Food Quest, Day 4

So our Food Quest has hit a big of a snag.  First of all, our momentum was interrupted because of my week-long jaunt to Anaheim at the end of June.  Second of all, I am finding that my sons are less interested in the "quest" part of the journey than they are in the "food" part; I had thought that part of the fun would be doing a little internet research on places that we would be interested in trying.  I thought.  T and C seem to feel otherwise.  Neither of them have been motivated enough to do a little 'net surfing to find new and exciting places to eat.  They just want to eat. Which makes it pretty much Mom's choice all the time.  Fine.

Two Thursdays ago we went to Choi's Garden (on Rycroft, behind Wal-Mart).  I had gone there previously and the biggest draw is definitely their yakiniku menu; portion sizes are generous and there is a vast selection of different meats and vegetables.  Since neither of the two boys felt like cooking their own meal when we went to Choi's, we ordered off their regular menu (it's huge!).

The accompanying veggies were delicious and somewhat unusual; besides the kim chee, there were also bean sprouts, konnyaku, tofu, and ong choi.  We each got a bowl of soup with wakame.

I ordered a stone pot with beef and mixed vegetables. T had something similar except his was with seafood.  I believe C had a mixed BBQ plate of some sort--sorry, it's been 2 weeks and I just can't recall without a photo!

T's hot pot had a nice variety of seafood--scallops, shrimp, fish and a whole baby octopus!  I thought his meal choice was tempting except for one thing; there was a large quantity of raw watercress over the top.  Watercress is evil.  But I digress.

The food is very good but somewhat pricey; plates average about $15 which is nearly twice as much as I have paid for very similar food elsewhere.  I was more willing to pay a higher amount for their yakiniku selections; those at least, were "different" from what I encountered at other korean grills.  Though service at Choi's is prompt and efficient, I have to say that in several Korean restaurants that I have frequented, I always get significantly better service when E and/or the boys are along with me.  I hate to say it but the part-Korean blood really does come in handy here--in this particular instance, more than once, I noticed one of the waiters and one of the waitresses studying the faces at our table.  When we were part-way through the meal, the waiter came up and asked if we wanted more veggies.  A few minutes later, the waitress asked the same thing.  The degree of warmth just gets a little more so at these places.  I guess I shouldn't complain!

Choi's does get pretty busy for both lunch and dinner so reservations are recommended.  The parking lot is small but they do have a valet who will take care of your vehicle when the lot fills up.  They are a bit pricey but there is a huge variety of dishes and their yakiniku is definitely worth a try, at least once.  Let me know if you want to borrow either of the boys--you just may get more veggies that way! ;-)

Food Quest, Day 3

Today was my choice.  I selected Hinone Mizunone on S. King Street near Keeaumoku.  I have passed this restaurant on a number of occasions and decided it was time to give it a try.  The boys and I got there around 11:30 AM (the place opens at 11) and the parking lot, which is pretty small, was already filled to capacity.  We were fortunate to find a metered parking stall nearby. 

The restaurant is a lot smaller than I had imagined it to be and there were at least 6 parties ahead of us crammed into a small side room.  We were assured that a table for 3 would be ready in about 20 minutes.  We decided to wait (outside) and in about 15 minutes we were seated.  During our wait, people kept coming, but they were also going--though this is a sit-down restaurant, the impression was one of fast food; the customer turnover was extremely rapid.

We were seated by 12:00 and there was already a sign that announced the daily special (teriyaki chicken for $8.50) was sold out.  Wow.  The menu was not as extensive as I had anticipated but it did feature some classic teishoku plates:  tonkatsu, chicken karaage, misoyaki butterfish, grilled salmon and so forth.  There were several udon/curry combinations as well.  Our waiter was efficient but his brisk, businesslike attitude unintentionally (I am assuming) indicated that building a warm and fuzzy server-diner relationship was pretty low on his list of priorities.

C ordered the tonkatsu teishoku with ponzu, I ordered the misoyaki butterfish teishoku and T ordered the shrimp tempura udon and curry combo.  The prices are reasonable; teishoku meals average $10-14 and T's combo was about $15.  T also ordered a green apple soda which he really enjoyed.

The teishoku plates were attractively plated and came with an individual rice container, miso soup, gobo, takuan and kabocha.  My meal came significantly ahead of the boys' though.  I thought that was a bit strange.  The miso soup was very tasty and full of small cubes of tofu and bean sprouts.  C enjoyed the flavors of the tonkatsu and ponzu and said he preferred it to the traditional tomato-based katsu sauce so many other places serve.  He also liked the kabocha a great deal; I thought it was good but a tad on the sweet side.  The butterfish was moist and delicious and T's udon filled him up so much that he couldn't finish the curry.  He enjoyed them both though.

