Organic oasis

Delicious, healthful fare is the reward for those who journey to Waianae's Kahumana Cafe

By Nadine Kam 

POSTED: 01:30 a.m. HST, Sep 29, 2010

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CRAIG T. KOJIMA / CKOJIMA@STARADVERTISER.COM

Chef Ranjith Ramanakumar plates Ginger Garlic Mahimahi at Kahumana Cafe. Behind him is café director and manager Robert Zuckerman.

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Last year, a ringed-neck parakeet flew into my life, and, long story short, I found him an excellent home in Waianae where he now lives with his new mate in a large outdoor flight aviary. On visiting with him, I asked his new family if they had heard of an organic restaurant nearby.

They looked at me as if I were crazy. I was going a little crazy trying to find it myself. "Organic, here?" was their response; the subtext being, "Good luck with that."

Waianae is not the first place people usually think of when it comes to progressive food movements, but that is what has been going on at Kahumana Farms for more than 30 years.

The farm is rooted in the philosophy of Waldorf Schools founder Rudolf Steiner. He grew up in the aftermath of the Industrial Revolution, when the rural lifestyle that had sustained people for generations lost ground to technology and urban centers, the result being the displacement of human beings and a feeling of disconnect from nature.

Steiner looked to the farm and agriculture as the route back to well-being, considering the farm not only as a place of physical sustenance but a place that encourages personal growth and community consciousness.

With Steiner's ideas in mind, Father Philip Harmon and the late Frances Sydow co-founded the Kahumana organization in 1974, providing outreach services for the needy in Waikiki and Makiki. Their aim was to establish a farm for biodynamic agriculture that would help feed people, provide economic activities and become a center for holistic healing.

Today, in addition to raising crops on 14 acres, the Kahumana organization also manages transitional housing at Ohana Ola O Kahumana and Ulu Ke Kukui.

The cafe is the newest development, having opened its doors late last fall with the aim of serving as a job training site, as well as a model for sustainability, healthy living and eating.

"We had no idea who would come," said cafe director and manager Robert Zuckerman. "We were hoping to reach the local community because there's so many in this area who don't eat well and have so many health issues."

Food served at the cafe offers an alternative to a high-cholesterol, refined-sugar diet, and Zuckerman said, "Some try it and come back; others are like, 'It's not my style.'"

Almost a year later, the cafe is also welcoming visitors from across the island and fielding many requests to open a second branch in Honolulu. That day may come, but for now, they're trying to remain true to the farm's initial vision, while striking a balance with the foodies showing up for what Zuckerman calls "whole-food cooking" and agricultural ambience. The big-picture vision is admirable, but townies faced with a 60-plus-mile two-way drive also want to know, is the food worthwhile?

Let's just say many a visitor has left Waianae wishing the restaurant could be transplanted to Honolulu due to dishes that are both healthful and delicious, from the humblest beet and pea soups, to plates accompanied by greens fresh from the farm.

The menu is small but well-balanced. Salads are to be expected, but you'll also find daily specials that might include burgundy beef, Hungarian goulash, teriyaki beef or chicken curry.

When I visited, there was a delicious meatloaf of grass-fed Maui beef, with a generous amount of chopped Swiss chard and herbs mixed in with the beef. As the daily special ($10 to $12), it came with a choice of soup or salad.

Start with homemade hummus and pita bread ($5) or a huge caprese ($10) with farm greens. Quesadillas ($8) comprise whole wheat tortillas topped with cheddar-jack cheese and avocado to which you could add grilled chicken for an extra $3.

Whole-wheat pasta stirred with macadamia nut pesto ($10) was another of my favorite dishes, served with stir-fried farm greens (on that day, chopped kale), and a choice of salad or soup. Add grilled ahi, chicken or garlic butter shrimp for $3.

Other light offerings are a Greek or Mexican veggie wrap ($8 each). Add grilled ahi or shrimp for $3. Both start with tomato, cucumber, olive tapenade and mixed greens. The difference is the cheese -- feta on the Greek, cheddar on the Mexican -- and avocado on the latter. The Greek tastes Greek; the Mexican could have used a salsa assist.

For dessert there is cheesecake ($3), often with seasonal fruit toppings, carrot cake, banana bread and dense chocolate brownie that's almost like fudge.

Tip well, as cafe proceeds and tips serve as donations supporting Kahumana Farms endeavors.

