Much Mahalos: Part III - Smothered with Love

As a Thanksgiving Treat, I thought I would share my recipe for the seafood etouffe, I made on Thanksgiving.   I say share my recipe, but that's not entirely accurate, because I never cook with a recipe.   To me, cooking is all about expression, like painting or playing the piano.  Every time I cook something, I add things dependant upon how I feel that days, and the flavors that I want to try to coax out the food.   So I hate following recipes, which to me, rob the creative aspect of cooking.   But if you want to follow what I did, I'll be happy to share.    

Etouffee is a French / Creole dish that I learned in New Orleans.   It literally means to "smother", so basically it is a seafood dish where the seafood is smothered with a rich buttery gravy.   You can use any type of seafood really, although the classic preparation uses Mississippi mud bugs, otherwise known as crawfish.  Since crawfish is actually somewhat difficult to come by here in the islands (I've only ever seen frozen crawfish tails at Daiei), I've substituted some other mixed seafood.

Here's what you'll need (notice the precise measuring system I use):

Ingredients for Seafood Etouffee

Some Seafood - In this case the seafood mix at Daiei (now Don Quixote).  
Some Garlic (minced or whole is fine)
Some butter
Some flour
Some plain tomato sauce (not spaghetti sauce or tomato paste)
Some cajun seasonings, in this cause I've used Big Kevin's Bayou Blend, but your favorite blend will work


So here's what you do:

Melt a stick of butter in a saucepan on LOW heat (I'd say around 30% heat works fine).  I know, I know.  An entire stick of butter sounds really unhealthy for you.   Yes, you can substitute something like Country Crock, I've done it before.   But seeing as how this was Thanksgiving, I didn't feel like holding anything back, so I opted for the real thing, for the real full bodied taste.    At least I didn't go completely old school and use pure lard.

As in all classic French of Cajun cooking, you start with the phrase, "make a roux".  If you don't know what a roux is, it's basically the basis for all gravy in the world.  You start with the melted butter.  Then, very slowly you sprinkle in a little bit of flour, all the while stirring very vigorously.   I can't stress this enough, you have to stir like a mad scientist on speed.  If you're not meticulous in your stirring, your roux will have chewy little lumps in it, not at all what you want.   Keep sprinkling in flour and stirring like crazy until you get the consistency of pudding (or better yet, 1 finger poi). 

Next you can sprinkle in some minced garlic.  If you like garlic like me and my wife, you want to add a lot.  Unfortunately, my uncle doesn't like garlic, so I limited myself to 2 butter knife bladefuls.  But feel free to add more.  You want to brown the garlic in your roux.  But all the while, you want to keep stirring (although you can stir a little more slowly now).  Never let a roux sit still or it will burn.  You must keep stirring even if it feels like your arm will fall off.   When your roux is the color of a shiny new penny, then you're done.

When your roux is ready, you can add in your seafood.   I used 3 mixed seafood trays from Holiday Mart (I mean Don Quixote).  These trays have a nice assortment of squid, little clams, some shirmp and other goodies.  The best thing is that they're remarkably cheap.   Each tray is only around $3.  You can't beat that for seafood!   Of course if you can, get langostinos or crawfish tails, for the real authentic dish.

After dumping in your seafood, add in your cajun seasonings.   Most cajun seasonings are primarily paprika, but there are many different blends.   The one I use, Big Kevins, I actually get shipped in from my cooking school in New Orleans, so you know that the taste is authentic.   One thing that they taught us in class, is to be liberal when adding seasonings.   I think I dumped in roughly a quarter cup or so.   Again, this is where personal expression and taste comes in to play.

Stir your seafood around for just a minute or two.   Just long enough to cook it "rare".   Then you can cover the whole thing with your tomato sauce.  I used about 2 cans.

Stir it all together.  Then, put the lid on and let is simmer for a while on low heat (I'd say around 10% heat).

The whole recipe is pretty simple (once you get the hang of making a good roux).   And it's pretty fast to cook too.   Total time is only about 20 minutes.   I would say before you start making this, start cooking your pot of rice.   When the rice is done, your etouffee can stop simmering, and you're ready to serve it over the rice.

Of course cooking is a big thing in my family, as everyone (except my dad) cooks at least 1 dish for Thanksgiving (and all major holidays for that matter).  For better or worse, I learned to cook the same way that my mom does.  She never follows a recipe either, and every time she cooks something there is always some slight variation to it.   When she cooks something that comes out really well, she always makes the claim that she's not sure she can ever recreate it, but we know that while it may never be exactly the same, it will still taste great.   I really wanted to pass on this passion for cooking to my children, who already love playing with miniature pans and plastic food.  So this Thanksgiving I encouraged my son to cook his first pot of rice, to go along with my etouffee.   I can't wait for the day, when I can use him as a sous chef to prep everything for me and wash up afterwards.

