For my first foray into food blogging, I'm going to break from my not-yet-formed tradition of writing about my experiences cooking food. Instead, I'd like to start with something
else I love: food cooked FOR me.
Ram (my new husband, for those of you not in the know) and I returned from the island of Kauai in the state of Hawai'i (yea for the battles we won to gain that piece of property!) just over a week ago. We had a simple wedding: the two of us, our toes in the sand, being serenaded by a barefoot minister blowing a conch shell. Now, we all know that one of the most important aspects of a wedding is the reception that follows. And the most important aspect of the reception is the food. I consider myself a non-traditional bride, but the one thing I could not abide was ignoring the importance of eating something amazing on the day of my wedding.
Enter Roy Yamaguchi. Well, not exactly. Roy was conspicuously absent. Surely he was off winning another James Beard Award. At any rate, enter
Roy's Poipu Bar and Grill chefs. And thank God they entered.
I made a reservation for a reasonable time: 6 pm. We were one of, maybe, fifteen tables seated at that time. People in Hawaii, like people in Boston or NYC, evidently eat later. Not that I cared. I was starving, and I had cultivated high expectations since I watched Roy participate (and sadly, lose) on Top Chef Masters. I was ready to be wowed.
The server was kind, soft-spoken, and clearly a little green. She stumbled over her words and created awkward silences. But her heart was in the right place. My favorite service, though, I'll admit, was the gentlemen who kept my water glass full. Never underestimate the need to stay hydrated during an amazing meal. Or during grueling physical activity.
Ram and I opted for the
Prix Fixe menu, which saved us a little money but did not rob us of a tastebud orgasm. (By the way, that is my description. I reckon Ram would choose a slightly different phrase.) We started with chicken and mint spring rolls. We each received one (okay, a little light on the app, but it's "fine dining"), sliced in the middle, arranged on a sauce of something tangy and surprising. The spring roll, unlike those purchased at the mall or at just about any Asian restaurant, was flaky and light. I will attest that I spotted not one drop of errant cooking oil on the plate, and my mouth filled with the steam and fragrance of chicken and mint. The appetizer was fantastic, a crunchy exploration of simple ingredients. The meal was looking good.
As far as the entrees were concerned, the Prix Fixe menu offered three options, two of which were fish. Being a bit of a land-lubber, I opted for the third option: honey-mustard short ribs. I had never eaten short ribs before, but I had seen them cooked on television countless times. I know that they need to cook (braise, specifically) for a long period of time in order to break down the muscle and to ensure the meat is fork tender. These short ribs were, clearly, the best I will ever eat in my life. I hesitate to order them again for fear of comparison to Roy's. The plate was loaded with meat, far more than I normally consume, but it had the intense flavor of a well-cooked (not well-done) roast beef. The honey-mustard was used sparingly, and when the flavor hit my tongue, it was a shocking experience. The sides were simple: steamed vegetables and a potato gratin carefully cut into a single large circle and torched for that crunchy, delectable burnt cheese flavor. The plate was a culinary work of art.
I ate the beef. I mean, let's be real. It looked like enough for two people. Any nutritionist would suffer heartbreak watching me scarf it down. But there was no way in all that is Holy Roy's Bar and Grill that I was letting that hot, just-out-of-the-oven, juicy meat go to waste. And I sure as heck wasn't going to nuke it in a microwave later. So I ate it. Ever last thread of it.
But the Prix Fixe was not over yet. Ram and I each got a dessert. His was a chocolate souffle, complete with a hidden river of steamy chocolate within. It was far more chocolate than either of us normally consumes, but we managed to finish. Let's just say, we chased it with my Apple Volcano, a hot apple tart served with macadamia nut ice cream and-- I struggle to find the words-- the crispiest, sweetest, most uniquely prepared apple skin I have ever consumed. The ribbons of skin were sliced paper thin and somehow treated to taste like candy apple. I ate those first, savoring each ribbon of appley goodness with, I'm sure, embarrassing groans.
It was a stunning end to a stunning day. And the best caterer on earth (unless Roy Yamaguchi caters) could never have touched this food experience. If you find yourself in any of his dozens of locations, I beg you: ignore the prices on the right side of the menu and overlook the fact that Roy's has gone viral with his franchise. The food speaks of local love and a true appreciation for balance and fine dining.
I leave you with fork in hand.
