THERE was only one rule for my summer sojourn to New York, Connecticut and Boston, and that was "no Italian food." Why settle for a cuisine so ubiquitous at home, when I could feast on falafels, street dogs boiled in 7-month-old water (maybe an urban legend, maybe not), and more exotic fare of the Himalayas and Persia unavailable in Hawaii? New York can’t
beat isle cuisineI was anxious to sample something new. In Hawaii, its so easy to feel disconnected from centers of action, but what an eye-opening experience I had. When it comes to cuisine, save for a little international diversity, we ain't' missing a thing.
I sampled little in New York worth writing home about. Meals were technically OK, but instantly forgettable in their sedate reserve. You're more likely to find excellence by chance in L.A. than by carefully plotting each dining expedition in New York.
The one restaurant that did drive me to start taking notes was Asia de Cuba, and it wasn't because the food was so great, but because the experience was so New York, so hyped, beginning with its two-month wait list.
You would think that so-called sophisticated New Yorkers would grow weary of the game, but young newbies flood the city, convinced that conversing about the hottest spots with a been-there-done-that nonchalance conveys insider credibility.
Being from out of town, I had the chutzpah to show up without reservations, dressed like a dork on a Friday night. Real smooth. Nevertheless, the elegant staffers let me in. A quick change in the ladies room into my urban uniform -- spaghetti-strap top and extra slim, knee-grazing skirt with asymmetrical front slit, just so -- and I was presentable for the only seats left, in the bar.
Sitting in the bar was fine, with its proximity to ringside balcony seats in a room both modern and retro, draped on all four sides with billowy, candlelight-reflecting white curtains. Dining room tables are small squares, with barely enough room for a plate and wine glass. In the bar, we could always pull up one of the decorative wood stumps for a makeshift table.
THE restaurant management has the audacity to set a $25 minimum per guest, no doubt because the generous size of some of the pupu makes it possible for two to dine on one $13.50 appetizer, such as the calamari salad. This was a 7-inch stack of lettuce, hearts of palm, banana, chicory, radicchio and crispy calamari, sprinkled with a light sesame-orange dressing.
I loved their take on poke, a dish dubbed "tunapica" ($15). Imagine squishy ahi mixed with slivers of tart Spanish olives, crunchy almonds, chewy, sweet black currants and coconut flakes, and a soy-lime vinaigrette with a hint of ginger. Textures and flavors were wonderful.
I'll admit to making a poor entree selection. I was overwhelmed by visions of Cuban coffee-and-vanilla lacquered duck chow-chow ($24), hacked lime and garlic chicken ($21.50) and lamb pan-seared with a sofrito (a sauce of stir-fried peppers), onions and eggplant ($26.50), and went for simplicity. As it turns out, my Siracha barbecued pork ($19.50) was dry and accompanied by hoisin sauce. Boring!
The restaurant redeemed itself with a pot of lobster "mai thai" ($45), swimming in a sweet broth of rum, coconut milk, red curry and wok-crispy bonito and flecked with lemongrass and green onion. I would advise them to mince the lemongrass more finely. It is great as an accent; not so great when you bite down into slice that looks like a round of green onion.
I don't remember dessert. Either I ate so much on the trip that my meals became one big blur, or it was just that great.
Prices: $50 to $70 for two without drinks
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Nadine Kam's restaurant reviews run on Thursdays. Reviews are conducted anonymously and paid for by the Star-Bulletin. Star ratings are based on comparisons of similar restaurants:
-- excellent;
To recommend a restaurant, write: The Weekly Eater, P.O. Box 3080, Honolulu, Hawaii 96802. Or send e-mail to features@starbulletin.com
