Duel of the Garlic Chickens

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

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.

Switch On! 1-2-3!

While Hawaii is politically part of the United States, I've always thought that we're culturally more a part of Japan than anywhere else.   This is true in our food, our customs, and even with our material posessions.  When it comes to shopping for Japanese goods, there were always 2 big names that come to mind: Daiei/Holiday Mart, and Shirokiya.  

We still call it Holiday Mart, even though Holiday Mart gave up its name a long time ago.    That's mainly because we used to think of the location in Pearlridge as "Daiei", and the location by Ala Moana as Holiday Mart.   Every little kid around my age remembers Daiei as the place where Kikaida first came to visit.  There is that famous photo of Pearlridge completely stuffed with little kids waiting to see their favorite Japanese superhero. 

Kids waiting to see Kikaida at Daiei, Pearlridge 1974

I was at the tail end of the Kikaida generation.   I was still in uteral when those kids were lining up, so I didn't quite make it. But thanks to KIKU, I grew up watching Kikaida, Kamen Rider, and most of all Battle Fever.  I collected dozens of Japanese henshin robos from anime and tokusatsu, and still have them to this day.  This pre-dates the Transformers release in America by half a decade, so American releases of mecha were limited to Mattel's Shogun Warriors.   But thankfully, here in Hawaii, not only were we privy to all of the shows the mainland kids never got to watch, but also a slew of imported Japanese toys as well.   Unfortunately this lead to one of the most traumatic experiences of my youth, when visiting Daiei one day and transfixed upon the glorious bounty of colorful die cast metal, I found myself lost and parentless.   I remember turning around and not being able find my mom anywhere.   My rapture was transformed to complete terror, as I raced all around the store trying to find my mom.   I'm not sure how long I was really lost for, but it seemed like an eternity of loneliness and dread.   So while I adored Daiei for its treasure trove of rare imports, my memories are also spashed with feelings of fright and despair. 

While Daiei was one of the cornerstones of old Pearlridge, in Ala Moana it was Shirokiya.   I will always think of Ala Moana as the triumverate of Liberty House on one end, Sears on the other, with JC Penny's in the middle (even if 2 out of those 3 stores aren't there anymore).   But right next to Liberty House was the pillar of Japanese stuff, Shirokiya.   While Holiday Mart was a huge supermarket, Shirokiya was huge department store (neither of which you could easily find on the mainland).   Shirokiya, whose name literally means the white tree store, looked a lot different back then.   Today, Shirokiya is a sparkling white, sleek, modern looking, high tech wonderland, completely in-tune with Japan's modern, bullet train, uber-clean image.   But when I was a little kid, Shirokiya had a lot more wooden look, like the shops of old Edo.  I even remember them even having a rock garden inside.  It was an older, more historical Japanese look. 

The best thing about visiting Shirokiya though, was the food.  My strongest memories of Shirokiya when  I was little, were wandering around, picking up toothpicks with my little hands and picking up samples of all their little treats.   Salty, sticky shoyu glazed konbu.   Those sweet candied dried little fishes.  The bright yellow sour takuan.  The even more sour, but such a beautiful deep reddish purple ume.  Dozens of types of seaweed in different forms.  I loved all of them, and there were so many different things to try.    I also remember them having this huge revolving bin of candies.  Most them are pretty hard to find these days, like those neopolitan coconut sundaes and the milk caramels.   But if there was one thing that I remember most eating at Shirokiya, it was the steamed chestnuts.   I still remember them being in the far right corner, being steamed on the spot so you could smell the chestnuts from across the store.   I remember the red and yellow stripped paper bag that they would hand them to you in.   I would always want one as soon as we bought them, even though they were still very hot, and you had to crack open the dark brown shell to get to the warm white center.   They aren't nearly as crunchy as water chestnuts, but a softer moister nut than any crumbly dry roasted thing.   It's funny that Mel Torme associated "chestnuts roasting over an open fire" with Christmas, when I always associate them as being Japanese.