Richo's hybrid menu has bright spots

By Nadine Kam 

POSTED: 01:30 a.m. HST, Sep 22, 2010

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Visiting chef Eun Myoung Hee, above, of Richo in Tokyo prepares a specialty of beef tongue at the new Richo restaurant in Kaimuki.

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For too long, the rallying cry for the Internet and its myriad blogs and websites -- to the detriment of, ahem, old media -- has been "information wants to be free."

Maybe so, but as a writer, I'd really like to continue getting paid for my work.

A similar rallying cry might apply to restaurants, although consumers have either been slow or sympathetic to the plight of the small restaurateur. I've noticed since the recession hit that restaurants initially increased entree prices to keep up with overhead. They turned next to adding or increasing cost of incidentals like soft drinks, appetizers and sometimes, even the bread we've come to expect for free.

But unlike information, perhaps food doesn't want to be free ... anymore. (Not that it ever was, but costs could be better hidden before.)

Keep that in mind at Richo, where the first thing that glares at you from the menu is the cost of banchan. Say what?

Surely, banchan wants to be free. It is the minimum show of hospitality we've come to expect from a Korean restaurant.

Ah, but Richo is actually part of a Japanese chain, that, like so many from the land of the rising sun, is wending its way west. Hawaii has always been the logical stepping stone by virtue of some shared culture and heritage. Yet, I can't help thinking maybe they should have skipped one pond in favor of a destination where Korean traditions are less ingrained.

The cost of the banchan, at $6 for assorted namul and $3 for kim chee, isn't much, but I know it will rankle many. It's the principle of the thing. Is a restaurant going to make a show of playing the good host, or not?

Richo is at the base of Waialae Avenue, where the Japanese izakaya Momomo once stood. The monolithic black building has given way to clean white, and a plus of the location is its parking lot, though getting in is easier than reversing out.

Inside, there's a mix of standard tables and multiple, cozy tatami rooms for those who want to curl up in semiprivacy.

There's no sense being stubborn about the banchan. You still have to get the namul, a delicious assortment of tender royal ferns, bean sprouts, seasoned spinach, spicy octopus and pickled onions -- seven little dishes beautifully arranged in a bamboo basket.

Other starters include deep-fried seaweed and noodle spring rolls ($10), and Korean poke ($9) of ahi in kochujang sauce.

The restaurant betrays its roots with a reference to the Korean-style pancakes (pa jun), using the Japanese word, chigimi, plus a series of typos referring to the "panfly" nature of the crisp-fried savory egg-and-flour pancakes, with your choice of seafood and leek ($12 full order, $8 half), plain leek ($10/$7), squid and chive ($11/$7.50) or beef and yam ($12/$8) fillings. I found a half-order to be plenty for two.

You can order entrees such as kalbi ($13.50), bulkogi ($16), and beef or seafood chapchae (rice noodles $10.96) a la carte, but there's more of a show attached to the pork ($40) or beef tongue ($50) shabu-shabu for two. If you prefer a grill specialty over the soupy shabu-shabu, there's just one, pork belly ($24) for two to cook at your table. This is another dish with extra costs, at $3 for lettuce for wrapping your cooked pork, and $2 for garlic cloves. I consider these musts because pork alone (it does come with a slice of onion) would be boring.

It's nice when it's not too crowded here and the staffers have the time to help you cook the pork at your table, starting with brushing the grill with oil and rosemary. The pork is mildly flavored, so it's conceivable some might detect the herb flavor. There's none of the raunchy intense sesame and salt flavors that you'd find at most Korean restaurants.

Some of the dishes are just wrong, like, Spicy Fire Chicken ($11.80) billed as a grilled dish, but that comprises small pieces of meat sauteed in Richo's house hot sauce.

Ahi bibimbap ($10) also struck me as being more Japanese than Korean because of the raw fish and vegetable choices of cabbage slaw, lettuce and slivered carrots. It made a nice salad.

The restaurant is not bad, but I was left wondering about who the audience might be for this Korean-Japanese hybrid. It's definitely not a place for traditionalists who already have two or three favorite Korean restaurants.

Welcome back, 'Cass'

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Castagnola's Pizzeria's antipasto plate features a generous array of Capacole ham, prosciutto, salami, and mozzarella and sheets of Parmesan. 

