Dining: East Side Story

There I was at the bar in Brew Moon, sipping a glass of Locomocha Stout and talking to a townie about how the new Blu-Water Grill had gotten off to a fast start in Hawaii Kai.

“It’s because there’s no place to eat out there,” he said. “Maybe Roy’s and the steak place next door, but where else?”

I let the “maybe Roy’s” remark pass, be-cause when there’s an internationally celebrated restaurant in your neck of the woods, you don’t have to belabor the point. Still, the whole “no place to eat” remark threw me back a couple of decades to when it was true. It’s not true anymore. East Honolulu ain’t town, but compared to West and Windward Oahu, it’s restaurant heaven.

I thought I’d spend the month exploring the East Side of the island. I started with the BluWater Grill. Then, just for fun, I found two more gems: a great hole in the wall and a great restaurant, period. So there.

BluWater Grill
Hawaii Kai Shopping Center, 377 Keahole St. 395-6224
Mon.-Sat. lunch 11-5 p.m., dinner 5-11 p.m, Fri.-Sat. until 12 midnight; Sunday brunch 10 a.m.-2:30 p.m., dinner 2:30-11 p.m.

It was about time for a boys’ night out anyway, so I called a number of gentlemen of my acquaintance and told them to meet at the new BluWater Grill in the Hawaii Kai Shopping Center. Two of them got lost.

For the East Honolulu-impaired, there are three shopping centers in Hawaii Kai. The one where you find BluWater Grill also contains Longs and Safeway, plus an excellent watch repair place.

“I didn’t even know this was here,” said one of the boys, finally stumbling upon the restaurant. “What was in this space before?” A restaurant called Portlock and, before that, a pet store. “Someone gave a pet store a waterfront location?”

Yes, though BluWater Grill has finally done something comfortable, almost cozy, with what is actually prime space. It’s got mustard walls, a pumpkin ceiling, rich wood trim, a display kitchen with a kiawe grill, and outdoor seating along the water.

I’ve heard BluWater called Ryan’s East, since it was put together by a group of Ryan’s alumni, including William Bruhl, Tanya Phillips and Deb Costello. Bruhl is chef-owner; the chef de cuisine is Harold Deltran, a veteran of Kincaid’s and Palomino.

I had no idea about the connection until we got our pupu sampler. The poke was almost an exact replica of Ryan’s—not a bad choice, since Ryan’s poke is among the best in town, full of onion and ogo, crunchy with salt.

Outside of the poke, BluWater didn’t remind me of Ryan’s at all. It’s more like Lucy’s in Kailua: casual, contemporary fine dining with a neighborhood feel. I was amazed BluWater was so jammed considering it was all of a minute or two away from Roy’s, but it’s more casual than Roy’s and less expensive—though there are some provisos here.

One of which is that the entrees are cheaper, but not the appetizers. Since the boys tend to start ordering drinks and appetizers on their way to the table, I ended up paying not only for the pupu sampler (poke, meat sticks, macadamia-crusted prawns), but also for the crab cakes (nice texture, full of crabmeat) and the inside-out California roll, which wasn’t. It was more like the “reconstructed” California roll developed by David Paul—a stack of rice, avocado, crab and ahi. Not a hit. The flavors were too muted, the sushi too heavy with some sort of wasabi cream. Nobody but me would eat this, and I wasn’t happy.

The menu promised the meat sticks on the pupu sampler would be teriyaki beef; they were chicken. I pointed out to the boys that the difference between red meat and fowl should be clear even to their martini-seared palates. However, they ordered a plate of beef skewers just to be sure. I have to admit, they were quite tasty, tender, much better than the chicken.

Among the entrees there was a rack of lamb, which was undistinguished except visually. It was stuck, bones up, in bright purple, mashed sweet potatoes. Better was the striped marlin (a fish sometimes called nairagi, other times au). This arrived Cajun-spiced, with a lively wasabi and ginger aioli. It was well-cooked, tender, meaty, good eating. However, the unexpected star of the menu was a double slab of pork ribs, chili-rubbed, with a sweet-spicy, mango-guava glaze. The ribs were such an instant classic, the portion so masculine-size, that had I known what I was doing, I would have ordered a plate for the table as I walked through the door.