Shirokiya today is still a bastion of tasting wonderful Japanese imports.   It's the best place to pick up presents like those azuki bean cakes that are perfect to give to clients and relatives you don't know what to get for.  But if anything, their lunch section is even better than it was before.   Now they've got little stations for every different Japanese food.  There is a mochi station, a takoyaki station (those little octopus balls), a tonkatsu station, a sushi station, stations to get fried things like karaage, stations to get Japanese vegetables that you don't see anywhere else.  They've even got Island Manapua Factory at one station and Korean food at another.   Most of all, Shirokiya is my absolute favorite place to get the most authentic Japanese bentos.

Saba Bento from Shirokiya

One of their newer stations makes these very fancy bentos, with tons of different things in it.   I am partial to the saba at Holiday Mart, because that's where I first tasted it, but the saba bento at Shirokiya is such a thing of beauty.   Look at all the colors, the colors!!  From that deep purple okinawan sweet potato, to the light pink of the ginger, to the minty green of the edamame.  They've even got that elusive gobo in the bento.  It's such a gorgeous plate!

Chicken Karaage Bento from Shirokiya

My favorite bento is the chicken karaage bento from middle station.   The chicken is glazed with this ever so sweet glaze which just brings out the crunchy savory chicken.   But what I like most about this bento isn't the main course, but the sides you get.  That is mochi rice, not regular rice, interspersed wih vegetables giving it such a fragrant aroma.  The nishime there is an older style, with much more subtle flavor.   These are much more rural village flavors. 

Mountain Vegetables from Shirokiya

The best thing at that station though, are their mountain vegetables.  My favorite mix, is this bamboo shoot and fern mix.  For the longest time, I had absolutely no idea what those things were. Just looking at them, I thought they looked like Klingon gagh serpent worms, but they're not writhing nearly enough.  They were clearly a vegetable, I thought.  Right?   Well they don't crunch like a vegetable.  They've got a much more subtle texture, like a mushroom.   For a while I actually thought hey might be blood vessels of some sort.   It wasn't until much later, that I was told that they were fern heads.  Whateever they are, or how they look, they taste wonderful, and I would just keep eating them anyway.

Potato Salad from Shirokiya

To top it off, we are in Hawaii, so we need to have some kind of mac salad right?   But in this case, we're talking the original Japanese dish that mac salad is strives to be.   It's almost like a mix between namasu, and mashed potatoes, with a small bit of mayo and maybe miso.  The crunch and the sweet tartness of the namasu style cucumbers just kicks this thing up.  You know what?  Screw, mac salad!   This is what should be served with every plate lunch in town.   This thing is way smoother and way more flavorful than any mac salad around.  

Time marches on.   Daiei is gone now, having been bought out by Don Quixote.   We nearly lost Shirokiya entirely, when it was becoming unprofitable.   But luckily the Japanese corporation sold the store to the local Hawaii managers, and they turned it back around.   In fact, I think their lunch selection is better than ever!   Sometimes, things do get better as time goes by.

The 50's, Hawaii Style

It is juke boxes and fuzzy dice.   It is leather jackets, white T-shirts, and blue jeans.   It is the classic Chevy convertable with the big tail fins.   Images, of course, of the 50's.   Now, not having yet been conceived of in the 50's, I can't tell you for certain if that's really the way it was, or if it's just a figment of our collective dream of the 50's.  When I asked my dad if that's really how it was, he said that it was either a highly romanticized image, or that it's not exactly how it was in Hawaii during the 50's.  

The piece of Americana that we imagine the 50's to be is, of course, epitomized in the classic sitcom, Happy Days.   Henry Winkler's Fonzie has surpassed the status of pop culture icon and found a place in American history.  Ironically, the series was made in the 70's, already 2 decades after the era it portrayed and glamourized.   So I remember watching it as a little kid and imaged myself hopping in the car with Richie and Fonzie and heading off to the ultimate 50's location, Arnold's.  Arnold himself was portrayed by the late and great Pat Morita, who was not originally from Hawaii, but who was here so often and who had so much of our character, that we adopted him as one of our own and never knew the difference. 