The seafood etouffee is a spicy, savory, buttery melange that you just can't get easily here in the islands.  Sometimes, when you want something truly special, you just have to make it with your own hands.

Much Mahalos: Part II - 3 Generations Full

While my wife's family always brought Thanksgiving dinner home from Kenny's Restaurant, Thanksgiving dinner for my family was always about cooking at home.   When I was very little, we would actually have 2 Thanksgiving meals.   We would go over to my mom's family for a Thanksgiving lunch, which would be a full turkey meal in and of itself.  Then at dinner time, we would go down to my dad's family for a second, entirely complete turkey meal.   It was a little bit excessive, and when my sister was born, after a many years of having 2 Thanksgiving dinners and being stuffed beyond the capability for free movement, my mom decided to host Thanksgiving dinner, and have everyone come over to our house.   Everyone was a little reluctant at first, but eventually everyone conceded (mainly for the sake of my sister and I).   Eventually, having both of my Po Po's together at the same meal, became one of those really rare and cherished memories that I truly truly treasure.  It was like one of those crazy TV crossovers, like the Jetsons meet the Flintstones, where 2 entirely separate but wonderful universes collide and you're left with a thrilling, dizzying, all kapakahi good feeling.  Those were some of my warmest memories of my youth. 

Even though everyone began coming over to our house for Thanksgiving dinner, everyone still wanted to bring their classic dishes to the meal.   This lead to our most prominent of family traditions, having each one of us cooks one dish for our meal.   It's kind of like a pot luck, except that we're all in one family, and we are kind of aware of each person's niche.   Even when I was very, very little, I tried to create some sort of dish to bring to the table.   Unfortunately, this lead to my most noxious and infamous creation, my attempt at making "weenie gelatin", something that I had discovered Jon making in a 1984 Garfield comic.  While later in life I would discover pates, headcheeses, and other terrines, my concoction was barely edible, and one of those humbling failures that your family never ever lets you forget.   Luckily, I have since then made up for it with some very satisfying dishes.  My first ever successful dish in fact was at Thanksgiving, when I learned to chop carrots, celery, onions, a little chinese parsely, and simmer it with chicken stock and bread crumbs to make some decent turkey dressing.  These days my contributions have been a little more seasoned and practiced, but I still like to use holidays like Thanksgiving to innovate new dishes for my family to try, sometimes more successfully than others.

Thanksgiving Dinner 2009

When my Po Po's passed away, our family dinners seemed to get considerably smaller, and it always felt like something was missing at the dining table.  But since I've been married, and had babies, they have been breathing new life into our old traditions.  It seems like the magic number is to have at least 3 generations at the table, to make it feel like a true family dinner.  This year was my youngest son's first Thanksgiving, so it made the occasion extra special for us. 

Mom's Turkey 2009

Although when I was very little, I remember my Po Po cooking the turkey, for the majority of my life, it has been my mom who made the star bird.  As much as I loved my Po Po's cooking, somehow my mom's turkey tastes even better than my Po Po's did.   My mom's seasoning is just a simple salt and pepper base, but it is always perfectly seasoned to bring out the natural taste of the turkey.  What makes her bird so supreme, is the flawless execution, with even the white meat being extremely juicy and tender.  Turkey is not easy to do right, as it can very easily become dry, but my mom's is unbelievably succulent.  The best part of course is that crispy, salty, delicious skin where all of the flavor is intensely packed.   I am not sure what her secret is, although I do know that she insists upon using the Honeysuckle White brand, as she claims it leads to a moister turkey. 

Turkey Tail, The Best Part!

Even though we've having the same main course as across the country, my favorite part of the bird is something that is generally a Hawaii thing.   My favorite part (which was always my Goong Goong's favorite part too) is the turkey tail.  The turkey skin itself is already a crispy golden, highly seasoned intense goodie alone.  But on the turkey tail, this is concentrated and made even than any other part.   The meat in the tail is supremely tender, as it is probably the fattiest part of the turkey. Inside the very center of this uber tender, juicy meat, are small deposits of fat, which makes eating the tail equivalent to siu yuk (roast pork) or kau yuk, where you have a layer of skin followed by alternating layers of fat and meat.  It's not exactly healthy for you, but it tastes like heaven, and this is Thanksgiving so you might as well enjoy yourself.  While renaissance fairs across the country feature huge turkey drumsticks to enjoy, in Hawaii it is the turkey tail that reigns supreme.   I have seen it sold all over Kalihi, where it is served fried, and all over Chinatown, where it is served char siu style.   However, buying turkey tails from any store is never very good, because they somehow make it very tough and chewy.   What should be the moistest, most tender part of the turkey is almost like jerky, and the fat inside becomes unappetizingly crunchy and congealed.  I don't know why no one else seems to be able to get this delicacy right, but Thanksgiving night is the only night I know I am able to enjoy it.   This piece is just the pinnacle of Thanksgiving to me.

