Ka'a'awa Spam

The Rhee and Joey waiting to check in.

After our morning and afternoon of nearly non-stop eating, we make our way to Ka'a'awa on the Windward side of O'ahu where we've rented a house to stay in for the weekend while attending Neil's wedding.


Spam Musubi while we wait.

As far as beach houses go, the location is stellar. Across Kamehameha Highway from the beach and backing up to the back country of Kualoa Ranch, it's perfect. In fact, the valley that backs up to the house is the same one they shot movies like Jurassic Park, 50 First Dates and Tears of the Sun. Visions of Drew Barrymore and T-Rex dance on the horizon.


Doc Sree wondering if The Bob is going to arrive.

The house itself is pretty large with six bedrooms, four baths, a loft, two kitchens, a two-car garage and two decks. The only problem is that the house is old and slightly worn. Not to mention the odd decor - like the designers' penchant for Native American dreamcatchers and a general mish-mash of furniture, art and colors. But we're here to party, so I'm not complaining.


The Back Yard

Check-in time is 3pm and we're on time but the cleaners aren't. They're still in the midst of cleaning the place. And while it may sound like an irritant, it's not a tremendous hardship. The cleaners are a couple of young and tight-bodied Brazilian girls and we're in no rush for them to finish. Would you mind standing on that step ladder and dusting the top of that bookcase one more time, please?


The Front Yard

After a while, the property manager stops by to check us in and then it's back to Honolulu for more provisions and supplies since we'll be hosting the afterparty...

Chili's

Hanna and The Bob play 'Paper, Rock, Scissors.'

Four years is a long time to be away from Hawaii. Especially when little girls are involved. The last time I saw Hanna she was two years old. Now, she's six and quite precocious.

I know, I know, regular readers of this blog are probably aghast and spitting out their meals at the sight of me dining at Chili's. In my defense: it wasn't my choice. It was Ray Ray's choice. He wanted to meet at the Mililani Chili's and I was too stuffed from the Original Pancake House to encourage a different selection.


Country Fried Chicken Crispers, Corn and Rice.

The nice thing about Hawaii is that you can order rice just about everywhere - even the national chains. Since that's the case, I couldn't resist a taste of their Chicken Crispers. Nothing special really. Just battered and fried strips of commercial chicken breast and overcooked corn. Ray had the habanero chicken wings and The Bob had a dessert sampler. Only Doc Rhee and Donella were the smart ones and stayed away from the food.


Ray Ray


Sweet Shots - warm cinnamon roll, double chocolate fudge brownie & apple caramel cheesecake.


Hanna and her pizza.


I'm a bad uncle as I bet Hanna that she can't eat the whole pizza at once.


Donella and Hanna

Original Pancake House

Bacon Pancakes

Perhaps some of you will think it's odd that we would go to a chain restaurant by choice. To be honest, for years I never knew that the Original Pancake House was a chain. I just thought it was a couple of restaurants in Honolulu making great pancakes. Either way, the pancakes are good and we can't get enough.

For me, I'm a simple enough chap. Just a mound of macadamia nut pancakes, melted butter and maple syrup for me. I'm happy. Add on some Portuguese sausage, fried eggs and steamed white rice and I'm absolutely ecstatic. This is the kind of eating unavailable on the mainland and is part of what makes living in Hawaii so special.

Today, we've brought the entire crew down: Polly, Anna, Tilly, Michelle, Christian, Gerry, Baby Ian, Doc Rhee and The Bob, which promises a veritable smorgasbord of eating.


Macadamia Nut Pancakes

The dangerous part of their menu is their happy accommodation of pairing a short stack of pancakes (in any flavor) with your breakfast plate. That means the dream of meat, eggs, rice and pancakes is more than possible. It's absolutely necessary.

The ordering itself is a mad blur. The restaurant is packed and noisy to begin with and our cries of hunger only add to the contented cacophony that is the Original Pancake House. While the rest of our party occupies themselves with ordering, Doc Rhee and myself have been casually checking out the girl four tables to our right. She's gorgeous. A knockout. A true island sexy. But there's something "off" about her. Maybe she's too coiffed for this Kalihi crowd. Everything is just right - the makeup, the hair, the nails, the pareau. She's too perfect for the average woman. Then we notice it, the hands are just a bit large. Just a bit on the masculine side. Aw shucks, we knew it was too good to be true.


