Spirit of Aloha | Articles | Adventures in Dining | July/August 2004

Adventures in Dining
By LEN TAKUSHI

Dinner With Tiki

Mohandas Gandhi once said, “There is more to life than increasing its speed.”

Then again, Gandhi probably never had to stew in early-evening traffic more than an hour late for a dinner reservation.

The irony was delicious. There I sat, my blood pressure rising like Michelle Wie’s Q rating, waiting for the sea of vehicles to clear enough so I could reach my destination. My assignment? Reviewing a trio of O‘ahu restaurants that rekindle memories of Old Hawai‘i—places that exude romance, breathe relaxation and serve up some of our Islands’ simplest (and most delightful) pleasures.

“This is ridiculous,” I thought, watching helplessly as a snail inched its way in front of my Honda. “How can I even think about ‘great dining escapes’ when I’m reaching a slow boil in bumper-to-bumper traffic?”

Obviously, I’m no Gandhi.

We eventually reached Duke’s Canoe Club Waikiki, the popular seafood restaurant at the Outrigger Waikiki Hotel. The greeter was gracious and understanding—“Traffic was pretty messy out there, huh?”—and she immediately escorted us to a table overlooking the beach. Torches danced evocatively under the pale moonlight, and soothing Hawaiian melodies seemed to perfectly complement the sounds of the gentle ocean waves just a short distance away.

I could feel the stress melting from my body.

Duke’s is named in honor of Duke Kahanamoku, Hawai‘i’s surfing legend and Olympic champion. Among the restaurant’s décor, which includes rich koa-wood paneling, distinctive touches of bamboo and lauhala, and an outrigger canoe, it is the collection of memorabilia that stands out. You could spend hours examining the framed photographs of Duke posing with his fellow beachboys, as well as rubbing elbows with luminaries the likes of Joe DiMaggio, Prince Charles and Amelia Earhart.

For my dinner companion and me, however, the browsing could wait. We were hungry. Still angry at the notion of a snail passing me on the road, I searched for escargot on the appetizer menu. Alas, we had to settle for Mac Nut and Crab Wontons with a mustard plum sauce and Claypot Chicken Spring Rolls with cilantro and hoisin peanut sauce. Every bite ignited soft explosions of Pacific Rim flavors. Both starters make my “highly recommend” list.

For our entrées, my friend ordered the Huli Huli Chicken, a grilled chicken breast marinated in garlic, ginger and soy sauce. I went with the Top Sirloin Steak. “You can’t go wrong with steak,” my friend reasoned.

The steak was prepared to perfection: tender, juicy and bursting with flavor. My friend enjoyed her chicken as well, although I thought it was a little on the salty side.

For dessert, we shared Duke’s famous Hula Pie, a gigantic heap of macadamia nut ice cream piled on a chocolate cookie crust and topped with whipped cream, chocolate fudge and more macadamia nuts. It was at this point that any lingering stress I had was swept away into the Waikiki night.

A couple of nights later, we ventured back into Waikiki, this time to visit the Shore Bird Restaurant & Beach Bar at the Outrigger Reef Hotel. The setting has the look of an old plantation house, with tasteful design elements incorporating white shutters and tropical lauhala fans. The Shore Bird, like Duke’s, is open to the beach, making it a great spot to sip a tropical cocktail and take in the sunset.

The unique aspect here is that the diners grill their own food. After enjoying a zesty appetizer (Vegetable Spring Rolls with spicy peanut sauce), we ordered our entrées and headed to the all-you-can-eat salad bar. We loaded our plates with salad greens, fresh pineapple, rolls, cheese, pasta, rice, lomilomi salmon, poke and poi. The salad bar delivers a meal in itself.

Soon, our server brought our main course—I ordered a 12-ounce cut of Paniolo Rib Eye Steak, while my friend again chose the chicken breast—and pointed us toward the large communal grill.

I’m not particularly adept at cooking on the grill—yes, you can go wrong with steaks—so I was slightlyconcerned. We seasoned the hand-carved slabs of meat to our liking, then carefully placed them on the grill. Nearly a dozen other hungry diners were cooking along with us. My lone thought was, “Watch the meat—don’t make a fool of yourself by turning your steak into a charred Slim Jim.”

But, lo and behold, less than 15 minutes later, I was back at our table, enjoying one of the best steaks I’ve had in recent memory. My dinner companion raved about her chicken as well. Perhaps everything does taste better when you grill it yourself.

A word to the wise: Invariably, one side of the grill is going to be comfortable, while the other side will be almost unbearably hot. Check which way the wind is blowing. Usually, it’s better to face Diamond Head rather than cook with your back to it.

Our third stop is located beyond downtown Honolulu, tucked discreetly along the waterfront at Ke‘ehi Lagoon in the industrial area off Sand Island Access Road. For nearly 50 years, La Mariana Sailing Club has been a favorite hideaway for kama‘aina. What’s more, owner and founder Annette Nahinu, almost 90 years young, still oversees the restaurant’s operations, making sure everything is just as it should be.

Regulars here regard the restaurant as “Old Waikiki” at its finest. Literally. The rattan chairs are from the old Don the Beachcomber’s, some of the chandeliers were taken from Trader Vic’s and other adornments are remnants of some of Honolulu’s long-gone, tropical-themed nightclubs. While the Shore Bird and Duke’s are elegantly appointed, the décor here looks like everything was simply thrown together: carved tikis, glass floats in fish nets and shell chandeliers are among the hodgepodge of adornments here. And guess what? It works.

The menu is standard. For appetizers, we can vouch for the sautéed mushrooms, marinated in garlic and white wine, and the tako poke (a local delicacy made with octopus and onions marinated in soy sauce). My companion had the Seafood Brochette (a skewer of shrimp, scallops, mahimahi and fresh vegetables), while I ordered the Angus Prime Rib. Everything was good, but nothing particularly memorable.

People come here for the atmosphere. For ambience, La Mariana can’t be beat. A piano bar sits in the middle of the restaurant, and the musicians seem like a bunch of old friends jamming together at a backyard lü‘au. Impromptu sing-alongs are bound to happen at any time, and Nahinu herself makes it a point to stop by and thank you for coming.

Here, it's easy to forget about traffic jams, office politics, family squabbles and overdue bills. At La Mariana, life is always good in the old style.

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