My Cajun Seafood Etouffee with Basmati Rice

For my contribution this year, I opted to dip into my training in cajun cuisine and simmer a buttery seafood etouffee.  I ususally make a side dish like a stuffing or fried rice that goes well with the Turkey.  Being a Chinese family, I often involve some sort of seafood.   Many of the Chinese families I know don't consider a Thanksgiving dinner complete without some big succulent prawns.  This year, I wanted something spicy, buttery, and yummy to add to the meal.  Wanting to pass on our family's Thanksgiving, I decided to have my eldest son help me cook.   So this year, I guided him in washing and cooking his first pot of rice, entirely on his own.   I must say, just knowing that he did it made it taste all that much better to me.

My Wife's Chinese Style Green Beans with 4 Mushroom Vegetable Medley

My wife usually contributes a vegetable dish to the mix.  Her favorite is a mixed vegetable creamy casserole, but this year she decided on green beans, done Chinese style, with a beautiful blend of 4 mushrooms, and topped with crunchy French onions.   It sounds complicated, but really it took her 15 minutes to execute.  She did it absolutely perfectly too, with the green beans being perfectly crisp.   Usually when green beans are too underdone, they have a squeaky quality between your teeth, and when overdone they become limp and soggy.  Hers were the ideal texture, and the little bit of oils and sauces that she used did nothing to mask the full green bean flavor.

My Aunty's Mashed Potatoes

My aunty usually makes the mashed potatoes as well as some kind of vegetable dish as well.  This year, she stuck with just the potatoes, which she was intending to brown on top as a last minute touch, but didn't have time.   Her potatoes need no augmentation however, as they are awesome in and of themselves.   As I've mentioned before, I simply cannot stand mashed potatoes in restaurants because they taste like reconsituted powder from a box.   I absoutely must have real potatoes, simply because Aunty has spoiled us all these years.   Additionaly, just as some people like creamy peanut butter and some people like crunchy, Aunty makes her mashed potoates leaving some good sized chunks of potato in there to let you know they're real potatoes.   Upon my insistence, she also leaves in all of those tasty potato skins.  These homestyle potatoes retain all the potato flavor, or as my wife calls it, the "potatoey goodness".  

My mom also makes simply the best turkey gravy in the world.   This gravy is so spectacular, that when I was growing up, I would be satisfied with just the gravy and rice, and nothing else.   It doesn't taste anything like your standard brown gravy from a can.   She starts with all of the dripping from the turkey itself.   Therefore, as spectacular as her turkey is, her gravy will imbibe all of that awesomeness.  She uses all of the discarded parts of every vegetable she has used in all of her dishes to make a stock which she adds to the gravy.  So every year the gravy is made from the totality of whatever it is she's cooking.  The gravy takes on the personality of the enitre Thanksgiving feast.   It is awesome atop my Aunty's mashed potatoes.

My Mom's Yams

Our feast also has a few other trimmings my mom likes to add.   My Po Po used to always open a can of cranberry sauce, as well as a can of olives, and a few stalks of chilled celery.  While cranberry sauce is traditional Thanksgiving fare, I'm not really sure why she insisted upon having celery stalks and black olives, but this day, Thanksgiving is never complete without them.   She would also bake yummy whole yams along with the turkey.  To me, growing up, my favorite memory of Thanksgiving is waking up to a crisp cool morning, with the smell of the turkey and the yams wafting through the house, and my mom watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade in the kitchen while she cooks.  The savory smell of turkey baking in the oven is for most people one of the most poignant memories of Thanksgiving.   Ironically, when I was travelling through China, in one of the most rural little villages that we visited, I remember seeing a scrawny underfed little boy in dirty clothes sitting outside his house eating a whole yam.   As far as we were from America, and as poor as the little boy seemed, the smell of yam instantly triggered memories of Thanksgiving to me, and I knew that the yam was filing his body not just with nourishment, but warmth and his family's love as well. Quite powerful for such a nondescript little tuber.

My Uncle's Sweet Potato Pie

As full as everyone always is after eating Thanksgiving dinner, we somehow always make room for dessert.  When my Po Po was around, she used to make the most awesome pumpkin pie with her signature layer of cream cheese at the bottom.   The cream cheese just seemed to break up the thickness of the pumpkin, adding a creamy sweet contrast to it.  Since her passing, my uncle has been the dessert master in the family.   He's mastered some very beautiful fruit tartlets and pies.   This year was no exception, with a sweet potato pie that was so yummy despite being so full.   In order to lessen the heaviness of the sweet potato, he mixed in a meringue of egg whites, which made the whole filling much lighter and creamier.