Also good was the crispy, wok-fired moi. There just was one detail amiss. The server did warn us that the moi was “big enough for two.” Derek ordered it anyway. “This isn’t for two,” he said when he saw it. He proceeded to demolish every bite, no problem. It wasn’t much more moi than you get when you order the similar dish at Marbella. However, at Marbella, it costs about $25 and at BluWater it cost $40. The only way it really seemed “for two” was that it was double the price of most entrees. The server should have mentioned that small fact, since fish was designated “market price” on the menu.

Didn’t bother the boys, however, who proceeded on to dessert. Standard stuff, but they were delighted. A classic banana split with chocolate sauce and, as we used to say as kids, whipped cream and a cherry on top. There was lilikoi creme brulee with diced fruit, a melting chocolate cake with ice cream, all fine. The only real innovation was banana blintzes, the warm blintzes (think small crepe) wrapped around chocolate ganache and sliced bananas, the whole thing was sauced with swirls of rum caramel. Oh, yeah.

Dinner for four ran me $300, with a tip for the ever-patient waitress, Diane, whom the boys tried to convince to come drinking with us after. I managed to keep the bill down by ordering prosecco, the reasonably priced Italian sparkler, which actually worked well with the wide range of flavors we ordered. It was a bargain at $17 a bottle.

Le Bistro
Niu Valley Shopping Center, 5730 Kalanianaole Highway. 373-7990

Dinner nightly except Tues., 5:30-9 p.m. Free parking, major credit cards

There are now two Bistros in Honolulu. That’s going to give rise to a decade or so of confusion, as there used to be when there were two Michel’s.

There’s The Bistro, the newish, old-school restaurant at Century Center. Then there’s Le Bistro, in the Niu Valley Shopping Center. It’s next to Swiss Haus. When Martin and Jeanne Wyss ran that restaurant as the Swiss Inn, the restaurant next door never prospered. However, the Swiss Haus has let the restaurant slip in ways Wyss would never have allowed. And next door, Le Bistro is booming.

When it opened in 2001, Le Bistro earned a rep as a pretty good little neighborhood restaurant. I’ve got news for you. Since then, it has elevated itself onto the short list of first-rate Honolulu restaurants.

Chef/owner Alan Takasaki is a serious foodie, the kind of guy who spent his formative years wandering from restaurant to restaurant on the Mainland and in Europe, learning to cook. He’s the kind of guy who will shut down his restaurant for a week and take himself and some of his staff to eat at the best restaurants in San Francisco, just for inspiration.

Needless to say, his staff is young, enthusiastic, the kind of servers who are just delighted to be bringing plates out of the kitchen.

That’s because the plates are loaded with tasty stuff. Takasaki’s entrees are direct, solid fare—a tender rack of lamb, chicken breasts in bacon and mushrooms, a rib eye steak in Roquefort butter. It’s before and after the entrees, however, that he really shines.

Take something as simple as what Takasaki calls his Waimanalo crostini salad. The Waimanalo baby romaine and slices of red ripe Hauula tomatoes are served with a dressing (a balsamic vinaigrette thick with fresh Waimanalo herbs) that’s actually a dip. You dunk the little hearts of lettuce and slices of tomato. If you need more fun, the plate is punctuated by four little crostini—each topped with something tasty and different.

Then the appetizers. Ahhh. Duck crostini, ample slices of toast, topped with confit of duck and fresh tomatoes. These I could have for dinner, maybe with a bowl of soup. Then there are good-sized, soft-shelled crabs, simply sauteed, delicious. Finally, the foie gras. People tend to overdo foie gras, but Takasaki’s is elegant in its restraint. The square glass plate ends up looking like a modernist painting. Four slices of foie gras, in a clingy sauce made from reducing the pan with Calvados, the dry apple brandy from northern France. Outside of some artful swirls of flavored oils and balsamico, the plate contains in addition only a half dozen thin slices of lightly grilled apple and two big bites of aromatic cooked pear.

