Breakfast Scenes Around O‘ahu

JESSICA’S KITCHEN

Bangus and Hash Browns in ‘Aiea

Phil Collins is crooning on the playlist when I slide into a banquette at Jessica’s Kitchen. Opened last year on the second floor of Westridge Shopping Center, the modest diner has drawn me with its promise of Filipino breakfasts coupled with American and local classics. Eggs benedicts, loco mocos and macadamia nut pancakes feature on one side of the menu; adobo fried rice omelets, lechon kawali and tocino on the other. I go with a plate from the breakfast meats section: fried bangus milkfish with fresh hash browns and two sunny-side up eggs.

“Oh, think twice,” Collins warns. “’Cause it’s another day for you and me in paradise.”

On a rainy Friday midmorning, I feel the luck of privilege—on assignment to find compelling breakfasts anywhere on the island, with a modest expense account and a schedule flexible enough to avoid weekend crowds. Two ladies at the next table are living a similar food-driven fantasy. One from Waipahu, the other from ‘Ewa Beach, they drive to Wahiawā for Shige’s Saimin when the urge hits, or Fresh Bites in Mō‘ili‘ili for their favorite ube pancakes. Today, they’re trying Jessica’s.

When my bangus plate arrives, the butterflied fish juicy inside a translucent crust, the lady from Waipahu orders one too. Her ‘Ewa Beach friend gets the fried chicken and waffles, a stack that towers 6 inches off the plate.

“And it’s me you need to show,” she sings along with the Bee Gees, “how deep is your love?”

We watch massive plates of Jessica Mocos cross the room, the rice capped with brisket corned beef hash and house-made burger patties. Booths are filling up with couples running errands and seniors babysitting grandkids fresh out on summer break.

“The fried chicken is good. You know how I can tell? I ate most of it, but even cold, it’s still tender. You wanna try some?” the lady from ‘Ewa Beach offers.

I wish I’d taken her up on that. Her Waipahu friend says she’ll order the bangus again; so would I. The deboned fish, its light flour dredge before frying, the whipped butter that comes with the waffles—small details up simple dishes from ordinary to go-tos. Had I thought of it, I would have smothered my fish with the eggs, broken the yolks and drizzled the salty-sour sauce over all. And I would have left with a takeout order of corned beef and cabbage—because how many places serve this year-round?—or what’s billed as the Chef’s Award-Winning Ribeye Stew, because I’m a sucker for stew. I’ll just have to come back. —MT

98-150 Ka‘ōnohi St. 2F, ‘Aiea, (808) 900-2864, jessicaskitchen808.com, @jessicasrestaurant808

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SANDY’S CAFÉ

Hong Kong-Style Toast and Roast Duck in Chinatown

At 9 a.m. at Sandy’s Café, nearly every table, including one with faculty from the acupuncture school on the second floor, has an order of roast duck and a plate of sautéed ong choy. “I come here every week,” says one of the teachers. Open since early in the pandemic, Sandy’s is a magnet for Chinese-speaking regulars. It used to have more classic Hong Kong cha chaan teng breakfast sets, like one with ham and macaroni soup, Spam and egg and toast, plus milk tea. Are there fewer of these now because the roast meats are really the highlight?

My theory is borne out when HONOLULU dining editor Mari Taketa stops in. “We are the only authentic Hong Kong-style cha chaan teng,” Sandy Cheng, the owner, tells her, “because we have roast meats. Most popular cha chaan teng nowadays have roast meat.”

I try to pretend I’m in classic Hong Kong and order the French toast (like an eggy peanut butter sandwich) and satay beef with rice noodles (its curry-tinged broth makes it taste like Singapore-style noodles in soup form). But I long for the meats hanging over the butcher block counter. I’m all for trying to conjure the nostalgia of cha chaan teng, but it’s hard to get excited about macaroni soup when bronzed roast ducks and char siu with fatty, caramelized edges are literally dangling in front of you. Especially when Sandy’s roast meats are some of my favorites in town.

I order a plate of them to go for lunch. But next time, I’ll just get them for breakfast, along with a red bean shave ice, like one takeout customer did. Aren’t “breakfast foods” just a construct anyways? —MC

Chinatown Cultural Plaza, 100 N. Beretania St., Chinatown, (808) 200-0468

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NICO’S PIER 38

Saimin in Iwilei

Even at 7:15 on a Saturday morning, forklifts and cargo vans zoom across the parking lot around Nico’s Pier 38. The ocean view here is not merely a backdrop—Nico’s opens up to a fully functioning harbor that is home to the Honolulu Fish Auction, the largest food producer in the state, moving up to 90,000 pounds of fish a day.

Breakfast service stretches awake with the auction. The restaurant opens at 6:30 a.m.—an hour after bidding starts for ‘ahi, aku, swordfish, monchong and other seafood freshly offloaded from nearby boats. Nico’s chefs cart their auction prizes next door to the restaurant and carve them into pristine fillets before they hit the frying pans. You order at the restaurant’s fish market, where handsome ‘ahi slabs and trays of fresh poke line a chill case, then pick up your breakfast in compostable containers and select your quiet perch in the dining room to take in the morning.

I’m here all the time but admire the menu on every visit. I can’t resist the satisfying litany of auction-fresh fish and eggs, fish omelets and saimin with fillets. The menu includes crowd pleasers, too, like steaming mounds of fried rice, loco moco and pancakes with liliko‘i butter. Typically, the two fish selections include ‘ahi and one other. The guys in yellow work vests ahead of me order the Pier 38 Saimin, which inspires me to do the same. Along with Spam, kamaboko, egg and green onion, it comes with a choice of fish. I choose ‘ahi.