Baby's First Thanksgiving

Being my youngest son's first Thanksgiving, he was given as special treat of trying "table food" for the first time in his life.   While Gerber has been good to him, I think he really enjoyed tasting the "real" thing at last.  Being still too young for most of the dishes on the table, his Thanksgiving dinner consisted of my mom's yams (mashed with a little water), and some of Hanalei poi.   He gobbled both down with an appetite worthy of his father, and the promise of many memorable Thanksgivings to come.

To me, food certianly isn't all about nourishment.   It is about culture, memories, and of course pleasure.   Thanksgiving dinner pretty much embodies and exemplifies all of these treasured ideals, and this year was no exception.

Laissez les bon temps rouler

When I was in grad school, as homesick as I was, I really wanted to take the opportunity to explore the mainland.  So my good friend Jim and I decided to spend our Spring break exploring the Big Easy, New Orleans.   Though not as typical a Spring break destination as say, Daytona Beach, everything we knew about New Orleans indicated a city rich in culture, history, music and food, that was just about foreign to anywhere else on the mainland.  I instantly fell in love with the place.   It was everything that we were expecting but 10 times greater.  Las Vegas may be known as Sin City, but it seems almost like a children's theme park, compared to a place where the girls are more than willing to expose themselves to you for a string of plastic souvenier beads, and every meal is a completely sinful guilty pleasure.   I loved food.  I loved the jazz.  Most of all I loved the stories.

Maybe it was because I was homesick, I immediately drew a number of very interesting parallels between New Orleans and Hawaii.   From the moment I stepped off the plane, I was greeted with a warm, humid air, that instantly made me feel like I was back home in the islands.   Their culture was also based upon the grand plantations that existed there in the past.   Although their plantations were run with slave labor, and our plantation workers came here of their own free will seeking a better life, my Po Po would probably tell you that they worked equally as hard.   Their climate, being so similar to our own, meant that they grew crops like sugar cane, and that, like us, rice was the staple of their diet, not potatoes like everywhere else in the country.  They have a very spiritually charged culture (although their spirits were Voodoo spirits and ours Hawaiian gods), and just walking down the street you could feel a spiritual presense even before hearing all of the ghost stories, worthy of Glen Grant.  The Cajun people themselves were hearty, outcast Frenchmen who, for political reasons, were estranged from even their fellow French colonists, very similar to our own Hakka Chinese who were shunned by our Punti Chinese.   There was even a small population of Cantonese Chinese workers who went to work on their plantations, exactly the same as our own.  The term "creole" refers to the French settlers born in the new world, similar to our own nissei.  They mixed with the other ethnic groups that populated the area, and they spoke a mixture of languages not unlike our own Pidgin.  Here in Hawaii, we call it to "talk story", whereas in New Orleans they call it "gumbo ya-ya".  The outrageous beignets at the famed Cafe du Monde seriously reminded me of the malasadas at Leonard's Bakery (substituting granulated sugar for powdered sugar).  These days tourism is a huge industry for them, just as it is to us, and their French Quarter is akin to Waikiki.  But they welcome guests with the famed Southern hospitality, which is equivalent in spirit to our own aloha spirit.   But probably the single thing that made me relate most to the people in New Oleans, was how although we're both part of the United States, we're so culturally distinct it feels like being in a foreign country. 

Although there were parallels, the culture and food in New Orleans is nothing like our own.  Whereas our local food is a melting pot of various Asian cuisines, theirs is a melange of French, African, and Native American.   I loved their cuisine so much, that I took several classes at the New Orleans School of Cooking, so that I could enjoy it at home.  After practicing the techniques, and with the help of some imported spices, I have really come to master my own style of classic Cajun/Creole dishes like gumbo, jambalaya, and etouffee.  Unfortunately, aside of cooking it on my own, authentic Cajun food is really difficult to find here in the islands.

As much as I enjoy Popeye's, its really a fast food chain that has been watered down to mainstream tastes.   There was a kiosk next to Daiei called Kelly's Cajun Grill, but for some really bizarre reason, that always tasted much more like Chinese fast food (similar to Panda Express) than it did like Cajun cuisine.   Their bourbon chicken was a glazed chicken piece that but for a light change in seasoning could've easily become kung pao chicken.  For a while, there was a small place in the Makai Market food court in Ala Moana Center (whose name I really can't remember), that did slightly better.  I did enjoy having a bowl of their gumbo, some of their creamy Cajun chicken penne, spicy Cajun fried chicken, and a side of dirty rice.  They even gave you  a little hush puppy with your mixed plate.   While it wasn't really Cajun, I did lament its closing a little more than the loss of Kelly's.  Probably the closest thing that we've ever had to authentic Cajun cuisine is the A Taste of the Bayou restaurant on Kapahulu Ave.

