow curry, each with a different blend of spices with very different flavors. I personally like the green curry the best, but my dad likes the yellow curry so we always get that for him. He's perfectly happy with a basket of sticky rice (mochi rice that is so sticky you can pull off cohesive pieces and dip in your curry), and a bowl of yellow curry to pour over the rice, and none of the other dishes will matter. The spices are just brilliant over the coconut milk background.

Soft-Shell Crab in Panang Curry at Chiang Mai

My absolute favorite dish at Chiang Mai however, is another dish you can't get at Keo's. In fact, it's not even on their menu, but seems to have permanent residence on their list of specials. It is their awesome softshell crab in panang curry. I love softshell crab. But most places tend to deep fry softshell crab (like in your spider roll sushi), so it loses some of its crab flavor, and tastes fried (like everything else that is deep fried). My favorite place for sauteed softshell crab was in New Orleans, in a little restaurant across the street from the French Market, simply called the French Market Restaurant. It's instantly recognizable by the enormous army pot of crawfish boiling in the window, luring in customers with its enticing scent of cajun spices and savory crawfish. They made the softshell crab crispy, but with a creamy remoulade sauce that perfectly blends with the crab roux in the shell. It was awesome. But the softshell crab at Chiang Mai is just as good if not better. Its difficult to compare, as one is a creamy French sauce, while the other is a spicy Thai curry. But they both bring out the strong crab flavor, rather than burying it deep fried batter. The softshell crab at Chiang Mai however, has the advantage of very crisp, very green, peas and lettuce and Chinese parsley, all of which sit there and absorb the curry and the crab taste. It is a truly awesome dish, and I have had it no where else in the world.

Eating Thai food is always a sensual and exotic adventure, and thanks to places like Keo's and Chiang Mai, we have a uniquely local style and flavor. It is a fantastic addition to our alluring, tropical mystique.

Our First Date

2009-12-08T03:46:00.001-10:00

My wife and I enjoyed a very long, if complicated, courtship before getting married.   We were the classic high school sweethearts.   But more than that, we were friends long before we were a couple.  Other couples have great stories about how they met.   Being classmates, we really have no idea when we first saw each other, or when we first spoke to each ohter, or when we first got to like each other.   We just were just casual acquaintances who said hi to each other in the hall. Then we were casual friends who spoke to each other during breaks between classes. Then we were really good friends who sought out each other's company at friends' parties. Until finally, after a span of several years, we started to realize how attracted we were to each other. In the Summer before our senior year, when our friends from the class above us were all having graduation parties, we found ourselves finding each other at every party and flirting. When school started again, we found each other, for instance, in front of the campfire at senior camp together.   We found ourselves holding hands in the halls between classes.   We found ourselves calling each other on the phone.   Until finally, at my 17th birthday party, I found myself paying more attention to her than to any of my other friends, and I got the nerve to ask her if she wanted to be more than just friends.   A good 2 weeks later, she finally gave me an answer, one that I wasn't expecting.   She said yes.

It was such an interesting relationship to me.   Because in the past, whenever I wanted to call up a girl and ask her out, I was always overwhelmingly nervous.   I would need to rehearse everything I would say in my mind, and work up the nerve, before calling. Yet with her, I felt different.   It felt, easier.   It was really exciting seeing our relationship grow, from friendship to something much more intimate.   But at the same time, it wasn't nerve racking the way it was with other girls, because we were friends first.   It was also, at the beginning, just an easy casual relationship.   We were together, we were attracted to each other, we were flirting all the time, but we really weren't posessive or obsessive. We didn't hog up each other's time. Whenever we had time to be together we would, and we would enjoy it thoroughly. But when we had to do work (and I was studying really hard in my senior year, being in both the full International Baccalaureate and Advanced Placement programs), we would give each other space without any strings.   It was because of this, that I found myself in the predicament of being in a relationship with someone, without having yet taken her out on a real date.   In fact, we were together one month, one week, and a day, before we actually went out on a date.