A familiar face in the restaurant biz opens a no-frills pizzeria at Restaurant Row

By Nadine Kam 

POSTED: 01:30 a.m. HST, Sep 08, 2010

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BRUCE ASATO / BASATO@STARADVERTISER.COM

Legendary restaurateur George “Cass” Castagnola Sr., center, has a new home at Castagnola’s Pizzeria in Restaurant Row. He’s executive chef, with son John, left, as kitchen manager. Another son, George Jr., is the owner.

For many people, Castagnola's Pizzeria marks a brand new arrival on the dining scene, but the name has some deep roots on Oahu.

George "Cass" Castagnola had been running restaurants in Hawaii since the 1970s when he opened his first Castagnola's restaurant in the Manoa Marketplace in the late '80s. Beyond serving food that diners loved, the restaurant proved to be a classroom for many a budding restaurateur. Castagnola's became a template for a style of Italian restaurant popular with an entire generation, and the DNA continues to runs through such restaurants as Verbano, Paesano and Assaggio, where, just as at Castagnola's Pizzeria, Cass is simply known as "Pops."

At one point, Cass had six restaurants, but by the mid-'90s had tired of the business and made his exit. But his legend was such that diners never stopped asking about him, and every now and then I'd hear of a mainland sighting or that Cass could be found driving a cab.

In reality, both Cass and his son, also named George, could be found working for Cass' star pupil, Thomas Ky, at Assaggio.

Having said all that, it wasn't Cass' idea to re-enter the restaurant business. In fact, when George Jr. told him that he wanted to do so, he told him he was crazy.

George said the idea came up last fall, starting with his desire to bring his brother home from Oregon and reunite the family in the endeavor.

"Every Castagnola kid learned how to cook," he said, reminiscing about helping to chop vegetables "when I was old enough to walk."

Since opening, George said Pops relishes being back to greet old customers and new ones. "Now, he's very happy. I think it's come together quite well."

The Pizzeria has found a home on the site of the former Pasta & Basta at Restaurant Row, across from Bambu Bar. One of the best things about it is the rollback prices. It's as if Cass were Rip Van Winkle, asleep for 20 years and setting menu prices as they were when the first Castagnola's opened.

The trade-off is that some of the frills are gone, hence the creation of a "pizzeria," rather than full-fledged "restaurant." Some may miss tablecloths and a profusion of basil and red wine in the tomato sauce. Some may not notice the difference, and some may prefer this simple comfort cuisine.

Even so, diners will be happy to find more than pizza, which comprises only a small portion of the menu.

Forget about its predecessor's pizzas. The old wood-burning pizza oven remains only for show. The new one is in the back, and there's only one style of pizza, thick with tomato sauce and cheese ($6.90), to which you can add your choice of eight ingredients for a dollar each. These are just the basics: pepperoni, sausage, meatballs, Capacole ham, mushrooms, green peppers, onion, and tomato and basil.

The first time I tried the restaurant, it was via takeout for a quick lunch because I work in the building. I didn't fall in love with the straightforward, rather bland and minimalist marinara topping the linguine and meatballs ($8.90). But I warmed to the dine-in experience, cocooned in the calming green interior -- a vast change from the harsh orange of Pasta & Basta.

Presentation made all the difference, not to mention the fact that, if you find the flavors bland, you're plied with all the Parmesan and red pepper your heart desires.

Castagnola's Pizzeria's shrimp linguine.

An antipasto plate ($7.90) features a generous array of Capacole ham, prosciutto, salami, and mozzarella and Parmesan cheese. Olives were canned black, rather than kalamatas or others more exotic, but it didn't bother me. Combined with the complimentary bread and a salad, this might be all some people need. Those salads, at $3.90 for tossed greens, and $4.90 for Caesar or seasonal tomatoes, are single portions, so don't be surprised by their small size. You get what you pay for and produce is expensive.

The marinara works well in richer dishes such as lasagna ($9.90) and eggplant Parmesan ($8.90), generous on mozzarella and Parmesan and with two layers of breaded eggplant.

And there's no skimping on pasta portions. If you're starting with appetizers or a salad, you'll likely go home with leftovers. Shrimp linguine ($10.90) in your choice of a garlic or spicy sauce would rival that of any $20 restaurant, and there's also linguine with clam sauce ($8.90), shrimp scampi ($10.90) or calamari scampi ($10.90) if you're bored by the usual shrimp.

I haven't tried the desserts yet, which include gelato or sorbetto ($3.90), cannoli ($3.90) and zabaglione ($4.90), but with such close proximity, you can bet I'll be back. Soon.