Just like Taste of New York Deli was created by New York transplantees that longed for a taste of their home in Honolulu, A Taste of the Bayou was created by a Chef from Louisiana that wanted to fill the Cajun void here in Honolulu.   As a big afficionado of Cajun/Creole food, I have to say that he does a very good job, although he does miss the mark on a few things.  To begin with, once you walk through the door you're greeted with music that is truly Cajun.  It isn't the brass filled jazz of New Orleans, that I actually prefer, but the accordian and washboard music from the Cajun bayou.  The decor is a mix of the glittery mardi gras colors (purple, green, and gold), and the beautiful French architecture you'd find in the Garden District.

Cornbread Muffins at A Taste of the Bayou

As your anticipation grows for real Cajun food, they serve you some deliciously warm Southern cornbread muffins.  The muffins are steaming and soft, and not mealy the way that bad cornbread can be.

Cafe au Lait at A Taste of the Bayou

It's not Cafe du Monde, but they do serve a wonderful cafe au lait, served in a beautiful French style class.  The coffee is a real French roast with the distinct chickory flavor that makes New Orleans' coffee so unique.  The dark roast blends really well with the milk so that it is not overpowering and leaves a much more subtle yet robust flavor.

Alligator Tenderloin in Alligator Sausage Piquant Sauce at A Taste of the Bayou

As an appetizer, they even feature an alligator tenderloin in piquant sauce.  Where else in Honolulu are you going to find real alligator tenderloins on the menu??   Alligator is such a delicious and really light meat.  People always say that it tastes like chicken, but to me it tastes much more like a very delicate lobster.  The problem with most places is that they either deep fry it (making it taste like everything else that is deep fried) or they turn it into sausage (which usually has more to do with the spices than the meat).   So it is rare to find a good place that serves alligator where the alligator flavor really comes through.   If you've never eaten alligator before, this is one dish that is not to be passed up.

Red Beans and Rice at A Taste of the Bayou

My dad opted for the monday night favorite of red beans and rice (tradionally a dish made with the leftover meat from a Sunday night family dinner).  Here there is a bit of interpretation difference.   The traditional Cajun version of this dish is distinctly spicier than the traditional Creole version.  And I prefer the more buttery less spicy Creole, to the very spicy Cajun version that Taste of the Bayou offers.  However, the one thing that both versions have in common are really soft beans that are practically creamy in texture when you put them in your mouth, but are not so overcooked that they turn to mush.  In my travels, I came across these perfect beans at the Desire Oyster Bar and Bistro, right on Bourbon Street, that were supremely rich, creamy, and subtlely seasoned.   The beans at Taste of the Bayou, sadly fall short, still maintaining a slightly hard, crumbliness and an almost overpoweringly spiciness.

Catfish Po' Boy at A Taste of the Bayou

My wife decided to order the catfish po' boy, something she really enjoyed during our travels to New Orleans.   I've been to many po' boy places in New Orleans; Magazine Po' Boy, Serio's Po' Boy, and even the famous Mother's Po' Boy.   My favorite though is a little place right on the edge of the French Quarter called Johnny's Po' Boy.  As I've said before, the most important thing in a sandwich is the bread.  The crust on Johnny's bread is not like the crunchy toasted french bread you get on a Vietnames banh mi, but it is a delicately crispy and flaky crust on a super soft loaf of bread.   On top of that they've got fantastically seasoned fried oysters, and all sorts of other goodies.   This is again where Taste of the Bayou falls short, with a hard, chewy, roll that is nothing like the pillowy heaven that was Johnny's.  They've even got tomatoes on their po' boy, something that you traditionally wouldn't get in New Orleans because tomatoes wouldn't really grow well.   Probably the worst thing though, is that their spicy mayonnaise simply overpowers everything else in the sandwich.  Here they fall into the trap and misconception everyone has that all Cajun food needs to be really spicy.  It doesn't.  My wife and I travelled throughout New Orleans, tasting really authentic Creole cuisine, and she was always able to enjoy herself.   Unfortunately, she couldn't say the same thing at Taste of the Bayou. 

A Taste of the Bayou Sampler a A Taste of the Bayou

For myself, I opted to get a sampling of the 3 most classic Cajun dishes, red beans and rice (like my dad's), gumbo, and jambalaya.   I really did enjoy all of them.  Gumbo is a favorite of mine.  Whenever I land in New Orleans, the first thing that I will want to do after checking in to my hotel is run off to the Gumbo Shop to have a bowl of their chicken & andouille gumbo.   The warm, savoriness of the thickened soup is just the thing to reset your body after a long flight. The gumbo at A Taste of the Bayou shares much of that same savoriness and spiciness that relaxes and re-energizes your whole body.  Although, I do have to say that my own gumbo, simmering for hours with tons of vegetables, chicken, sausage, and various seafoods, is way better, it takes a ton of time and effort, and just wouldn't be economically feasible for any restaurant to offer.  So if I want to relax and have someone else cook the gumbo, this may be the next best thing.