With all of this build up, I wanted to take her out somewhere really special.   I wanted to take her someplace really fancy. Someplace elegant, and romantic, and kind of more "grown up".   I wanted to really sweep her off her feet.   I didn't just want to do the standard dinner and a movie.   I didn't want to take her to someplace like Zippy's or McDonald's.   I didn't want to take her on any high school type of date.   I wanted to take her on a real date.   The kind you see in the movies.   The kind that you hear music playing in the background the whole night through. The kind that you never forget.   There was only one problem.   I was a poor little high school kid with no money, no car, and no real means to create this awesome extravaganza.   So what was I to do?

It was kind of serendipidous that it also happened to be Christmas time, and you just can't ask for more magical than Christmas.   So I decided, for our first ever date, that I would ask her to see the Christmas lights downtown.   It's kind of funny. We live on a little island in the Pacific, where there isn't any chance of snow whatsoever.   It's chilly to us, but no one on the mainland would consider it cold.   It's nothing like the snow covered wintery scenes that you find on all the Christmas cards. There are no snowmen. There are no sleigh rides. But our little city gets dressed up for Christmas like no other city I've ever seen. I've even been to New York at Christmas, and seen the tree at the Rockafeller Center.   But the coordinated effort and decorations put up all around downtown Honolulu, as part of the Honolulu City Lights program, just seems to outshine all the other places. Best of all, it was free. So we walked.   We walked all over downtown. Walking hand in hand under a starlight sky. We snuggled against each other in the cool night breeze.   The Christmas lights glowed like the light of a million fairies, but they paled compared to the sparkle in her eyes. It was magical. It was romantic. It was perfect.

But besides a leisurely walk around every block downtown, where was I going to take her to eat?   Well, when we were in high school, it just so happened that they had just finished a construction project that combined business offices, apartments, and restaurants, right near the Honolulu waterfront. It was, of course, Restaurant Row, when it was shiny, exciting, and new.  So we walked around all of Restaurant Row, looking at the menus at each restaurant to find something that we both would like, something that didn't looke packed or reservations only, as well as something that I could afford on my meager high school budget.   We finally settled on a casual looking little Italian place, right in the middle, called Trattoria Manzo's.

Manzo's (or Mango's as my wife affectionately likes to call it), was small little place, kind of embedded in by the stairwell next to the parking garage.   It wasn't fancy looking.   In fact the seating was more like a little outdoor cafe, with tables in the open courtyard of Restaurant Row, a little thigh high wall separating them from the outside. But it was still candlelit and intimate.   As an Italian restaurant, it was perfect, because ever since that iconic scene from Lady and the Tramp, no other cuisine evokes the same feeling of romance.   I can't say that I remember their menu precisely.   But I do remember talking her into having the lobster ravioli. After all, how great, how impressive, how memorable would it be, to be able to say I took her for lobster on our very first date.  And their raviolis were really affordable too. As for myself, I remember having the linguini with clam sauce.   Linguini with clams was always one of my dad's favorite dishes, at the finer Italian restaurants, like Andrew's.   So to me, it had a certain sense of sophistication to it, that I was really trying to convey and impress her with. But besides that, I really do love the dish. The sauce garlic butter sauce that it is traditionally made with, rivals the rich buter sauce that they use for escargot. It is a buttery, yet not overpowering, perfect pasta. The food and the ambiance were exactly what I was looking for.

Sadly, Trattoria Manzo's closed many, many years ago.   In the years since then, Restaurant Row has lost some of its glamour. Going from a collection of the most exclusive restaurants, to housing a $1 second run movie theater (that was patronized by less savory, somewhat unwashed characters), to seeing that theater closed down and many of its other stalls lie vacant.   But while some places, like Ocean's, Ruth's Chris' Steakhouse, and Hiroshi's, continue to thrive there, Trattoria Manzo's was among the long lost bygones to its original glory. Trattoria Manzo's was such a small little place to begin with, I wonder how few people even remember the place. It was not a beloved Hawaii icon, the way that Andrew's was. But,it was the perfect little place, on what was easily the most romantic night of my life.   No one else may even remember that it existed, but to my wife and I, it was someplace special that will never be forgotten.