I didn't take pictures of the boys' meals because C gave me one of his Mom-is-embarrassing-me looks when I snapped the photo of my teishoku and T's green apple soda.

So overall:  on the plus side the food is very good and the prices are reasonable; service is efficient and brisk.  On the down side:  parking sucks--the lot is small and the street parking during the weekday is only 1 hour; this means I had to drop another quarter in midway through the meal (we had that 15 minute wait at the beginning, remember?); daily specials sell out extremely quickly (judging by today anyway); the noise level is very high since the restaurant is pretty much one large square with lots of wooden surfaces and the high speed service does not make this a place you would feel encouraged to linger and chat in (we were out in under an hour).  Since the chatting is a big part of the dining experience, at least for me, I felt slightly cheated somehow.

Food Quest, Day 2

It was T's turn to choose and he opted for Panya Bistro and Bakery in Ala Moana Center.  Panya is an Asian/Italian/American fusion restaurant that features a rather expansive menu of appetizers, salads, noodles, sandwiches and drinks.  Their bakery is set-up in the front of the restaurant so the variety of breads and sweet treats are a temptation going in and coming out; bakery items can be served at table with a modest serving fee.

T ordered the fried baby octopus appetizer and when they say "baby octopus" they mean baby octopus; tiny tentacles curled and crisped are still attached to the head.  C declined--whether it's because he was saving himself for his lunch or because T's comment that he could, "see where the eye used to be" grossed him out too much, I could not fathom.  The little darlings were quite tasty (though chewy) and the mixture of mayo and shoyu that accompanied them, though not my dip of choice, went over well.

The boys opted for ramen--C had miso and T had the gomoku which had a shoyu base.  Both bowls had a generous serving of noodles, flavorful broth and an abundance of toppings that included aburage, shiitake mushrooms, kamaboko and bean sprouts.  C said the miso had a bit of a kick to it and he enjoyed the broth so much that he finished it off completely.  T enjoyed his as well but filled up rather quickly; must be from all the tentacles tangoing in his tummy.

I had the baked pork chop which was basically rice fried with egg then topped with thin slices of onion, peas and bread pork chop slices all swimming in a tomato sauce.  Think smothered tonkatsu and you'll get the picture.  Though the pork was tender (and boneless, which is a plus), I found the rice rather ordinary and the tomato sauce was too sweet for my taste. 

The appetizers are priced in the $8-10 range and the meals average $10-18 or so for good-sized portions and lots of variety.  Our waitress was friendly and efficient but the bakery workers at the door, who also doubled as hosts, left much to be desired.  The initial greeting was cursory and we were waved in the general direction of our table where our waitress greeted us and seated us. When we paid for our bakery items on the way out, the man who rang up our purchases was talking on the phone while also talking to the girl who was wrapping up our treats--in Korean.  She did say thank you when she gave me my change.

Overall rating--good food, reasonable prices and good table service.  I hope they work on the other stuff.

The Great Food Quest!

So the boys and I decided to spend at least part of our summer on a quest for food.  It's a noble endeavor, this seeking of restaurants we have not yet discovered and one we are willing to take on.  For the greater, uh, good.  The only requirements we have established thus far:  we take turns picking places and we try to pick places we either rarely frequent or have never frequented before.  Ever.

Today was C's pick and he opted for Greek cuisine.  We headed over to The Greek Marina located in the Koko Marina Shopping Center.  The Greek Marina is a small-ish place that features both inside and outside dining.  The patio option allows diners a very up-close view of the marina along with its ducky inhabitants.  Though the ducks have been known to wander up to the walkway to scrutinize diners, they were well-behaved and kept to the water today.

We started with appetizers of tzatziki (yogurt mixed with dill and shredded cucumber, served with pita bread) and spanakopita (filo turnovers stuffed with feta and spinach).  The combination of yogurt and cucumber is spectacular and even C who does not really care for cucumber, thoroughly enjoyed the tzatziki. T, who has never eaten Greek food before, seemed to really like the spanakopita and was even able to get the pronunciation down--unlike his older brother who couldn't get the pronunciation down before and now finds it amusing to say "spankatopia" instead. 

We all opted for the gyro as our main course.  The one time C and I went there before, the gyro were solo sandwiches.  This time, we each got a full plate.  Triangles of pita are served alongside a generous portion of thinly sliced lamb and beef. The meat was lightly crisped along the edges and well-seasoned; the additional yogurt dip that came along with it complemented the meat nicely.  A Greek salad of sliced Romaine lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, red onion, sprinkles of feta and kalamata olives was included as well.  The salad dressing had a pleasant zing and the only item that was not enjoyed by any of us were the olives; T and I aren't big on olives in general and C found it far too briney for his tastes.

The appetizers averaged $8-10 and the gyro plates were about $12.  The portions are generous, the service friendly and prompt. The Greek Marina at Koko Marina Shopping Center.  We highly recommend it.

