Going ’round Waikiki
Not every city can boast of a rotating restaurant. Honolulu, as progressive and aggressive as it was back in the optimistic decade following statehood, had two.
The first was La Ronde, on the 23rd floor of the Ala Moana Building. It opened in November 1961, preceding Seattle's Space Needle, centerpiece of the 1962 World's Fair. The Top of Waikiki followed in October 1965.
Naturally, diners flocked to the towers. Not so much for the meals, but for the 360-degree views mauka, makai and sideways, as the restaurants, slowly they turned, like 33s on a turntable, one rotation per hour. A typical meal would take three revolutions to complete, and hopefully, end up as close to the exit as possible to avoid walking in a half circle like the poor waiters, who may have required a seaman's instinct to navigate the varying distances from kitchen to tables all night.
After a while, having seen the views and having crossed over from the jet age into the information era and its attendant cultural overload, diners moved on. The revolving restaurant was no longer a symbol of the modern era, but a quaint relic of its time. Foodies flocked to restaurants with superstar chefs or ethnic authenticity. Others found comfort in theme restaurants build around favorite foods like burgers, steaks and cheesecakes.
La Ronde succumbed to progress and was converted into an office with great views, but the world still turns for patrons of Top of Waikiki. Chances are, it'll stay that way, having hit that nostalgic sweet spot in which it's no longer old, but retro cool and totally new to a couple of generations that have come of dining age.
Stepping from the stationary reception area onto the revolving floor, you may not even notice it's moving (the ride at La Ronde was quite jerky in its later days). Some people find the changes of scenery a little disorienting, though, and swear that discombobulated feeling leads to less alcohol intake. Good news for MADD, if not for the restaurant's bottom line.
Seating is arranged around a central bar that looms over diners like the alien craft in Steven Spielberg's "Close Encounters of the Third Kind." Very cool.
JAMM AQUINO / JAQUINO@STARBULLETIN.COM
The Top of Waikiki Restaurant sits gallantly above Kalakaua Avenue, making for some of Honolulu's best views when dining.
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AS WAIKIKI RESTAURANTS go, Top of Waikiki is fairly accessible, in the Waikiki Business Plaza with easy parking. Catch the elevators to the 18th floor, where renovation work is being done, and two escalators to the 21st floor. Locals might feel compelled to dress up, but for tourists, it's Bermudas casual.
After a brief wait in the reception area -- the hostess, too, must navigate her way around the floor -- you're seated on one of three levels on this slow-moving merry-go-round. The restaurant has won much more kamaaina patronage since Sean Priester, known for his work at Sunset Grill and Wild Mushroom at the YWCA, came on board as head chef. He brings an updated Pacific Rim sensibility to the menu while retaining some of the dishes true to the restaurant's period heritage, such as Beef Wellington ($36), filet mignon in puffed pastry, also born in the '60s, and so old it'll actually be new to many.
Other vestiges of the old surf-and-turf menus Waikiki was once famous for are recast in a 1990s way, as with a steak and shrimp napoleon ($32) skewered and stacked one upon the other over a base of risotto cake and grilled portobella mushroom, or 1970s vintage duck l'orange, brought forward into the fusion-friendly era by easing up on the orange and mingling in flavors of tea, smoke and ginger.
But back up for a while to the appetizers. This is the sort of place where you could have a very nice and varied meal of starters alone; with entrées, you pay the Waikiki premium, even though Priester does his best to make it worthwhile, punching up dishes with lots of ingredients -- it's Broadway, rather than a symphony concert -- and it's pretty clear he has fun in the kitchen. Those who prefer their meals more sedate might look elsewhere.
Start with broiled Hamakua and wild mushrooms ($9), or two pan-seared jumbo scallops ($9) topped with slow-cooked Italian bacon. Skip the crab cakes ($9) that are more bready than crabby.
I thoroughly enjoyed a couple of asparagus "crudités" ($9) topped with lemon mayonnaise, cracked pepper, prosciutto and Parmesan, and, doubling up on the greens, a spinach salad ($8) with goat cheese, tomatoes and deviled eggs drizzled with a hot dressing of blackberry balsamic vinaigrette accented with slices of pancetta.
It's easy to get tired of risotto, but Priester keeps his curried seafood version ($26) interesting with a plethora of flavors and textures, from the crunch of diced zucchini and summer squash to the squishiness of tender bay shrimp and scallops, the spiciness of a fresh tomato salsa and aromatic touch of pesto.
For dessert, strawberries and chocolate fondue is a treat. This also comes with dry puff pastry that, thankfully, I didn't have to touch because the strawberries were plentiful, but I suppose even these starchy puffs might be OK if you could get enough chocolate around them.