My wife and I have now spent almost 2 decades together, and our life has been a wonderful rollercoaster of highs and lows, one that will hopefully continue for a lifetime more to come.   But every single year since that first one, it has been our tradition to visit the Honolulu City Lights at Christmas.   Of course, these days it has been transmuted from a night of romance for just us two, to a night of wonder with our two little boys in tow. But every year we go to see the twinkling, colorful lights, what I really see is the sparkle in her eyes.

Bon Appetit

2009-12-07T10:07:00.000-10:00

Around the world, the two cuisines that are generally recognized as the world's best, are Chinese and French foods. French culinary techniques are supposed to be the best in the Western world, while the Chinese is supposed to be the root of all good cooking in the East. French cuisine is the basis of my favorite Pixar film, Ratatouille. The very words "restaurant", "menu", and "entree" are all taken from the French language. Even Anthony Bourdain's entire career as a chef was based on his classic French training and execution as the head chef of Brasserie Les Halles in New York. Watching his exploits around the world you get to see him dine at famous French restaurants like Chez Denise in Paris, Thu Vien Biblioteque Cafe in Vietnam, Le Veau D'or in New York, and Au Pied De Cochon in Quebec. When visiting other kitchens, the framework for his culinary analysis is always based in his expertise in French techniques. The only problem, is that I really have no idea what French food is.

It isn't as if there are no French restaurants at all in Hawaii, which I have visited before. When I was a little kid, I did sit and watch Julia Child with my Po Po. I have even travelled to Paris on tour with my sister. But I still cannot seem to comprehend, or distinguish, the flavors, techniques, spices, or classic dishes that really comprise the French cuisine. Whereas in Japanese cuisine, I'm a conniseur of sushi, tempura, teriyaki, and ramen, I have no clue what a cassoulet or a confit is. I am not sure if it is because so many of their techniques have been adopted by the other Western cultures, that they are no longer so distinct, or if I simply haven't had the exposure to recognize what is uniquely French.

Steak and Pomme Frites at Brasserie Du Vin

If you walk into a bistro, the star entree is a steak and pomme frites (french fries), both of which you can easily get at any American restaurant. So what makes it a French dish? You can talk about the really famous things like baguettes or escargot, both of which I really do love. Fresh baguettes have such a wonderful aroma after tearing through the crunchy, flaky crust. Escargot, traditionally served in a garlic butter sauce, are so decadently rich, and the perfect thing to lay on pieces of that French bread.   In fact, the garlic butter is so strong, it usually drowns out any flavor of the escargot themselves.   But you can get baguettes at any Vietnamese restaurant, and escargot at an Italian restaurant. So again, what makes them uniquely French?

I was really excited in junior high, when I was taking an introductory French / Spanish course, and our teacher decided to treat us to lunch at a French restaurant here.   It would be my first exposure to true French flavors, by a guide whose purpose was to teach us about their language and culture. So she took us to a tiny little shop at the beginning of Kalakaua Ave., around the corner from Holiday Mart, called Le Guignol.   The thing I distinctly remember the most about that luncheon was a fantastic appetizer plate of tiny strong pickles (gherkins?), and a beautiful slice of pate.   But I have always loved pate. Even when I was younger, I would love pate on my Vietnamese sandwiches.  Even if we were just making Oscar Mayer sandwiches at home, I would want a schmear of Oscar Mayer braunschweiger to kick it up a notch.   My favorite meal in Paris, in fact was when we just bought some fruits, cheeses, assorted pates and some baguettes and sat in a park overlooking the Eiffel Tower for a picnic.   So it is no surprise that I really enjoyed that pate at Le Guignol.   But I never really thought of it as exclusively French (braunschweiger is German after all).   I also took my wife (then girlfriend) on a date there once. I remember her giving me an incredulous look after having been served french fries at a French restaurant. Aren't french fries really an American thing, you get at McDonalds? Do they really eat french fries in France?  It again cast a doubt of authenticity over our meal, but was it simply because we just really didn't understand what French food was?  Did French immigrants really bring the techique to julienne cut and deep fry the potatoes?   Le Guignol has since moved from Kalakaua to King Street, right across the street from the Neil Blaisdell Concert Hall, making it a very popular pre and post concert venue. But my wife and I have never really gone back there, feeling like we just didn't have the familiarity or understanding of French cuisine to fully appreciate it.