At lunch and dinner, Nico’s booms with live music. But mornings bring calm. Sabrina Carpenter and The Green play in the background as aunties gossip over loco mocos, uncles tuck into trays of fried rice and dockworkers relax after their shifts. Some mornings, groups arrive after auction tours (I’m still wondering about the time a contingent showed up from the indoor tour wearing actual fishing vests). Today, a tall man leans out to take a picture of the view, framing the dramatic geometries of shipping containers and towering cranes against the blues of sea and sky.

Watching the scene, I am struck by its equal parts grit and grace—an unassuming moment of peace and acceptance as easygoing as hot saimin. —NC

1129 N. Nimitz Highway, Iwilei, (808) 540-1377, nicospier38.com, @nicospier38

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JACK’S RESTAURANT

Of Neighbors and Biscuits in ‘Āina Haina

“That’s what I always get, too!” says the diner at the table next to me when I give my usual order at Jack’s Restaurant: fish “Hawaiian” style (with garlic salt) and eggs sunny-side up, hash browns, grilled biscuit. It’s quiet at 7 a.m. on a weekday. While the line grows at the McDonald’s drive-thru nearby, just three tables are occupied at Jack’s.

There for 62 years (though it has since changed hands from the original owners), it’s the kind of place where regulars run into neighbors and pull up a chair at the table. The menu is typical diner fare—pancakes, omelets, club sandwiches—with only-in-Hawai‘i curveballs on the so-called “daily specials” board (I’ve never seen the board change except for the taped-on prices).

The man at the nearby table peruses the board that includes Chinese mushroom chicken, Spanish tripe and sweet-sour spareribs. He settles on the Hawaiian chop steak. He says he comes here every day when he’s painting houses on this side of the island, but for the final week of the job, instead of the fish and eggs, he’s trying something different. The arrival of his chop steak leads to a conversation about how much he loves the chop steak at Kapi‘olani Coffee Shop, which leads to the pastele at Jackie’s Diner, and then to the hamburger steak at the new Marujuu Japanese Hamburg & Steak.

Why is it that so many conversations with strangers in Hawai‘i feel like Russian nesting dolls? As does the history of places: It’s news to me that the McDonald’s in ‘Āina Haina was the first in Hawai‘i when it debuted in 1968, though its original Dickey-roofed structure was razed in 2011 to make way for the current boxy building and two-lane drive-thru. And Maurice Sullivan, the co-founder of Foodland, brought McDonald’s to the Islands.

Sometimes, the line between old and new and mom-and-pop and corporate is a lot like Jack’s famous biscuits: neither biscuit nor muffin, but somewhere in between. Nearly everything around Jack’s has shifted, and even within Jack’s—in the decade since I’ve been going, basa has replaced mahi in the fish and eggs—but these fluffy, griddled biscuits with whipped honey butter have withstood it all. —MC

820 W. Hind Drive, #119, ‘Āina Haina, (808) 373-4034, jacksrestauranthonolulu.com

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THE SUNRISE SHACK

Smoothie Bowls on the North Shore

Following a tip from a surfer, I expect The Sunrise Shack to be teeming with bronzed bodies fresh off a wave. But at 9:30 a.m., there are more chickens than patrons—a reality the owners have leaned into, selling “grateful chickens of The Sunrise Shack” stickers among branded trucker hats, dried apple bananas, and popcorn made by the owners’ father.

Under the shade of a large mango tree, a steady stream of folks stops by the bright yellow shack for smoothies and açaí bowls. A woman wearing a Sunrise Shack tee has five kids in tow. The younger ones, freckled and peeling, find snails in the ti and pua kalaunu planters while the older girls browse swimsuits for sale. More customers arrive and I lose track of which blond child, mouth smeared with peanut butter from a Monkey Bowl, belongs to whom. Their shrieks and chatter mix with the clucking of chickens and reggae rock playing over speakers.

I grab my papaya bowl from the counter. Filled with granola, fruits, seeds and peanut butter, it’s a longtime favorite. On the menu with loaded toasts and sandwiches, I’m surprised to see bulletproof coffees made with grass-fed butter and coconut and MCT oils. The fad seems to have died out everywhere but here, where a diagram touts its mental clarity, clean-burning energy and weight loss benefits. Mine goes down smooth, transporting me to 2016 like the Great Meme Reset.

That’s the year that brothers Alex, Travis and Koa Smith and their friend Koa Rothman—all surfers—opened this first Sunrise Shack between world-class breaks at Waimea Bay and Pūpūkea. String lights and platitudes like “today is a good day” contribute to a nostalgic vibe that has made it ripe for franchising. Five more locations from Ala Moana Center to Kaimukī copy its sunny yellows in urban settings; a seventh opened this year in Long Beach, California, and an eighth was slated for Hale‘iwa in June.

Finally, after an hour, a surfer pulls up in a silver GMC—Rothman himself. On this overcast Wednesday midmorning, the laid-back hangout isn’t the surfer magnet I was expecting. Maybe it’s simply found its niche as a throwback to slower days spent splashing in tide pools and enjoying an açaí bowl. —KV

59-712 Kamehameha Highway, Hale‘iwa, (808) 888-0959, sunriseshackhawaii.com, @sunriseshack

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Martha Cheng is the former dining editor of HONOLULU Magazine and now a contributor.

Noelle Chun is a contributor to HONOLULU Magazine.

Mari Taketa is the dining editor of HONOLULU Magazine and editor of Frolic Hawai‘i.

Katrina Valcourt is the executive editor of HONOLULU Magazine.