Tilly and Polly getting ready to grind.


Hawaiian Islands Coffee Company brewed coffee

Many people know that I do coffee for a living and that my preference is to drink the best quality coffees in the world and that I have no problem poo-poo-ing on places that serve crappy coffee. But what I should stress is that coffee needs context. If I'm ordering a coffee from a coffeeshop then my expectations are severely different than a cup from a place like the Original Pancake House. I know it's not great coffee. Chances are that it's going to be barely passable. I'm pretty sure it's going to be utter crap.

But sometimes you like utter crap - especially when it's mixed with sugar, cream and stacks of butter-drenched macadamia nut pancakes. There's a warm pairing of coffee with sweet stuff and that's all you want: the semblance of coffee. And keep it coming, please.


Fried Eggs and Corned Beef Hash

I won't try to include a paragraph for each of these images. There's just too much. It's not fancy food. It's simple food. Simple food to satisfy the soul. It's delicious.

But I did try a taste of just about everything here. The bacon: crispy and delicious. Portuguese sausage: just as a remember. Scrambled eggs: not bad. Fried eggs: good. Pass me more bacon and bacon pancakes, please. Polly on the other hand just couldn't get enough of the coconut syrup.


Spinach Omelette and Hash Brown


Portuguese Sausage Omelette and rice

And while I prefer the macadamia nut pancakes, Gerry ordered the bacon pancakes and those were absolutely stellar. Imagine soft, fluffy buttermilk pancakes mixed with bits of bacon throughout. Lord Have Mercy. Too good.

The omelettes were good but they've got a unique way of fluffing the eggs into a puffy texture that I'm not too fond of. Personally speaking, I would have preferred my Portuguese omelette with a healthy dose of chili, cheddar and onions (with Tabasco, of course)


Fried Eggs, Portuguese Sausage and Rice.


Portuguese Sausage Omelette


Bacon and Scrambled Eggs


The Bob and The Rhee eying other meals.


The Bob grinds what we can't.

Finally, the one thing that I had forgotten was that The Bob could always be depended upon to consume what the rest of us couldn't. He didn't disappoint. The man is a machine.


The Original Pancake House
Waiakamilo Shopping Center
1414 Dillingham Blvd.
Honolulu, HI 96817
808-847-1496

Big City Diner

Some beverages to start the meal.


Lisa and her Ramen.


My Future's So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades.


Fried Calamari


Fries


Chili


Kim Chee Fried Rice Loco Moco

Morning Coffee in Waikiki

Ham and Cheese Croissant from Saint Germain Bakery.

You know you're either having a great time or things have really gone awry when you're feeling crushed in the morning from last nights' partying. And while you'd prefer to sleep in bed longer, the six hour time difference causes tremendous jet lag and your body is screaming to wake up even thought you're still incredibly tired.

Time to get some coffee.

From our 15th floor roost at the Acqua Waikiki Wave hotel the view is magnificent. The slopes of the Ko'olau mountains to the right dotted with expensive homes (that once used to cost $300K) and the urban ghetto that is Waikiki below our feet. And Waikiki is just that: a tourist ghetto.


Tilly, Michelle and Polly in search of coffee.

At the corner of Kuhio and Seaside Avenues, and backing up to the grotesque International Marketplace, our hotel is smack dab in the middle of Waikiki - and it's making me depressed. Depressed because this is what most people come to think Hawai'i is all about. It's dirty, seedy and a facade of what Hawai'i is really about. Ever since my days driving tourists for Roberts Hawaii, it's always made me sad that so many tourists come to Waikiki and think that's what Hawai'i and O'ahu is all about.

But tourist depression aside, I'm in need of coffee and a little nourishment. Luckily, my favorite Japanese-style bakery Saint Germain has set up an outpost next door to the hotel. For those of you unfamiliar, these Japanese-style bakeries typically make some truly fantastic French-inspired breads. My favorite is the plain, old white bread that's crusty with a springy, spongy interior that crisps beautifully in the toaster. Spread on some butter and allow it to penetrate into the crevices and it's true baked perfection.