Go fo' broke!

The families in my old Rose Street neighborhood were tight; we shared food over fences, babysat younger siblings and if any of us acted up, parents impartially yelled at the lot of us.  I never realized until much later how lucky I was to have grown up in a neighborhood with so many families with children near my own age. 

I recently attended the funeral of Mr. H., a former neighbor of many years and the father of my friend R (see "Turkey Tales," November 2010). Mr. H. was "old school"; that means he didn't always talk much but when he did it was because he had something to say and it was in your best interests to listen.  Like my grandfather, Mr. H. was gruff and did not waste time with social niceties--if he wanted something done, he said so, using as few words as possible.  He was not a big man but he had incredible presence.  I never thought to question him when he told me to do something and it never would have occurred to me to protest that I wasn't his child to order around.  Yet he was always kind to me and paid me the ultimate compliment of entrusting me with his daughter; R. is three years younger than me and if we were catching the bus to go to the beach or the movies, she could go--provided Mr. H. knew that I was going, too. 

Mr. H. took us fishing, swimming and hiking.  We helped him harvest vegetables at his relatives' farm in Kaaawa and he set up a tent in the backyard for us to spend the night in; in the back of his blue pick-up we explored corners of the island I would never have seen otherwise.  Mr. H. taught us to respect the sea and the legends of Hawaii.  I was impressed that he never failed to make an offering to the volcano goddess, Pele, whenever he visited the Big Island and if our travels included a picnic lunch, a small food offering was always placed by the side of the road.  "For the little people," he would say.

Many of my cherished childhood memories revolve around R. and her father but with all the time I spent in their company, there is one thing I never knew about Mr. H. until his funeral service; he was a member of the 442nd Regiment, the all-Japanese American regiment that fought in some of the toughest battles in WW II and became the most decorated regiment in the history of the United States.  As a history teacher, I lamented the passing of yet another first-hand witness to one of the most important events in the world's history.  As his longtime neighbor, I was saddened by the not-knowing.  How could I have spent so much time with them, at their house, and not have known of Mr. H.'s involvement with the 442nd?

At the funeral, copies of a speech made by US Army Historian Eric Saul were distributed.  The speech was given at a ceremony to honor Medal of Honor recipients on March 25, 2001.  In his beautiful presentation, Saul attributes the success of the 442nd and their willingness to "go fo' broke," despite the prejudices and mistreatment by their own government, to several very Japanese qualities; qualities like "giri" and "on" (duty, honor and responsibility), "kodomo no tame ni" (for the sake of the children), "gaman" (internal fortitude), or "shikata ga nai" (sometimes things can't be helped).

But the one characteristic that hit home for me was "enryo" or humility. Saul wrote:  "There's an old Japanese proverb that says if you do something really good and you don't talk about it, it must be really, really good!"  Mr. H., like my grand-uncle Dick who was also a member of the 442nd, never talked about their service during WW II; they didn't have to.  They went and did really, really good.  And that was all the rest of us needed to know.

Different Governor, Same Shit

2011 HOSA Winners

Twenty members of our school's chapter of Health Occupations Students of America (HOSA) qualified to compete on the national level at this year's state conference.  For the past 4 years, our travel expenses were supplemented by a combination of fundraising monies, donations (especially from our school's alumni association, FACF) and state funds.  This year was to be no exception.  FACF came through with our request of $8400 and after careful consideration of the state funds that were slated for us, we asked each student to chip in their share of $350. 

On Wednesday morning, my co-advisor delivered a check to the travel agent which represented the balance of our airfare and on Wednesday afternoon I received an email notifying all HOSA advisors that Governor Abercrombie had ordered our state superintendent to reject any out of state travel plans that utilized state funds.  The $10,000 that had been put aside for our travel, half of it from the beginning of this school year, and that we had utilized when making our requests from the alumni and parents, not only could not be used for our travel, it was to be returned to the state immediately.

We are scheduled to leave on June 19th.  Our airfare payment is no longer refundable.  To take away these funds with no warning and after the date for fundraisers has passed is not right and not fair.  My students earned the right to compete on the national level, the money had been earmarked for their travel, all our budgeting was based around that fund and now it's gone.  Families in our community often live paycheck to paycheck and even the $350 that we asked them to contribute took some financial finagling for a number of them.  To ask them to contribute more this late in the game...it's just not possible.

Time and time again, the public school students of this state are given the short end of the state's financial stick by politicians who are elected by promising that schools will come first and it's time to clean up education. The only thing that needs to be cleaned up is the Governor's mansion.  The b.s. accumulating there is now three-governors high.

Remembering Kirby

It is 2 years to the day since our beloved Shih Tzu, Kirby, crossed the Rainbow Bridge.  Kirby was my very first dog and in many ways he spoiled me for any other.  I never trained Kirby; he trained me.  And what an excellent job he did, too!