New restaurants offer promising vegetarian options

By Nadine Kam 

POSTED: 01:30 a.m. HST, Sep 01, 2010

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JAMM AQUINO / JAQUINO@STARADVERTISER.COM

The lunchtime crowd is reflected in a mirror at Peace Cafe in Moiliili.

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Ask and ye shall receive. I've long bemoaned the dearth of vegetarian restaurants in Honolulu. All of a sudden we have two new options, both opened over summer.

Question is, Can they convince a mostly meat-eating public to take a nibble when vegetarian, vegan and macrobiotic dining are more frequently associated with deprivation than joy?

Hawaii lags other major cities, where healthy options abound and cohabit with more typical fare at small corner restaurants and even fast-food outlets.

Here, eating healthy takes work and planning, too much for most people, who still need to be convinced that vegetables can be sexy-delicious and not just something added to one's plate when health issues demand a lifestyle and diet overhaul.

I've been to major restaurants from Vancouver, British Columbia, to Las Vegas that serve daily prix fixe vegetarian meals, and they've been experiences to remember. Contrast that with a typical local experience: A few years ago I saw another foodie eating at a vegetarian restaurant and days later asked her when she was going back. She said, "Once is enough."

Maybe these two will convince diners to return for more.

PEACE CAFE

Opened in May near Old Stadium Park, Peace Cafe specializes in vegan sandwiches, salads and desserts. It's a start.

The hole-in-the-wall's owner, Megumi Yamaki, grew up in Japan eating traditional meals that were big on fish and fresh vegetables, with a minimum of meat.

She'd traveled to Hawaii several times before finally making a move here about two years ago, and what she saw of plate lunches caused her to worry about the health of local people. She'd read about the high incidence of diabetes here and believed an unhealthful diet was the root of many health problems. Through an interpreter and the cafe's baker, Ari Moriya, she said it became her mission to offer healthful options.

Yamaki said she knows how hard it is to find healthful food in Hawaii. She adopted the vegan diet a decade ago and has a hard time finding restaurants where she can eat. She operated a small kiosk, Ka Liko Terrace, outside Palama Market-Makaloa, before making the move to larger quarters.

So far, sandwiches dominate the menu and are the most accessible to the nonvegan. There's nothing mysterious about the likes of an avocado-veggie sandwich ($8.10) that could use more avocado, Popeye sandwich ($8.10) of spinach and tofu dressed with miso-tahini (sesame) or a curry eggless sandwich ($8.25) in which the yellow curry flavor masks the substitution of tofu for the egg. All the sandwiches are built on soft, chewy ciabatta made specially for the restaurant by Ba-Le and are piled high with organic veggies: cucumbers, tomatoes and sprouts.

Also worth trying is a healthy version of the Caesar salad ($8.45), topped here with a cashew cream dressing with a delicate crunch.

The Peace Box ($8.50) is popular, but I'm not a fan of this sort of soy protein masquerading as meat, when vegetables and tofu should be accepted as satisfying in their own right. In this case, the too-salty teriyaki-style soy protein sits on brown rice and mimics ground beef, but it's no match in flavor or texture.

Moroccan stew ($8.45) also could be punched up with more vegetables, such as eggplant and bell pepper, instead of chickpeas alone. The flavor is good, but texturally, spoonful after spoonful of chickpeas can be monotonous.

Peace Cafe's selections of sweets can be your reward for making a healthful attempt. Moriya, who went vegan five years ago, worked for Yamaki at Ka Liko Terrace and now bakes all the cafe's desserts.

Diners will find themselves sated even though refined sugars have been replaced by maple syrup, apple juice or agave, and white flour has been replaced by more healthful whole wheat.

Moriya said she started baking 10 years ago as a hobby, creating Martha Stewart-style confections, but loves eating sweets too much to continue on that rich track. Her aim is now to create desserts that are "not too sweet, not too oily, that you can eat every day."

These include the likes of matcha green tea or apple cinnamon mochi cakes ($2 to $2.25), kinako cookies ($2.15 for two pieces), mini muffins ($1.50) and bread pudding ($2.99).

Nadine Kam photos
Loving Hut's Shrimp Moana with mock shrimp made of yam root.

LOVING HUT

Loving Hut is part of an international vegan fast-food chain, each family owned, with menus unique to their communities, so there's nothing "processed" about the food served here.