Takasaki’s entrees tend to be filling. In a concession to smaller appetites, he makes them in full and demi sizes. You may want the demi, because you may hear the whisper of dessert in your ear.

Listen to it. Oh, sure, you’re likely to order the chocolate bread pudding, with its vanilla ice cream. Or perhaps, thinking you’re full, you’ll order the “paradise cake,” with light layers of guava, mango and haupia sorbet. But evade the obvious.

What you really want to order, if you can’t have all the desserts, is the classic French apple tart, a thin layer of sliced apple on a puff pastry shell. I once saw the great Andre Soltner of Lutece whip up one of these elegantly simple desserts—Takasaki’s tastes just as good and is better looking. It’s an adult dessert, not too sweet, though you get a dab of ice cream to satisfy the kid in you.

A full dinner for two runs about $120, with wine by the glass, Selby chardonnay to begin and rich Coppola claret thereafter.

In case anyone tells you the only first-rate restaurant in East Honolulu is Roy’s, tell them they are wrong. There’s Le Bistro.

Antonio’s New York Pizzeria
4210 Waialae Ave. 737-3333

Tues.-Sat. 11:30 a.m.-9 p.m., Sun. 12-8 p.m. Free parking, no credit cards

Oh sure, you say, just what I need, a brace of pricey restaurants. OK, OK, I also found you an inspired hole-in-the-wall. People are always looking, usually in vain, for inexpensive, unprepossessing restaurants with great food. This is one.

Our pizza-tasting team at HONOLULU named Antonio’s the best pizza in our March “Best of Hono-lulu” issue. At that time, we’d only had its pizza out of a cardboard box. However, later, when I finally managed a conversation with co-owner Anthony Romano, I realized that Antonio’s is not just a pizzeria. It’s a restaurant, with tables and chairs and food cooked only to order. “My wife makes the cheesecake herself, one cake at a time,” he said.

Antonio’s, across from Kahala Mall on Waialae Ave., is not exactly the dressiest restaurant you’ve ever seen. Women tend to deplore the restroom. As one put it, “Freshen up at the mall and walk over.”

It’s the kind of place where there’s often a bunch of cops enjoying Code Seven at one of the tables. The cops know what they are doing. Here, the food takes everyone by surprise.

The pizza’s New York. How do you tell the difference between a New York and a California pizza? Hold up a slice. The California pizza sticks straight out. The New York slice bends under the weight of the cheese and oil. At its best, New York pizza combines a softness to the bite and a tendency to pull into long, chewy strings. Antonio’s is as close as you are going to get without a plane ticket. Advice: Get the spicy tomato sauce instead of the plain.

But there’s more than pizza. “Come on,” I said to my family. “Try it with me.” They were late. Not very patient, I ordered lots of items, just to try things. I didn’t really expect my wife and two teenage daughters to make a dent in the food.

They finished almost everything. A small pizza. A large salad of romaine heaped with salami, pepperoni, ham, olives, onions and peppers. “What’s that dressing?” asked the kids.

“That’s what Italian dressing is supposed to taste like,” I said.

There were sandwiches—sausage and peppers with a touch of marinara, grilled chicken breast with tomato, lettuce and Italian dressing. Even reasonably good vegetarian pasta.

Instead of complaints about how much food I’d ordered, there were complaints I hadn’t ordered the deep-fried mozzarella, a lack I immediately remedied.

The food is so good and so inexpensive (a 9-inch personal pizza is $3.50, sandwiches $6 and $7), you’ll be tempted to eat forever. Save room for dessert. The cannoli (pastry tubes filled with a sweetened ricotta mix) will make you wish you were born Italian. The cheesecake will just make you happy you were born. It, too, is the real East Coast deal, not too soft, crumbly, but just moist enough, not too sweet, with a rich butter and graham crust. It brought back years of East Coast memories.

East Coast, East Honolulu, it’s an interesting world.