So you're in the mood for a patty melt and a milkshake and you want to envision yourself sitting at Arnold's with the gang and listening to the juke box.  If you're on the mainland, you can easily go to a Johnny Rockets, but what about here in Hawaii?    If you're on Maui, you can head down to Ruby's Diner in the Kaahumanu Shopping Center.  When I was in college, my friend took me to the original Ruby's all the way at the end of the Balboa Pier.  It was so sublime to have this 50's style diner all the way at the end of the a long pier, with nothing in sight but the beach and the ocean.   But the one on Maui is unique.  Not only do they have the 40's/50's motif, they've got many posters of old airline and travel advertisements for Hawaii from that era.  That in itself is worth the trip.

But as my dad said, the 50's diner image perpetuated on the mainland isn't really how it was here in Hawaii.   So what was it really like?   The Hawaii equivalent would have to be the soda fountains from that era.   Not only did you have the typical cheeseburgers, fries, and shakes, but you would have saimin, okazu food, and  true fountain drinks.   Soda fountains then meant that the proprietor would mix the drink and the carbonation for you, as opposed to the automatic mixing that goes on in today's soda fountains.   So, if you were a pretty girl for example, you could get a slightly better syrup to carbonated water ratio.  The mix was an art, not the hit or miss that you get from soda fountain machines of today.  I really hate it when the machines are off and you get a drink that's way more carbonated water than syrup, which not only burns your mouth in carbonation but has that sharp metallic taste.  The soda fountains back then even had drinks we hardly hear of anymore.  My dad's favorite was the green river, which was a bright green, lime concoction.   For me though, I used to love the chocolate cokes that my dad used to make.  Never heard of a chocolate coke you say?   It's absolutely awesome.  The chocolate mellows out carbonation, and blends well with the caramel taste of the coke (like a liquid Rolo).   Try it for yourself, all you need is ice, some Coke, and some Hershey's syrup to make it at home.   I never understood why they decided to can cherry coke, and vanilla coke, and even lime coke, but decided to forego my favorite flavor.

So do those soda fountains still exist?  Can they still be visited for a taste of 50's nostalgia, Hawaii style?   A few of them have withstood the test of time.  But the one that best captures that era for me, would have to be Sekiya's across the street from Kaimuki High School.   Poor Sekiya's ran into some trouble a while back, with an e. coli outbeak that shut them down while they had to clean everything up.  Since then, they've been struggling to reclaim their image as people, like my wife, were scared to go back there.    However, with their long history, pre-dating World War II, some fans, like my dad's best friend Keith, were back within a week of their re-opening.   Having been back there myself, I can assure you, it's cleaned up and the food is as good as it always was.

Chicken Sukiyaki at Sekiya's

While 50's on the mainland means cheeseburgers and shakes, 50's here means saimin and okazu.   However, while Sekiya's saimin is good, their sukiyaki is absolutely fantastic.   It is ever so slightly sweet, with all of the flavors of the different vegetables coming through.   The tofu literaly soaks up all of the flavors.  Not only do you get standard vegetables like won bok and shiitake, but you get nice julienne cuts of gobo.   It's so rare to find nice cruncy gobo served anywhere.  I especially had the craving to have some of their awesome sukiyaki after watching a marathon of the Rurouni Kenshin anime, where the characters frequently hang out at the Akabeko Restaurant for gyu-nabe (or beef sukiyaki).

Macaroni Salad at Sekiya's

While I tend to favor St. Louis Delicatessen , Sekiya's is also my dad's favorite okazu-ya.  He adores the bentos that they serve there.  The flavor difference between the two restaurants is very subtle, but he and I are pretty steadfast in our favorites.   I do like Sekiya's bentos though, and I have to admit, that they have some of the most flavorful mac salads in town.

Maki Sushi at Sekiya's

Sekiya's even came through on my little mini-quest to find the good old style maki sushi I used to have as a kid.   Nowdays, with different types of sushi being so popular, it's so hard to find the original Hawaii style maki sushi, with the (canned) shoyu tuna, tamago, kampyo, kamaboko, and the distinctive red and green hana ebi powder.  The filing to rice ratio is a little small at Sekiya's, but it is nice to just have that old flavor that I remember. 