Vietnamese cooking, already high on vegetarian ingredients and palate- wakening flavors, is a natural for adding to a vegan menu, and Loving Hut offers a superb example of what can be done without a trace of meat or meat products.

As much as I'm usually against the idea of mock meat, here there is mock shrimp made from yam root, realistic to the point of having the orange bands associated with cooked shrimp.

I was studying the photos of the "shrimp" online before venturing into the restaurant and was skeptical about how it might taste, but it had the sweetness and bouncy texture similar to fishcake, which, combined with the flavors of soy, garlic and green onions, made a dish of Spicy Moana ($8.50) seem just like a shrimp stir-fry.

The mock shrimp also worked in a plainer dish of two summer rolls ($3.50), wrapped with vegetarian ham, tofu, rice noodles and veggies. And the mock shrimp turns up again in a dish of "Island Jewel," a stir-fry also featuring broccoli and onions.

Soy protein substitutes for meat in a dish of Fabulous Pho ($7.95), but because all the other typical pho ingredients are included, it won't seem much different from the noodle soups served at other Vietnamese restaurants. Only a few will be distracted by the oily, sweet broth. The pho is served with plenty of bean sprouts, basil and rice noodles, with the addition of gluten and mushrooms for heft.

Loving Hut's Guru Curry.

Lemongrass Hawaiiana ($7.95) is there for those who might normally order lemongrass chicken, pork or beef. Here, the lemony herb, peppers and spices coat soy protein sliced to resemble chicken or pork.

Other dishes are eggplant tofu ($7.95) and "Guru Curry" ($7.95) of potatoes, tofu, taro, carrots and onions in a yellow coconut-curry sauce.

A two-entree plate is $7.25, or a three-entree plate is $8.25, allowing you to sample as many dishes as possible in one sitting. Even so, I think this one will have nonvegans craving many a return trip.

Even better, it could be a template for what a meatless future could be. I'm still waiting for someone to offer more diversity and more greens/beans/nuts than processed soy proteins, but it'll take a much larger operation and commitment.

Good for the Soul

By Nadine Kam 

POSTED: 01:30 a.m. HST, Aug 25, 2010

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Sean Priester offers a few of his Soul restaurant specialties, clockwise from the bowl of Shrimp and Cheesy Grits in his hands: Jambalaya, Sweet Potato Chips, BBQ Spare Rib Southern Sampler and Chef Sean's Buttermilk Fried Chicken and Southern Spiced Sweet Potato Pancakes.

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I think a lot of people were surprised when Sean Priester left his long-standing, lofty perch at The Top of Waikiki to roll out his lunchwagon Soul Patrol.

There was more to it than Southern soul food; Soul Patrol started as a mission to help nurture and feed hungry and homeless souls in Waianae a few days a week, and soon afterward, took on a life of its own.

Once lunch crowds got a taste of his honey-topped cornbread, fried chicken and jambalaya, there came requests for him to put down some permanent roots, and the lunchwagon proved to be just a pit stop en route to finding a home at the base of Waialae and St. Louis Heights.

These days, the Soul Patrol truck still makes the occasional guest appearance at community events (for locations, follow @pacificsoul on Twitter.com), but with two babies on his hands, Soul restaurant, and a newborn daughter, Priester has a lot to juggle.

Even so, those who see him at the restaurant will find him to be ever warm and gracious, and ready to talk about food.

The restaurant occupies humble quarters, with a couple of tables outside if you don't mind next-door shave-ice seekers hovering over you. Don't get too comfy when you're seated because you'll have to stand up again when placing your order at the outdoor counter. It will take time to make your decision, though. How do you choose from such soulful favorites as buttermilk-fried chicken and chili ($12) and crabcake po' boys ($14)?

That's not to say it's strictly Louisiana style, which has its limitations. Priester has been in the islands too long for that, and injects his recipes with what he calls "aloha and spice." So, you may find a dice of daikon in his Sassy Southern Vegetarian Chili ($12), probably unlike any other chili you've had, made with black-eyed peas and only a modicum of spice. (It's good for vegetarians, but typical chili fans might look elsewhere.) Or, order the gumbo, accented with sweet potato and slices of spicy Kukui Portuguese sausage ($14).

Ordering jambalaya always gives me pause. The name is more exotic than what the rice dish delivers, even when in New Orleans. I typically end up disappointed. Not here, however. Soul's flavorful jambalaya ($20), or Creole paella, is generous with its layer of shrimp atop rice shot through with tomatoes, onions, bell peppers and seasonings, plus chunks of chicken and sausage.