We make a quick pit stop to pick up a couple of handheld breakfast pastries: ham and cheese croissant, almond croissant and something custard filled. And while it would have been nice to have enjoyed our coffee with the baked goods, they just didn't make it that long.


My way too foamy cappuccino at Honolulu Coffee Company.

The Honolulu Coffee Company has been around for quite some time and the original owner was pretty obsessed with offering a quality product in nice environs. The Waikiki shop, located in the former Alfred Dunhill shop in the Sheraton Moana Surfrider Hotel is a really nice-looking coffeeshop with rich wood textures, open windows and a Kees Van Der Westen Mistral three group espresso machine. My last visit here didn't leave me with very positive feelings about this shop. But promises of quality coffee in the land of my second home are few and far between and Honolulu Coffee was our best bet.

The girls aren't exactly hardcore coffee aficionados, as evidenced by their choice of the Iced Nutty Hawaiian Latte - a Starbuckian concoction of espresso, milk and hazelnut syrup over ice. It's not bad as far as flavored lattes go and they sucked them down pretty hard. A bit too sweet and syrupy for my tastes though.

I went with something a bit more traditional: a cappuccino. Of course, the problem with these kinds of places is that they offer three sizes of cappuccinos. Still, in this day and age of "enlightened" coffee professionals, there are those who still follow this arcane and disrespecting practice. I had to make sure they understood that I wanted the "smallest" cappuccino possible and that I would have it "for here."


Michelle and the Iced Nutty Hawaiian Latte.

Watching the practices of a shop is more than telling. The barista still follows the "I must clack the lever of my grinder as loud as possible" mantra that's so popular amongst modern-day baristas. It's a pretty busy shop so they grind slightly ahead of their demand - not exactly the ideal approach but they seem to pound through the coffee so it's not so much of a concern.

From there it's sixty-four ounce steam pitchers and a general lack of cleanliness when it comes to the pitchers. They maybe have two - and they're in constant use without being washed out. How do I know this? There's that telltale buildup of old steamed milk forming on the inside of the pitcher. Wiping and keeping your steam wands is a step in the right direction but that old mil crusting inside the pitcher is not.


Tilly hides from the peering eyes of a frustrated coffee professional.

And while the steaming technique looks pretty good and they're attempting latte art, when it comes to my cappuccino there's no preheating of the cup and the barista dumps the milk into the cup pouring off the side of the pitcher to get more of the foam into the cup.

Unfortunately, "cappuccino" here seems to mean "more foam." Just make a drink with a lot of foam and you're done. My cup is half foam. The delicate balance between espresso, milk and foam is gone - obliterated by a preponderance of foam. As far as foam goes, it's not half bad. It's slightly sweet, not too hot, microbubbles and has nice texture without being dry. Add a bit of sugar and the drink is actually okay. But it's only "okay", with a little more thought, effort and adoption of standards, this could easily have been a "killer" cappuccino. Instead, it's merely okay and that's a shame.


Saint Germain Bakery Waikiki
2301 Kuhio Ave., Unit 117A
Honolulu, HI 96815
808-924-4305
www.stghi.com


Honolulu Coffee Company
Sheraton-Waikiki Hotel
2255 Kalakaua Avenue
Honolulu, HI 96815
808-923-8181
www.honolulucoffee.com

I Am A Golden God

The Volcano

Nikki and Neil are getting married and by tomorrow I will probably be dead.

Traveling with friends is a very rare treat and after our first night in Honolulu perhaps it's better that way.

Our journey started in Los Angeles yesterday morning with an upgrade to first class with Michelle. The thing that always gets my goat is that domestic first class is nothing compared to international first. Sure it's nicer seats and nicer service but it's not the same as international. Not to mention the fact that United has gotten cheap and just dropped the ice cream cart service last month. No more fresh Haagen Dazs ice cream. The friendly skies sucks.

But drinks in first class are free and Michelle and I proceeded to slosh ourselves straight across the Pacific while the rest of our friends were herded into the cattle car. Perhaps we should have just sat in the back with our friends. You know, taken one for the team but the reality is that the lure of first class and going into the back to visit with the common folk was just too powerful.

At least we're a benevolent Lord and Lady who tried to bring our friends in steerage a taste of our mai tais.