Recently though, for my aunty's birthday, we decided to try another little place, on Bethel St., across from Hawaii Theater, called Brasserie Du Vin.   The very decor of the place looks like a French tavern, something out of a 3 Musketeers movie. Again, I was seeking some kind of affirmation on what was uniquely and authentically French.

Chef's Cheese Plate at Brasserie Du Vin

To begin with, as a French restaurant, you must have a cheese right? Cheese and baguettes. As an ardent lover of cheeses, I was enraptured by their cheese platter. It was easily my favorite thing on their whole menu. A beautiful presentation from hard to soft cheeses and all the variations in between, from salty and sharp, to soft, mellow and creamy, to really soft and pungent. It also had some nice salami, a tart salad, and some dried fruits and nuts to accompany the cheese. I felt just like Remy in that brilliant scene in Ratatouille where they animate the favor combinations of cheese and fruit bursting in his mind. But again, many of these cheeses were Spanish or Italian. So what was uniquely French about this platter?

Moi and Shrimp at Brasserie Du Vin

My aunty, opted for fish and shrimp on her birthday. It was a terrific tasting moi. The skin was fried to just a nice crispness, and the white flesh beneath was flaky and tender. But there are a lot of cultures who cook fish and shrimp, and there was nothing to me that made them distinctly French. Moreover, moi is a Hawaiian fish, once reserved exclusively for the Hawaiian ali'i (or royalty). So this couldn't be a classic French dish, and if the prepartion wasn't so distinct, what made it French?

Pork Tenderloin at Brasserie Du Vin

My wife had a wonderful pork tenderloin. In fact, her dish was perhaps the best entree of the meal. It was remarkably succulent and tender. But again, I wasn't sure what made it distinctly French.

Quail at Brasserie Du Vin

For myself, I opted for the quail. Now quail in itself is not a very common food item. Simply because they are so tiny, that there isn't much meat, and a chicken is far more economical to farm. The quail was exquisitely tender, as befitting a bird of it's size. I loved the greens below, and the orange slices with the tangy sweetness to brighten your palate and contrast the buttery sauce. Julia Child was well known for her prodigious use of butter. Was that what made this dish French? Was it the use of the smaller game bird (although the Chinese have quail dishes as well)? It was delicious. But was it French?

Chocolate Pyramid from JJ's French Pastry

For Aunty's birthday cake, we opted to go to another popular French locale here, JJ's French Pastry, located next to Harry's Music on Waialae Ave. Rather than a traditional cake, we picked up one of their signature chocolate pyramids. Everyone loved the deep, rich, dark chocolate mouse and light cake. Just the thing to top off a nice night of French cuisine.

Maybe French cooking technique has just become so assimilated by the other Western cultures that it all just tastes the same now. Maybe I just haven't yet experienced the epiphany or "voila" moment that lets me understand and appreciate the uniqueness of French cooking. Maybe pate, and escargot, and baguettes really are the touchstones of French cuisine, the way that peking duck and chow mein really are classic Chinese dishes. Maybe for my Uncle's birthday, we'll try Le Bistro in Niu Valley, and I'll continue on my quest for understanding.

Da Poa-Ta-Gee Food

2009-12-06T16:47:00.001-10:00

Although most of the cultures of Hawaii are from Asian origin, the one European group that really did have a strong influence in Hawaii were the Portuguese.   The Portuguese, or as they're affectionately called in Hawaii, "da Poa-Ta-Gee", came to work on the sugar plantations along with the all the others.   As a result, they were one of the few European groups that had a significant contribution to our culture. Even the ukulele, the definitive icon of Hawaiian music, was originally a Portuguese instrument.   When the Hawaiians saw the Portuguese playing this instrument, they gave it the name ukulele (or jumping flea), to describe the rapid finger movements in plucking the strings.