This turned out to be my favorite dish ... on this particular day, anyway. On another day, it might be Priester's fried chicken, plain and simple, served with buttermilk cilantro cole slaw, cornbread and Ma'o Farms collard greens.

Oh, wait. Then there's the irresistible combination of mac-and-feta cheese with cornbread au gratin ($7/$11 with crab meat), piled so high it was oozing over the side of the dish. For all the cheese flavor, the crab presence is negligible in the upgrade version, so I'd stick with the plain if you need to save money. If not, go for it.

No doubt Priester will be adding more local-inspired specials with time. For starters, in addition to crabcake and catfish po' boys, you can also get a kalbi-braised short-rib po' boy with creamy kim chee ($16), heavy on sweet-soy sauce flavor and studded with sesame seeds. Wrangling the sandwiches can get messy, so make sure you're prepared with plenty of napkins.

One of the best days to drop in is Sunday, when it's a little slower in the evening, and you can take advantage of an all-day Sunday brunch menu. That means additional options such as Crab Cake Benedict with seasonal Kaimuki mango hollandaise ($14), chorizo scrambled eggs with the Sassy Southern Vegetarian Chili sauce ($12), or Southern-spiced sweet potato pancakes with bananas and maple butter ($8), which is something I'll have to try next.

You're welcome to bring your own bottles, and if not, there's Southern sweet iced tea ($2), which is not quite as sweet as that served Panhandle-Arkansas way, where one of my exes is from.

I was asked if I wanted dessert, but the tea already fit the bill, and besides, I told our server, I just needed to polish off the cornbread that comes with most plates. Sure enough, when I looked at the menu, there was cornbread as a dessert special as well, this time topped with butter pecan-mac nut ice cream ($7).

The experience was good for my soul, and multiplied over hundreds of diners weekly, that's got to be good for Priester's spirit as well.

Big Isle beef key to Honolulu Burger Co.

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Burger lovers have been flocking to Honolulu Burger Co. for 100 percent Big Island grass-fed beef burgers, milkshakes and garlic, truffle and sweet potato fries since opening day last Thursday. It's located at 1295 S. Beretania St

By Nadine Kam 

POSTED: 01:30 a.m. HST, Aug 18, 2010

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CINDY ELLEN RUSSELL / CRUSSELL@STARADVERTISER.COM

Honolulu Burger Co. owner Ken Takahashi offers his Loco Moco Burger, Blue Hawaii Burger and french fries.

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By the time I stopped into Honolulu Burger Co. a few days after its opening, another food writer about town was on her second visit and, being mostly on the same page about food, I found she'd come to the same conclusion as me, proclaiming a "New No. 1" burger in town.

Those are gonna be fightin' words for many.

That was on first impression. On second, I came away thinking it could be the best burger in town, with a little more consistency. You see, I always hedge if I think some curmudgeon is going to have a vastly different experience, as I did on my first and second visits.

It's a matter of trust. There are some restaurateurs I will go out on a limb for because I trust them. Even if the diner doesn't ultimately agree with me, I don't worry about it as long as I believe a particular restaurateur will do his/her best to get everything right.

I do have faith in owner Ken Takahashi. It's his young staff I worry about. If Takahashi is in the kitchen you'll get a perfect, moist, flavorful, medium-cooked, third-pound burger with no fillers. If not, the same burger will be compact, tough and dry, indistinguishable from any other frozen patty in town.

That's a shame, because Takahashi is certainly starting at the right place. He's created the first burger joint in Honolulu devoted to serving 100 percent Big Island free-range, hormone-free, grass-fed beef burgers. Other offerings may not be 100 percent local -- "We mix it up on the sandwiches," he said -- but the burgers are a guarantee. A dash of salt is all that's needed to showcase the superlative beef.

He's not sure if supply will be able to keep up with demand, but said: "If I have to close for a day, so be it. I am not going to run out to the store."

Ditto with the potato fries, hand cut every morning, served plain ($1.99/$2.99), with garlic ($3.99), truffled ($4.99) or with blue cheese ($4.49). He refuses to serve the frozen variety.

Takahashi grew up in Hilo, eating Big Isle beef and taking it for granted. Nobody gave much thought to whether it was grass- or grain-fed or hormone free. The more people have learned about what goes into factory-raised animals, the more diners are welcoming alternatives.