For our first night, we've camped out at the Waikiki Wave Hotel on Kuhio Street. It's a boutique hotel that's really quite nice. For $169/night we've got a spacious room with three queen beds and a party pad. Our flight was delayed for two hours so we didn't get situated and rolling until 8pm.

First stop was to visit The Bob where he has been recently gifted with a Volcano. I was first introduced to the Volcano last year at Alinea where they used the device to create juniper vapors that wafted out from a pillow during one of the courses. At The Bob's Bachelor Pad, our experience with the Volcano was less Grant Achatz and more Harold & Kumar. The surprise of the experience was the strong taste of popcorn.

From there, it was time to eat. First stop: Dave's Famous Ice Cream where they make truly amazing Haupia, Ube and Green Tea ice cream in-house. Sweet, delicate, delicious, I couldn't get enough. But ice cream doesn't make for a complete meal and nothing will substitute than Zippy's.

On the island of O'ahu, no restaurant satiates the local hunger like Zippy's. It's sort of a Hawiian Denny's that specializes in fast food and plate lunches that fill the local cravings. And while everyone has their favorites at Zippy's, for me it's the Holy Trinity of steamed white rice, fried chicken and chili that absolutely rocks my world.

They're taking a long time to fill our order at the Kaimuki Zippy's but it's worth the wait. The chicken is juicy and tender while being wonderfully crisp. The chili is perfectly balanced between the beef and the beans, and with cheese, onions and a liberal application of Tabasco, it's sublime. Paired with a large cup of Lilikoi juice (passion fruit) and nothing beats it. In fact, Anna and the girls order new menu item: Korean Fried Chicken but the regular fried chicken trumps the Korean. Next time we're gonna order the chicken barrel.

It's at this point that my night gets blurry. A combination of travel, fatigue, alcohol, food and The Volcano has brought me to the edge, and pushed me off. Muneko and Lisa are calling to head over the house in Hawaii Kai to party. Neil and friends are on their way to our place to drink and partake of the Volcano. The only sane person in my world at this point is Shellie, who's decided to stay home tonight instead of coming over. We're on a roller coaster ride and I need to get off.

When we get back to our pad, I'm done. Toasted. Burnt. Finished. Kaput. The Bob has brought along the Volcano. Christian has a case of Stella Artois and a bottle of Jack Daniels. I can't hang. I must hide. My vision is blurry. I imagine that this is what Tony Bourdain must feel like. I need to be done but in this condition, sleeping is not a simple matter. It's a fit of starts and stops. Everyone is still partying. The volcano is erupting. I'm hiding.

This morning is a dizzying recovery. After a few minutes, I'm lucid once again. From our fifteenth floor pad, I can see the Ko'olau Range covered in showers and the sun poking out from the east. It's beautiful. I moved to Hawaii almost exactly twenty years ago and for the life of me, I can't imagine why I ever left.

The wedding is on Saturday. DJ Un-G arrives today. My brother arrives tomorrow. We've gone balls to the wall and we haven't met up with all of our friends yet. I'm scared. I'm terrified. But I'm loving every minute of it.

Zippy's

Gerry and the Zip Pack.

Foodies across the world may revolt. Nadine Kam (the Honolulu Star-Bulletins' food critic) may stop talking to me. Worshippers of Alan Wong and Chef Mavro might burn me in effigy, but to me, there Zippy's Chili is the definition of local, Hawaii cuisine.

Nothing else compares. It's a delicate balance of meat, beans and spice. Not too much, not too little. Just right. It's not the in yer face kind of chili so popular on the mainland, it's subdued. It's balanced. It melds beautifully with rice. It's a mix of American and Asian tastes. It's perfection. If you could only eat one dish to sample Hawaii's cuisine, it should be Zippy's Chili.

I'm so fanatical about Zippy's Chili that I once spent $80 to have some shipped to me in Maryland. It is quite simply food that inspires passion.


Zippy's Chili with cheese and onions.

Don't get me wrong. This isn't fine dining. It's barely even "fast casual" dining. This is down-home, in your gut, cuddle up with a girl, comfort food. It's not meant to be fancy. It has no pretense. It's just something that tastes good, warms your heart (perhaps clogging it too) and fills your soul.