Having such a great influence on our culture, I really wanted to visit and explore a popular, beloved, old school Portuguese restaurant.   The strange thing is, while there are tons of Chinese and Japanese restaurants in the islands, there just don't exisit any definitive Portuguese restaurants anywhere. I can't fathom why, with the large Portuguese population that still lives in the islands, there aren't any true Portuguese restaurants.  Have they simply become so integrated, so assimilated that they no one feels the need to showcase the cuisine of Portugal?   In fact, even though we call them Portuguese, in my mind I don't really associate them with Portugal at all, but rather simply as da Poa-ta-gee, a separate ethnicity local to these islands.

The only significant place that you can purchase Portuguese cuisine, is from the bakeries that they've established long ago.   The most beloved of these are of course, Agnes' Portuguese Bake Shop in Kailua, and the legendary Leonard's Bakery on Kapahulu.  It is from the Portuguese that we developed our love of butter and of sugar (because none of the Asian communities used either of these ingredients in large quantities).   Like all the plantation communities, the Portuguese loved to share their food, and at the start of Lent, the catholic Portuguese needed to use up all of their butter and sugar before the great period of fasting.  In Brazil, this custom lead to what's now called Carnival.   In New Orleans, this custom lead to Fat Tuesday, the beginning of Mardi Gras. In Hawaii, this custom lead the Portuguese to make their beloved malasadas and give them away to their neighbors. Thus in Hawaii, Fat Tuesday is otherwise known as Malasada Day.

Malasadas from Champion Malasadas

Similar to the French beignets (famous in New Orleans) or Mexican churros, the Portuguese malasadas are so prevalent at every school carnival, every state fair, delivered to clients before a business meeting, and all kinds of other occassions that we almost forget that, like the ukulele, they are Portuguese in origin. Of course the famous Leonard's Bakery is de facto place to get them. Their only real competition is Champion Malasada, which as I understand it was opened by ex-Leonards employees, or affiliates, or something of that nature. But while they taste pretty much the same, nothing compares to the history and heritage that you get biting into a malasada from Leonard's. Malasadas absolutely must be eaten hot. Right outside of the bakery, or the tent at the carnival. Having them hot let's you savor the slight crunch of the granulated sugar, the crispness of the exterior of the dough, and the warm, almost gooey softness of the dough inside. You would never want to waste this glorious texture dunking one into your coffee. Once they get cold, the sugar gets absorbed into the dough, and all crispiness is lost, and they just don't taste as good (so you can go ahead and dunk if you want). No other doughnut comes even close to fresh and hot, right out of the fryer, malasada.

Kings Hawaiian Sweet Bread

Of course malasadas weren't the only thing they baked. The Portuguese also contributed another beloved Hawaii staple, the pao doce, otherwise known as sweet bread. In other parts of the world, when people mention sweetbread, they are usually referring to the internal organs (usually pancreas) of calf or lamb. But in Hawaii, when you say sweet bread, we only think of the literally sweet bread made by the Portuguese. Modified from the bread that Portuguese sailors used to bring on long voyages through the Pacific, sweet bread literally has a delicate hint of sweetness to it (though not nearly as overt as a cake). Sweet bread is the most fluffy and pillowy bread in existence. It's almost cotton like texture is to bread, what angel food cake or chiffon is to other cakes. The most famous of these breads is of course from King's Bakery right on King St. and McCully. For decades, the beloved little coffee shop was the best place on Oahu to buy their big round loaves of light airy goodness. It's been a while since coffee shop on King St. closed, but they've expanded their wholesale operation in California and make more bread than ever. If you want to the freshest, locally made bread however, you've got to go to the Big Island, to a little bakery in Hilo called Low International Foods. They shape their sweet bread in a more conventional loaf shape, but they've got many different tropical flavors added to the bread. The best one of course, is the rainbow bread, which has swirls of guava and mango in the sweet bread. A slice of bread itself is a beauty to behold with gorgeous hues of magenta and dreamsicle swirled artistically throughout. The flavoring is very faint, giving only a subtle hint of the fruit to accent the soft bread. It is a true Hawaiian classic.