The best thing about Taste of the Bayou, is that the spice blend that they use, really is the authentic flavor that you would get in New Orleans.   I would say that aside of cooking it myself, the spicy, savory, buttery flavors at A Taste of the Bayou are the closest thing that I have found on island to the authentic tastes that I fell in love with in New Orleans.   Although they are a bit heavy handed with their spices, I am happy to have them here to fill the niche in our culinary landscape.

My wife and I travelled to New Orleans just before our son was born, one last hurrah before settling into parenthood.  Fatefully, this was just a few months before Hurricane Katrina devastated the entire city.  But like Kauai rebuilding after Hurricane Iniki, their culture and food is simply too powerful to be supressed.  Perhaps that is the strongest parallel of all between us and them.

Y'all Come Back Now

Many of the foods that we hold dear as "American" foods, are in fact Southern foods.   From fried chicken to barbecue to country fried steak, the South has made quite the culinary contribution to our country's heritage.   While they've had their share of social problems, primarily racial tensions, the famed Southern hospitality and culture is very much genuine, and somewhat akin to the aloha spirit.  Although they are still working on the racial harmony that we pride ourselves on, their cuisine is still a mixture of the various ethnic groups that populate the area, albeit a completely different racial mix than our own  (although it may surprise you to know that Georgia has one of the largest Korean populations outside of Korea).    It is very hard to imagine a major American holiday, like Thanksgiving, without having some influence on the table from the South.

Although we are all the way on the other end of the country from the South, we still have our share of Southern style food.   The main reason for its popularity is, of course, the major military influence that we've got here.   Very often, our military personnel are either from the South or have had some connection to the South.   My father-in-law, for example, spent a good deal of time in Buloxi, Mississippi, and consequently developed a taste for Southern food.  The few Southern restaurants that we do have, especially the fast food ones, are always flooded with military personnel in uniform. 

Fried Chicken at Popeye's

Fast food chains like Kentucky Fried Chicken or Popeye's Louisiana Kitchen, are perhaps the easiest places to get a fix of Southern cuisine.   We don't generally tend to think of KFC as Southern food, but the "K" does stand for a major Southern state, and the iconic Col. Harland Sanders is famous for his gentlemanly Southern attire.   However, the seasonings at Popeyes were always a little truer to the flavors that you would get in the deep South.  Their spicer, crunchier batter along with their more distinctly Southern sides (like thier tasty green beans) give them a little more uniqueness than the international fast food that KFC has become.  Popeye's was always a favorite of my wife's Goong Goong, again probably due to his military connections, and visiting there always reminds her of him.   Even while maintaining their Southern roots however, both restaurants have naturally adopted to local tastes as well.   Visiting Popeye's on Dillingham, you can get your fix of chicken livers & gizzards, as well as chicken curry, both done to Filipino tastes.   KFC offers May's teriyaki chicken besides their standard snackers.  More importantly, every KFC restaurant in Hawaii is adorned with old photos of Col. Sanders wearing a lei during his visit to the islands.  The image of him wearing a lei over his old Southern suit, is the perfect symbol of adopting Southern cuisine into our local melange.

Besides the fast food restaurants, you can visit sit down restaurants like Bubba Gump's Shrimp Company.   Despite the many years since the popularity of Forrest Gump, the themed restaurant that bears his name is still going strong.   Frankly, I was always suprised that they would even make a restaurant based upon a one time movie that isn't even a major tentpole property (like Star Wars or Harry Potter).   But I can't complain, seeing as how I really do enjoy eating there.   I'm particularly fond of their "Bucket o' Boat Trash", with little bits of lobster, fish, and shrimp.   It's like a little mixed plate, with all the good stuff. 

Although I do enjoy eating at Popeye's or Bubba Gump's, they really are Southern food catered to the mainstream palate.  Their authenticity extends only as far as general mainstream American tastes will allow.   For the real Southern goodness, you have to venture into a small restaurant like Dixie Grill.    I always used to patronize the location on Ward Ave., but sadly that location is gone and has subsequently changed restaurants several times ever since.   But thankfully, you can still find Dixie Grill out in Aiea, just as you get off the Pearlridge offramp.  

Gumbo at Dixie Grill

Dixie Grill actually has some really authentic Southern cuisine.   You know you're in a real Southern restaurant, when the waitresses have a true Southern drawl, and they call your iced tea, "sweet tea".  The decor is also fantastic, looking like something out of the Dukes of Hazzard.   I particularly love their handwash basin, that looks like an old galvanized metal washtub, where you turn on the water by depressing  a foot pedal, and thus your barbecue sauce covered hands never touch the faucet.  Ingenious!   But besides the atmosphere, their cuisine is actually pretty accurate to tastes I encountered in my travels down south.   Their gumbo in particular (while not nearly as good as my own) is a spicy, savory blend, that actually has the requisite okra to be called gumbo.  In addition, it's got some tasty sausage in it.  The one detractor is the presense of some tomato (which you would never actually find in real gumbo). 