We've come to Zippy's after a day of reckless endangerment and we must eat. For me, the perfect accompaniment to the chili is their fried chicken. Zippy's, with an eye on satisfying the soul and ignoring health, only uses thigh meat for their fried chicken. It's tender, juicy, crispy and oh so delicious. That juicy crunch of chicken paired with a spoonful of chili and rice - it's unbelievable. I must have more.


Fried Chicken Mini Plate with fries and scoop mac salad.


Korean Chicken plate.

Riding In Planes With Girls

Michelle's hot nuts and the first of many mai tais.

I travel quite a bit during the course of year and most of that travel is done completely alone, which absolutely sucks.

Sure, there have been a few highlights over the years, but usually it's just hours and hours of silence sitting next to strangers while trying to occupy yourself with the movie selection, a magazine or the iPod. Fun and interesting conversations are the rarity.

Which is why I routed my trip to Honolulu to coincide with that of my friends. At least I would have someone to fly with and even if we were separated, at least I would know people on the plane.


Mixed Salad with Javanese Dressing.

The problem is that airlines like United make asinine choices to fly aircraft like the 757 and 767 to Hawaii. Gone are the days when 747s and DC-10s ruled the skies. Just cram everyone into these small planes and make 'em fit. Once upon a time, flying to Hawaii on United sucked because it was a seniority route that boasted the surliest flight attendants. Today, flying to Hawaii on United sucks because it's just a generally shitty experience compounded by the fact that the planes are overbooked and overfilled.

Which is why I prefer to opt for an upgrade to first class.

Now I know many of you may be thinking that first class really is flying First Class. It's not. Yes, it is better service than what you experience in steerage. Your alcoholic beverages are free. Meals are free. You board at your leisure. And you get to use real silverware.


Mango Cheesecake

But all is not that pleasant in the friendly skies. Once upon a time in United First to Hawaii they actually had linen tablecloths. And multi-course meals. And a meat cart upon which you selected a fresh cut of beef. They even had a Haagen Dazs ice cream sundae cart. Back then they had champagne service and mimosas during the boarding process to entice you to sit early, relax and enjoy the flight.

Today, all of that is gone. Just plastic trays filled with food with cold, hard bread and disgusting whipped corn oil posing as butter.

What's that you say? I'm complaining while you're suffering in the cattle car? Okay, true but I would like to see domestic first class be at least equivalent to international business class where the seats are more comfortable, the amenities more plentiful and they still use white linens.


Filet of Beef with Au Gratin Potatoes and Grilled Asparagus

The choice was at hand: upgrade to first and sit alone with grumpy first class passengers or wedge myself into the misery that is economy to Hawaii with the rest of my friends. United we stand, divided we fall.

I would like to tell you that I took one for the team and joined my friends. That I was a good friend and didn't let them take it in the neck by themselves. That I stood by my comrades. But I can't. When the option to upgrade came my way, I took it. And left them behind the blue curtain in the process. I feel ashamed.

Okay, no I don't.

At the last minute, Michelle decided to cash in her miles and fly out to Hawaii for the weekend. From Washington, D.C.. She arranged to fly on the same flight as the rest of us and, like me, she also decided to let our friends take it in the neck by upgrading to first class.

Michelle and I are similar in many ways. Flying first class isn't so much the whole "see and be seen" scene as much as it is just a small measure to pad us from the horrors of life. It's not all Maybach and Mansions. Just a few luxuries here and there to ease the burden of la puta vida.


Ever the benevolent Lord and Lady, we visit with our friends in cattle.

To celebrate our good fortune, we start off with a mai tai cocktail. Maybe it's because I used to live in Hawaii and think it's touristy cheesy, but I have an aversion to mai tais. But the mood is right and I give it a try. It's good. Damn good. Actually, it's pretty darn fantastic. Prior to my trip I made a conscious decision to maintain sobriety this trip. Enraptured in the moment, I make a conscious decision to use moderation.

But those mai tais are too good to resist and we spend the entire trip across the Pacific downing them. I lose track of the actual number, but I think it hovers somewhere around eight. Whatever the number, we drank enough to bring a question to the minds of our flight attendants. Happily, we're not belligerent drinkers. We just get more friendly.