Chicken Sukiyaki Meal at Sekiya's

Rather than the romanticized 50's from Happy Days, I think I prefer the honest true to life 50's that still lives on in Sekiya's.   I am really glad that they're still around, as I would hate to lose the true, classic flavors, that my dad grew up with.

Ode to the Okazu-ya

If the Chinese came to Hawaii and prospered, the Japanese came over and all but took over.   I mean seriously, Hawaii my be part of the United States politically, but culturally, I've always thought we were a subsidiary of Japan.   We take off our shoes when we enter our houses.   We eat with chopsticks much more than forks.  We run around saying things like "ah so desu ka!".   So it's no wonder that we tend to eat a lot of Japanese food as well.   We eat all kinds of Japanese food, from ramen to sushi, from bentos to izakaya.  And often times we take it and make it our own.   Traditional onigiri or musubi is a Japanese rice ball, but add a little spam, and you've got something so unmistakably Hawaii, that it's become almost synonymous with our cuisine.  Mac salad comes with every plate lunch in town, but the original Japanese form uses very little mayo, more miso, and has a much smoother richer consistency almost like mashed potatoes (the salad at Hanaki is a prime example of this style).

When you think of Japanese food that's very local Japanese, perhaps the oldest, most endearing form is the okazu-ya (or the Japanese delicatessen).  Yes, when you're in New York, the deli is a Jewish domain, filled with lox and bagels, knishes, and matzo balls.  But when you're in Hawaii, and we mention a delicatessen, the image immediately appears of the little old Japanese lady, with her white hair tied back with a palaka bandana, scooping out some rice for your bento.   Those little old ladies have been working behind the counter of those restaurants for almost all their lives, and when you see them, you instantly know that it's a mark of quality and expertise. 

There were so many old style okazu-ya's dotted all over town.   The first (and most famous) one that pops into mind will always be Wong's Okazu-ya in Ala Moana.   I always loved this place when I was a little kid, but somehow I remember having more noodles there than okazu-ya style food.   Even though it's gone, many of the old okazu-ya's still survive.   Whenever we're on the Windward side, I'm always checking to see if Megumi restaurant is open.  I know lots of people there like Masa & Joyce, but I always think of their food as more Hawaiian, and Megumi's as more Japanese.   Gulick Delicatessen moved from Guilick Ave. to King St. close by McCully, but believe me they still have the best furikake musubi's in town (they're very generous with the furikake, making the rice almost completely hidden).  Furuya's is good, but kinda pricier.   Even good ol Sekiya's has an okazuya section.    But if you were to ask me which is my absolute favorite okazu-ya, the answer would easily be St. Louis Delicatessen (right across form Chaminade University, next to St. Louis Drive Inn).  

Assortment from St. Louis Delicatessen

They have all the best stuff you can expect from an okazu-ya; maki sushi and cone sushi, musubis, Japanese style fried chicken and shoyu chicken, various types of tempura, nishime, shoyu hot dogs and teri hamburgers, potato hash and various croquettes, and all kinds of other little goodies.   Their tempura is the older style of tempura, not the modern flaky panko batter tempura, but kind that is more like andagi batter tempura.  This style, much more common in the 50's, is rarely seen these days.

Chow Fun at St. Louis Delicatessen

The real surprise though, is their incredible chow fun.   I mean, seriously, look at them. They look like plain white noodles, with a few shreds of carrot and green beans.   It looks like it would be completely bland. There's not even the hint of a shoyu color or oil.   But these noodles are amazingly flavorful.   It's not just salt.  They've got some Japanese seasonings that I can't even begin to break down.   But they're simply ono, and the star of any meal there.

Assortment from St. Louis Delicatessen

I'm not even sure if they have okazu-ya's in Japan ("okazu" is a side dish to accompany rice in Japanese, and "ya" is a store), or eateries specializing in these dishes.  But even if they do, like the spam musubi, through time they've really been adopted into our own culture.