Redondo's Portuguese Sausage

Of course no mention of Portuguese food would be complete without mentioning linguica, or as it's known here, Portuguese sausage. Like King's being the de facto brand of sweet bread, Redondo's is probably the classic brand of Portuguese sausage. Even though it's got "Portuguese" right in it's name, this local favorite has been so adopted into our cuisine, that I sometimes forget that it is Portuguese in origin. It has such a prefect blend of spicy, slightly oily, meatiness that very few sausages can compare. The only one that is slightly similar in my mind, is a good authentic cajun andouille. The similarity is such that, I have often used Portuguese sausage as a local substitute in many of my cajun dishes with little variation. But this also gives my dishes a uniquely local flavor.

Portuguese Sausage, Sweet Bread, & Eggs

Of course all of these foods combine to make the ultimate local breakfast plate. Even McDonald's offers a supreme breakfast platter including Portuguese sausage and spam. I have always maintained that my favorite local breakfast consists of fried rice, eggs over easy, and Portuguese sausage. But to make it truly Portuguese, you must substitute the fried rice for a big piece of sweet bread. Sweet bread also makes the ultimate french toast. Or just plain slightly toasted sweet bread and butter is a simple but perfect breakfast.

Portuguese Sausage Omelette Sandwich from Zippy's

What I really like though, is combining these elements all together, with maybe a little bit of mayo or some cheddar cheese and making a Portuguese breakfast sandwich. In fact, Zippy's offers a fantastic Portuguese sausage omlet sandwich on a sweet bread roll, for just a few dollars. It is my favorite thing to grab on the way to the airport, before catching one of those early morning neighbor island flights when I have work on the outer islands. But it tastes even better making it yourself, because you can stuff it with as much Portuguese sausage as you want. The combination is fantastic. If there is one meal that the Portuguese just dominate in Hawaii, it's breakfast.

My Own Portuguese Sausage & Egg Sandwich on Sweet Bread

I suppose I should make mention of the other big Portuguese contribution to our diet, Portuguese bean soup. But as a little kid, I just never liked the texture of beans, so I've never been fond of the stuff. But it is most certainly a local favorite.

Although there are no real Portuguese restaurants on island, many Portuguese foods have been so assimilated into our cuisine that we forget that they are European in origin. But perhaps the fact that they are so firmly entrenched, is a sign of just how significant the Portuguese influence has been here.

European Edibles (or Lack Thereof)

2009-12-04T02:22:00.001-10:00

Hawaii has an amazing array of cultures and corresponding cuisines.   Every culture that came to work on our plantations added their uniqueness to our collective heritage. However, while we have a greatly varied mix of cultures, they are primarily Asian cultures.   The European cultures, are far less represented, primarily because having only primarily British and American controlling influences in our history, the other European countries simply didn't have a major presense.   It's true we have our share of Italian food but that is mainly because Italian food has become so popular and pervasive, that it everyone across the country eats it. Even then, our own style of Italian food is somewhat influenced by the Vietnamese restauranteurs who own these places.   Other major European countries, such as the German, Polish, Scandinavian, and Spanish countries have very little presence in our food scene.   Those that do exist are never really challenged in terms of their authenticity, simply because we don't have enough population from any of those countries to dictate authenticity.