However, like all good things on United, they must come to an end. Once the airline depletes it's current inventory of mai tai mix, they will stop carrying it altogether. In fact, they just eliminated the ice cream sundae cart in July. Less amenities and more cost - not to mention that most people have to pay for their checked baggage? Bastards.

Oh well, I guess there are more barbaric ways of traveling to Hawaii.



One too many mai tais?

Ruby's Dinette - LAX

Baby Ian on his first trip to Hawaii.

Our adventure begins at LAX where we experienced something called a "code" at the TSA security checkpoint. During these "codes" everyone must stand perfectly still. Why? I don't know, but I was standing there waiting for something to explode. Happily, nothing happened and we were on our way following Benjamin Bratt and Talisa Soto with one too many luggages.

Maybe it's the celebrity thing, or maybe it's a parent thing, but those guys were loaded down with baggage. I suspect it's the former because Anna managed to pack everything for her, Christian and Ian in one bag.


Bacon Cheeseburger - only $9.49.

Other than the rather odd experience of riding in a cab with a Russian-Armenian taxi driver who absolutely needed to blast Russian techno music the whole way there, and the near-miss from the absent bomber at the TSA checkpoint, things were going well. I'm enjoying the rare opportunity to travel with friends and our flight is two hours late.


Onion Rings

Tilly and Gerry are flying in from Baltimore and Michelle is flying in from Washington DC. Our rendezvous point is here at LAX, but since we're hungry we camp out at Ruby's Dinette close to gate 60. Ruby's is a fifties style diner and the food is pretty good. The prices are typical airport "ream you in the butt" prices but at least it's freshly prepared and actually tasty.

As our crew slowly gathers from across the nation, we add more chairs and add more food. Soon, there's burgers, fries and onion rings covering the table. My bacon cheeseburger is pretty good but what I'm really excited about are the onion rings. To be honest, there's nothing overly special about them other than the fact that they're perfectly crisp, satisfyingly crunchy and, most importantly, the onion breaks away when you take a bite - it doesn't pull out like a string leaving you with a battered shell. Douse it with ketchup and it has everything I could ever want from an onion ring.


Tilly shoots.

Father's Office

The Bacon Cheeseburger with Fries.

When you're flying into L.A. for the night and a lovely girl offers to pick you up at the airport and take you out to dinner, you don't say 'no'.

I met Liz at a wedding this past April and we hit it off right away. WItty, sarcastic, intelligent and sexy with a wicked sense of humor. She's about as warped in the mind as I am, which means an evening of barbed comments, innuendo and some delicious food with cool weather and what else can you ask for?

We find ourselves at the new Father's Office in Culver City. The original is somewhere in Santa Monica and I had heard a lot of good things about their burgers and we both wanted to check it out. It's a nice, almost club-like atmosphere with dim lighting, velvet ropes, open air architecture and a general atmosphere of hip sexuality. Toss in some women, alcohol and meat eating and the potentials are endless.

Ordering is simple. Just saunter on up to the bar and tell the bartenders your order. The menu is diverse with lots of interesting choices but we decided to stay with the basics: bacon cheeseburger and fries. While you wait, there's a selection of craft beers, wines and mixed drinks to bide your time.

From there, just find a seat and bring the number card with you. The staff will find you and bring you your food when it's ready. Liz grabbed an outside table in the middle of the action. God Bless this woman.

It took maybe fifteen minutes to get out burger and it was nice and tasty. The burger was properly cooked to medium, the bacon crisp, the veggies chilled and fresh. It was a great burger. The fries were those thin shoestring type that I find too similar to Durkee Potato Sticks for my taste but they were good too. Personally speaking, I prefer thicker cut fries with a snappy crisp and textured center.

We lingered for awhile, soaking up the atmosphere and enjoying the cool, Hollywood-esque vibe before heading out into the night.

Pancit

iPhone Home

I'm leaving on a two week trip to Los Angeles and Hawaii and I'm leaving my beloved iBook at home.

I know for many not traveling with a laptop is no big deal, but I haven't left home without a laptop in tow for almost ten years. How will I remain in communicado with the rest of the world? How will I make hotel reservations? More importantly: how will I surf for porn in lonely hotel rooms?

The answer is: iPhone. That unique little device that I'm going to give a full run for its' money over the next two weeks. I'll report more later.