We decided to train Kirby to "go" on puppy pads.  Our yard at the time was an overgrown, weedy mess; the one time I let him out to roam, he came back covered in burrs and stickers--to the point where his fur was plastered against the sides of his face and body.  Since the children were young at the time, I also thought it would be easier to supervise his toilet training if he was in the house.  All I had to do was show Kirby the pads and correct his few mistakes.  He was trained in a week.  I was amazed to learn that Shih Tzu are supposed to be notoriously difficult to potty train.  Apparently Kirby never got that memo.

The only commands I made it a point to teach him were:  sit, stay, come, down and off.  Everything else he picked up simply because we talked to him all the time.  He quickly learned that "where" meant he needed to find something and "do you want" indicated something good to follow (a walk, some milk, a treat, a brushing).  Not only did he have excellent receptive language, he was also an incredible communicator.  His vocalizations went far beyond the normal whines and barks; he yodeled and moaned, sighed (often in seeming exasperation), chuffed and for lack of a better description, "yarled."

Yarling is a series of undulating notes that Kirby emitted when he was especially anxious to communicate with us.  A low, throaty yarl was used to get my attention and let me know something was wrong; when he was still quite a small puppy, I forgot to put out clean puppy pads for him.  He sat in front of me, stared intently and gave his muffled "mmm--arl."  Once he got my attention, he leapt to his feet, ran to his corner and stared pointedly at the empty space.  He danced with glee when I put the pad in place.

His louder, open-mouthed yarl indicated that something was really wrong.  Not long after we got Farley, I let the dogs out into the yard.  I did not know that E had left the side gate open.  Kirby immediately ran around the house to the front door and yarled at me.  He looked agitated and when I asked, "Where's Rusty, Kirby?"  He yarled long and loud and rushed to the front fence.  There, across the street, were Rusty and Farley.  They had escaped via the open gate and were setting off to explore the neighborhood.  I was amazed that Kirby not only did not join them, he came around to let us know that his "brothers" were loose in the street.

Though Kirby was flexible enough to allow me to sleep in on the weekends, he did let me know when he thought I'd been indulged enough.  He would march determinedly up alongside me and stare hard at my face.  If his laser eye trick did not work, he chuffed; a mixture of a sneeze and a snort.  The chuffing sound and light spray of moisture was usually enough to wake me out of the deepest sleep.  And once I opened my eyes, there was no turning back.  I was awake and breakfast needed to be served!

I did try to trick him a couple of times.  Once when he did his march up toward my face, I kept my eyes closed.  I was awake under my eyelids so even his usual chuff did not elicit the desired reaction.  I peered out carefully and when I noticed his face was averted, I blew at the side of his face.  His head whipped around to face me but my eyes were closed; obviously, I was still asleep.  Three more times I blew at him and three more times he whirled in my direction.  That final time, when I craftily peeped out to see if he was looking, he was.  Quick as a flash he smacked his front paw against my mouth and when my eyes popped wide open in surprise, he leaped off the bed and headed for the kitchen!  Objective reached; stupid human was awake and now it was time for breakfast!

Kirby became hypothyroid when he was four and by the time he was seven, he had developed a heart murmur.  For five years, life pretty much went on as normal; he continued to enjoy his usual activities and meals and daily walks with Rusty.  By the time he was 10 and Farley had joined our little family, it was clear that Kirby's heart was beginning to decline. His walking pace was so slow that I had to walk him separately from the younger dogs.  He had occasional brief but terrifying black-outs.  By March of 2009, he could no longer climb the stairs to the second floor without gasping; I slept on an inflatable mattress on the first floor from then on.

Our vet warned told us Kirby's heart was the worst it could possibly be and other than the medications which made him more comfortable, there was nothing further we could do.  Though it was devastating to think of Kirby's passing, it was nightmarish to think about the manner in which he might go.  Heart disease is horrifying in its unpredictability.  We might come home to find that he had died peacefully during a nap or we might come home to find him in agony and pray that it hadn't been for very long.

We knew that the time would soon come when putting Kirby to sleep would be the only and best option for our little friend.  But how do you know when?  In between his blackouts, he acted normally; he ate well, showed interest in his toys and people.  He was just slower and tired so easily.  At what point would we say, could we say, "That's it, he's had enough" and KNOW that it was the right thing for him? Everyone I asked told me the same thing.  You know.  You just do. 

I should have known that Kirby would tell me himself.  On that fateful morning, Kirby refused his breakfast.  He sat in front of me and stared long and hard into my face and that was it.  I had received his final lesson and all that remained was for me to carry it out.

Kirby crossed the Rainbow Bridge on May 4, 2009.  It was his 12th birthday.