Crunchy Potato Crusted Mahi Sandwich at Dixie Grill

Just ordering a crunchy potato crusted fish sandwich, you can see the quality that they put into their dishes.   The fillet of mahi mahi they put in it is just huge, about the size of a greeting card.   It's very crunchy, with a batter almost similar to Popeye's, and the fish inside is a perfect flaky, moist texture.

Southern Fried Catfish at Dixie Grill

The truly authentic Southern fish at Dixie Grill, however, is their awesome Southern fried catfish.   This really brought me back to my travels, as its hard to find places that do catfish really well.  The texture of catfish is much more meat-like than any other fish.  It's as flaky or delicate as mahi, but has its own tender unique flavor.   I really love catfish, and they season theirs just perfectly the way I remember it down South.   Next to that, you've got a super savory bowl of collard greens, that has just enough bacon flavor to accentuate the soft dark greens.   As in all real Southern collard greens, the best part is drinking the pot liquor at the bottom of the bowl.   The creole rice next to it is the only item that doesn't really capture the buttery flavor of true creole rice, but that's easily overlooked while enjoying the catfish itself.

Probably the best thing on Dixie Grill's regular menu is their "Trash Can Buffet".   Just like the Bucket o' Boat Trash at Bubba Gump's, this enormous platter of food (served on an actual trash can lid), is a feast for 2 people with a little bit of everything that they do so well, fried chicken, catfish, ribs, etc.   But even this massive platter seems ordinary during the month of June, when Dixie Grill holds its annual CrabFest.   They've got a ton of crab dishes: soft shell crab jamabalaya, crab po' boys, etc.   But the most awesome thing that Dixie Grill offers is their crab platter during Crab Fest.   It's got huge servings of Alaskan king crab, Japanese snow crab, dungenous crab, and blue crab.   It's so rare that you get to try all 4 major different types of crab on a single platter, in such generous portions, and seasoned so perfectly with their Southern spices.  It is a crab lover's dream!   Crab happens to be my uncle's favorite food in the whole world.   We can easily satisfy him on any special occasion with the inclusion of some crab.   So I really wanted to take him to Dixie Grill for their crab platter.   The only drawback was that his birthday is in December, whereas Crab Fest is held during the month of June.   But after a little bit of pleading, they accomodated us by making the platter specially for his birthday (although not at the regular June pricing).  I think it may have been one of the most satisfying birthday dinners we've taken my uncle to.

Despite not being from, nor having lived for any long period of time in, the South, somehow Southern cuisine is so comforting to me.   Maybe it's just that the concept of Southern hospitality is so pervasive, that it permeates their cuisine, even so far from the South itself.

Beef... It's What's for Dinner

If there is one item in America that symbolizes success and wealth it's steak.  Because of the abundance of cattle lands in the midwest, it's the very heart of America's "meat and potatoes" cuisine.  While places like the Big Texan in Amarillo are the workin man's feast, the finer steakhouses like Keens Steakhouse in New York, are the equivalent of America's gentleman's club.   They conjure images of  black and white photos of political powerhouses and old boy networks, gathering to plot the future of government and business in America over a big bloody piece of meat, a glass of hard liquor, and only an unappetizing wedge of ignored iceberg lettuce as the only green in sight.   There is nothing more red blooded, two fisted, American than having a huge dripping slab of of red meat on your plate.

In the islands during my Po Po's time however, having a whole big steak all to yourself was practically unheard of.   It's true that Hawaii had our own cowboys.  People from the mainland are always surprised when I tell them that Parker Ranch on the Big Island is the largest independently owned ranch in the country (including Texas).   They're even more shocked when I tell them that our cowboys, the paniolos, who were originally taught by the gauchos of South America, frequently out-roped the Texas boys in competition back in those days.  However, while we did have access to the cattle, times were tougher then, and plantation workers were often on the poorer side.  My Po Po would tell me how when they were lucky enough to be able to buy a small steak, it would need to be split up amongst the whole family (which for her was like a dozen people).   You were lucky to get maybe a few small pieces.   Both my dad and my father-in-law will tell you, that's why gravy made from the steak was so important, because a little bit of the gravy over the rice meant that you could have some of the flavor even if you weren't privy to much of the actual meat.  But, as farmers from Asian countries weren't used to having so much meat in the first place, it wasn't such a stretch to slice the steak very thinly, so that even though you don't have much, everyone could enjoy a little with their rice and vegetables.    I think that's the concept that is what makes Blazin' Steaks so successful these days, and how they are able to serve a steak, rice, salad, and drink for their famous $6 price tag.  