Perhaps the most beloved European eatery that was on the island, was a little place in Niu Valley, called Swiss Inn.   For nearly 20 years, the Swiss Inn had a very loyal following in the East Oahu community. It was only a small little neighborhood restaurant, but it is very fondly remembered by its clientele. I only had the good fortune to visit the place once, just prior to its closing.   It was a few years after I had visited Switzerland on tour with my sister, so I was by no means an authority on authenticity, but their wiener schnitzel was absolutely delicious. Weiner schnitzel, despite how the name sounds, has absoultely nothing to do with sausages of any kind (and certainly nothing to do with the hot dog chain on the mainland of the same name).   You could see the influence the dish had on things like chicken fried steak or chicken cutlet, but the herbs they used made it taste exotic and foreign.   Their tart, tangy, and herby potato salad, on the other hand, was just too tart for my taste (and of course completely different from the mac or potato salads that we're used to in the islands).   Even after just one taste, I could tell what drew such a loyal following to the restaurant.   Sadly, it's closing also meant that one of the islands' only true portals into European cuisine was lost forever.    Recently, also in the Niu Valley shopping center, a new little French restaurant called Le Bistro, opened up and I have heard good things about it.   Hopefully they are able to main the same degree of authenciticy, and attract a similar loyal following.

Besides the German influenced cuisine at Swiss Inn, the residents of Kahala always knew when proper European dishes would be offerred for dinner specials at the Patisserie in Kahala Mall. When I was doing my doctoral program at UH, I had a great professor and mentor who was Hungarian by birth. He was an incredibly tall, intimidating man, who swam 2 miles a day in Kailua Bay, and was never afraid to call a spade a spade.   Intrigued about his heritage, I decided to visit the Patisserie for dinner one night when they had Hungarian goulash as a dinner special. Hungarian goulash is entirely different, from the hamburger macaroni that we're served in elementary school of the same name (although I really love that kind of goulash and my wife has perfected making it just for me).   Hungarian goulash is more like a tender but very herby stewed beef dish. The big hunks of beef were quite herby, but tender and beefy. On the other hand, I didn't care for the many types of saurkraut that accompanied the beef and potatoes.   Saurkraut may be one of those very definitive European things that just don't cross over into an Asian palate.   While the Japanese have tsukemono, saurkraut is just too tart for my taste and lacks the sweetness of its Japanese counterpart.   It was a great experience, but sadly the Patisserie closed to make way for the giant Whole Foods that has taken over that side of Kahala Mall.   There are other Patisserie locations, but the dinner specials were really a Kahala thing, and the other locations are much more strictly French bakeries. Although when I was little my mom would occasionally buy eclairs from the Patisserie, I never really cared for the texture of their pastries compared to the Japanese pastries at St. Germains.

On the other side of the island, Aiea residents would frequent the British fish & chips pub called Elephant & Castle. There are a number of restaurants on the mainland with the same name, but I'm not sure that the one in Aiea had any affiliation with any of them.   Despite having a strong British influence during the days of the Hawaiian monarchy, stemming from the influence of Captain Cook, there really isn't that much British influence in our cuisine. Kidney pie is as foreign and somewhat unappetizing to us as it is to our fellow countrymen on the mainland (somewhat ironic since na'au stew is on our Hawaiian menu). So the fish & chips pub in Aiea was one of the few dominantly British establishments.   It's closing, again meaning a loss of representation in our food scene.

We do have a few Irish pubs, namely Murphy's Bar & Grill, and Kelley O'Neal's. But while they are prominent watering holes, I wouldn't stake much claim on the authenticity of their Irish food.   Sure on St. Patrick's day, everyone will crowd into either place for a pint of Guiness and some corned beef & cabbage, but corned beef & cabbage is really the adaptation of Irish Americans that found beef to be plentiful in the new world.   While this doesn't necessarily make the dish less Irish (that's something I would base on its popularity with Irish Americans, and not just the mainstream populace who think it's Irish food), it's not really a dish you would find in celebrations in Ireland itself. For myself, I find that I like the corned beef and cabbage made by the Chinese cooks my favorite little plate lunch place, Regal Diner.   I would much rather go there to have their savory (if somewhat fatty) corned beef, rather than cram myself into a noisy pub. It's actually one of my favorite dishes there.   I guess it just says something about our island when my favorite place to go for an Irish American interpretation of an Irish dish is at a plate lunch place run by Chinese cooks.

Corned Beef and Cabbage from Regal Diner

European food is something that really is foreign and exotic to me. Even in this day and age, geographic differences still do separate and isolate us from some parts of the world. But that just means, there's more out there to explore and enjoy.