Of course, the cost associated with smaller production is higher, so the beef has more typically been available in mid-tier to upscale restaurants, out of reach of those who just want to enjoy a simple burger when they go out.

Takahashi's making up for lost time with a spate of classic burgers and cheeseburgers, a roster of seven HBC favorites, and build-your-own options.

The basic single burger is $6.79, going up to Triple XXXL at $10.79 for a triple-patty construction. Classic cheeseburgers run $7.79 for a single patty to $11.79 for the triple. Cheese options are cheddar, gorgonzola, provolone, gruyere, pepper jack, Swiss and mozzarella.

First-timers might want to start with the classics, for the burger at the most stripped down form, served with lettuce, tomato, sauteed onions and a housemade ketchup-garlic-chipotle aioli. After that you can venture into a Mushroom-Mushroom Burger ($8.95), which doesn't have as many mushrooms as the name implies; Blue Hawaiian Burger with bacon and gorgonzola, a Loco Moco Burger ($8.79), and an ultimate Hilo version, topped with bacon, Spam and over-hard egg.

Takahashi is big on multimeat combos, including topping another burger with kalua pork ($8.49) and building sandwiches such as the "Hot Rod" Chicago Style ($8.29) with two Portuguese-style hot dogs from Hilo, or "The Bull" ($9.29) comprising top sirloin, corned beef and pastrami in strips, not a big stack as some might expect.

The best of the sandwiches is the meaty, cheese-oozing Philly ($7.29). Otherwise, it's clear the burgers are the stars of this operation, paired with the hand-cut fries and an old-fashioned vanilla, chocolate, strawberry or malt shake ($2.79 to $2.99).

As for the french fries, I'm recommending the garlic version. I tried to get the truffle version, which was devoid of truffles or truffle oil. Again, the kids were in the kitchen and I know they didn't forget, so either they don't know how to use it or were trying to cut corners.

Other nice Big Island touches are Atebara chips and the kind of small-town hospitality that had Takahashi distributing goodie bags full of snacks to customers on opening days.

And his aim is to source local products wherever possible, including use of Patisserie breads, alaea salt from Kauai, and produce from isle farms. "The whole thing is we work together locally to help each other," said Takahashi, whose motto is "Grown, bred, fed local."

Sightless dining challenges tastebuds at Formaggio Grill

Formaggio Grill in Kailua offers blindfolded meals that force daring foodies to focus on flavors and textures

By Nadine Kam 

POSTED: 01:30 a.m. HST, Aug 11, 2010

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CINDY ELLEN RUSSELL / CRUSSELL@STARADVERTISER.COM

Shanae Kamakawiwoole, above, prepares to take the blind wine-tasting challenge at Formaggio Grill in Kailua.

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It's said that if you lose one sense, other senses make up for it. That turned out to be true at Formaggio Grill in ways expected and unexpected.

The restaurant has been testing a fun monthly series called Dining in the Dark, which has proved to be a hit with culinary adventurers willing to put their tastebuds to the test by eating dinner blindfolded for a very sensual, multisensory experience.

Dining in the Dark at Formaggio Grill » Where: 305 Hahani St. » When: 7 p.m. first Monday monthly; next meal on Sept. 6 » Cost: $75 per person, with wine; menu varies » Call: 263-2633 » Also: Groups of eight or more can be accommodated on weekdays, provided the private room is not booked.

That does not suggest it's romantic in any way. Instead, the dining room is more like a laboratory and you're a blind scientist poking and prodding at your plate to figure out what substance is in front of you, whether animal, vegetable or mineral.

The concept started not as a commercial gimmick, but as a social awareness movement in Europe about five years ago to benefit agencies serving the visually impaired. People were served by blind waiters in complete darkness to experience what it's like to be without sight.

Once it crossed the pond, it became another form of entertainment. A whole organization has sprung up around Dark Dining Projects (darkdiningprojects.com), with related dance and artistic projects based on nonvisual perception.

Of course, the competitive nature of our society has also turned dining in the dark into a challenge to see just who really knows their foodstuffs.

I thought that guessing the ingredients would be a breeze, but Formaggio Grill owner Wes Zane said people get basics wrong all the time. After erring himself, he said the experience made him realize how, with his busy schedule, he's forced to eat quickly, without really focusing on what he's eating. He said it's made him realize how important it is to slow down and savor meals.