What about when you finally did come into some money, and wanted to eat at a nice steak place?  My dad likes to tell the joke about the young man who all his life grew up eating only hamburger and never knew what a steak was, so when he was a bit older and finally saved up some money he went to a restaurant and orders a salisbury steak, and is dismayed when he's served another hamburger.  But Hawaii did have some nice places to go when he was just starting to be able to afford a steak.   My favorite place when I was a little kid was called Victoria Station.  I was too young to remember the food exactly (although my dad always considered theirs among the best), but as a little boy I could never forget the thrill of eating dinner inside of an actual railway boxcar parked on Kapiolani Blvd.  Not only has Victoria Station disappeared from our shores, but the enitre chain went bankrupt decades ago, and all that's left are memories even on the mainland.

Teppanyaki Chef at Kobe Steakhouse

Though a fine steakhouse may be the epitome of mainland cuisine, in the islands we of course would add our own island flair to our steakhouses.   Having such a large Japanese population, teppanyaki style steakhouses are of course very popular.    However, while audiences on the mainland thrill to the knife weilding, juggling acrobatics made famous by Benihana,  I always prefer our own local Kobe Steakhouse to the big mainland chain.   Images of Frank De Lima's old "Adventures of Kobe-San" commercials always come to mind, when I sit there and watch the teppanyaki chef work his magic.   Naturally, they've got all the gimmicky tricks, like the flaming onion volcano (a natural must being in Hawaii), but having the chef slice your steak perfectly and grill each individual piece ensures that each piece is perfectly cooked througout.   This is a sharp contrast to western steakhouses, where often the outside can get overcooked and the inside underdone.  Of course as a child of my generation, I can't help but associate teppanyaki steakhouses with that fateful scene from Robotech (or Macross in Japan) when Ben Dixon orders and begins eating his giant steak, just before getting called to scramble and being killed in combat.   The symbolism of the uneaten steak and the fragility of life is something I'll always carry with me. 

Flaming Onion Volcano at Kobe Steakhouse

Of course being in Hawaii, even our most famous mainland steakhouses will have some kind of local touch.  If you've ever walked into Hy's Steakhouse on Kuhio, you'll know that they are famous for their big broiler hidden behind a wall of glass and brass right in the middle of their old library themed dining room, like a big romantic fireplace.   But what is really memorable about the steaks at Hy's is that the fire upon which they smoke and broil their aged steaks is comprised of kiawe wood.   Kiawe as you may or may not know, is our own variety of mesquite.  Just as the volcanic soil and tropical climate make Maui onions and Kona coffee unique to their mainland counterparts, so does kiawe have its own unique smokiness.

My favorite steakhouse in the world however, would have to be Ruth's Chris Steakhouse at Restaurant Row.  They are originally a cajun/creole restaurant from New Orleans, and as such many of their dishes have a distinctly Southern flavor to them.   Their crabcakes, macaroni and cheese, and bread pudding all directly remind me of the style I had while visiting New Orleans.  But again, being in Hawaii, there are hints to our local flavor as well.   Ahi poke as an appetizer for example, is probably not something that you would find on the mainland.   But most significantly, they use Hawaiian salt to season all of their steaks here.   From the days when the old Hawaiians would pour ocean water over the lava rocks to let them dry, Hawaiian salt has given all of our local food it's unique taste  (exactly the same way New York water makes their pastrami unreproducable anywhere else).  So seasoning their steaks with Hawaiian salt, makes them taste completely different and local.

Cowboye Ribeye Steak at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse

The best thing about Ruth's Chris is how they serve your steak on a sizzling 500 degree heated plate.  The one thing that I hate most about eating a steak, is how halfway through it gets cold, and the fats within it congeal making the entire thing totally unappetizing. With the heated plate, your steak stays warm and succulent throughout the meal.  Just walking in to Ruth's Chris, the butter that they brush over the plates (and steak) fills the air with an intoxicating, saliva inducing aroma.

Creamed Spinach at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse

Even their side dishes are extremely rich at Ruth's Chris.   The creamed spinach is perhaps the most decadent vegetable you will ever eat.   Sure it's a leafy green, but with that much butter and cream, it becomes a completely sinful delight.  Their asparagus may be simply par boiled and crisp, but the fantastically creamy hollandaise sauce that accompanies makes it another guilty pleasure.   It may break the bank (and the waistline) to dine there, but I really love the place and can scarcely think of a more genuinely haute and oppulent venue for a celebration.

The sheer hedonism of enjoying such a huge steak often makes me wonder what my Po Po would've said if served one of those giant cowboy ribeyes.  Would she have enjoyed finally having one all to her own?  Or, coming from an era when she would have to share something less than a quarter of that size with a dozen other people, would eating the entire thing have just made her nauseous?  I wonder too if my son will ever really understand and appreciate how hard his family worked to get to the point we can afford to buy the steak he's enjoying.