I thought we'd at least be able to set our sights on the surroundings, but instead, we were blindfolded in the main dining room and led by hand into a back room. (For sanitary reasons, your blindfold goes home with you.)

The walk and being seated is the scariest part of the experience as you feel your way around table and chair to avoid plopping your butt on the ground. Next, we felt our way around the tabletop, so as not to knock over wine glasses set there for tastings that accompanied each dish.

Staffers promise nothing "scary" on the menu, but scary is relative. That's why this kind of meal tends to attract brave diners. I usually don't get turned down for dinner dates, but on this one I learned how much people value their sense of sight and knowing exactly what they're eating.

What was strange was that other diners, because they couldn't see, seemed to think others around them were deaf, so they were yelling across the table to each other. Everyone had to increase their decibel levels accordingly to be heard, so by evening's end the conversations were deafening. Without blindfolds and the excitement connected with guessing what is on their plates, people tend to converse more sedately.

No one is told what is going to be on the menu during a particular event, but while taking reservations, staffers note allergies and dietary restrictions to make substitutions where needed. They also make sure everything on the plates is edible, avoiding such hazards as fish with bones.

Then, at the end of the meal, the blindfolds are whipped off for the big reveal of the room, the other diners and plates showcasing the meal just eaten. I don't know if the restaurant purposely tries to trip people up, or if any meal would be challenging when blindfolded. I suspect a little of both. In figuring out the various dishes, it helps to think beyond your traditional concept of what a dinner entails.

For instance, the first bite was an amuse bouche that I correctly identified as a chocolate truffle with Pop Rocks, which ordinarily might have served as a delightful mignardise, or bite-sized dessert, at the end of the meal. Tricky!

Waiters did their best to guide us in approaching the various dishes. For this dish, for instance, they announced a small bite at the center of the plate, indicating we could pick it up with our fingers. The first approaches were difficult. You have to determine whether you do want to touch, at the risk of gravied or sauced fingertips, or whether to properly apply fork and knife, or to go caveman and stab it.

I usually poked around a while to get a sense of texture and size, and how easy or difficult it might be to cut.

THE NEXT DISH was also tricky. The first bite tasted strongly of pork, but the texture was wrong. It was squishy, not meaty. That got me thinking it was rare-seared fish, but then there was the undeniable pork flavor. Then I figured it was fish wrapped in some kind of pork strip that might have been bacon, but with more of a ham flavor, and I settled on prosciutto. It was served on some kind of puree that I stubbornly decided was garlic-truffle mashed potatoes, although, given its more watery nature, it turned out I should have reflected on this a bit more.

The dish turned out to be prosciutto-wrapped ahi with a celery root puree and truffle nage.

Next up was another stumper, some kind of chewy bread. "Why?" I thought. There were also blueberries and sliced strawberries, which started me thinking about breakfast and French toast. On top of it was unmistakably foie gras. Some people couldn't figure this dish out because they'd never had goose liver before, and certainly not on French toast. Luckily, they liked it, because it's not for everyone, whether for dietary or ethical reasons.

It's funny how small the piece of foie gras was, at about 2 inches, when I got a chance to look at it after the meal was over. As rich as it is, while I was eating it, it felt palm-sized.

The next dish was obviously braised shortribs on mushroom risotto, but what tripped me up was something like a succotash of tiny diced veggies sitting on top of the shortribs. Some pieces were very crunchy and some were squishy, so I guessed broccoli stems and corn. These turned out to be carrots and asparagus. I was surprised I didn't get the carrot flavor because I really dislike the sweetness of cooked carrots. Maybe I missed it because I always avoid eating them.

A friend later asked me how I could miss the distinctive asparagus flavor. I'm thinking that cut as small as it was, and stirred with the carrots, it didn't have the pungency you'd experience with the whole stalk. Anyway, she's one to talk. She was one of those who turned down the opportunity to test herself.

Dessert was obviously a creme brulee, but I was not successful with the specifics. It was creamy on top and combined with the flavor of the brulee, I was thinking it was coconut cream, but it turned out to be a pistachio brulee topped with whipped cream.

Here, I'm thinking artificial notes in the pistachio tasted like coconut, in the way that artificial flavors rarely come close to the real thing. But, once the blindfolds came off and I was told it was pistachio and could see the pale green color and taste it, pistachio was obvious. That seems to demonstrate how much we rely on multiple clues in our everyday lives to shape our perceptions.

Dining in the Dark turned out to be quite an eye-opening experience.