For some foolhardy reason I had my heart set on eating my birthday dinner in Chinatown, knowing full well that any dining option would not measure up to the one place I really want to try – Chef Mavro – and that we would be left with little time to enjoy the First Friday festivities.
Still, I plunged ahead, misgivings be damned, and settled on a gauche-looking place up the street from Indigo called Epic.
Epic. That’s one helluva name to live up to. It conjures up anticipation of something on par with the Moulin Rouge. And, in fact, the decor is not too far off in delivering.
But it all falls apart at the table. The wine was good, but the salad and appetizers were not put together with much care. The rack of lamb I had for my entree was a little skimpy, but juiced with a caramelized sweet glaze. Unfortunately the gnocchi and asparagus were an afterthought – bland, overcooked, and tossed in a bowl on the side of the plate. The chocolate decadence cake, a little too decadent for me – just too rich and dense, an issue I rarely have when it comes to chocolate cake.
The verdict: skip the meal and pop in for drinks and a quick blast of extreme ambience.
Just after Thanksgiving I had the rare opportunity to see a band I actually care about. Rare because as I may have mentioned in previous posts the only bands that seem to make stops on the islands are those with boomer appeal. That band was the ever masterful Bela Fleck and the Flecktones.
So stoked was I when I heard they were coming I ran out and bought tickets a couple months in advance. The first thing I noticed, standing in the sweltering sun in front of the ticket seller window, was the price seemed a bit exorbitant. Hmm. Then there was the fact that the best available seats (seats, another eyebrow-raiser) were already twenty-plus rows back. Double hmm.
And then, a few weeks later, I saw the new ads: Flecktones Play Christmas Songs with the Honolulu Symphony. Holy crimony, I’ve been had!
I hate to say it, but I’m starting to get the feeling they just don’t know how to do things “right” here in the land of too much sunshine. Okay, the fact was the Flecktones were touring in support of a Christmas album. But that does not give the ailing Honolulu Symphony the right to hijack their show in a transparent attempt to boost ticket sales. There are some things you just don’t do in the name of a cheap dollar (and I would know!), but some people have no shame.
This is not to say the Flecktones do not belong on stage with a symphony orchestra. I could see a talented, fully prepared pit adding real depth to their sound. But this pairing was like having Don Ho sit in with Sigur Ros.
In reality it played out even worse. The Symphony had the chutzpah to introduce the Flecks as their special guests and regale us with an introductory medley of Christmas tunes that sounded like they had been arranged in the 70s. The Tones were allowed a few moments unhindered by the banal droning of the strings, and when they were, the contrast was painfully obvious – at least to my biased ears. The absolutely insane take on the 12 Days of Christmas – played in 12 different keys and time signatures – was simply jaw-dropping.
Only for the encore did we get treated to the Flecktones on stage alone, for the first time, a glimpse at what might have been. A touching solo performance by Bela followed by a rousing Throwdown at the Hoedown – my favorite tune of all – made the evening almost worthwhile.
Message to Blaisdell: next time put them in the Shell where they belong!
He had to endure monsoon-like weather, a sick dad and a barbecue that almost didn’t cook anything. In spite of it all, the party went on for the big two-year old on the first of December.
Filed under: Events, Family, Random | Tags: mythology, pilgrim, thanksgiving
My only excuse for posting on Thanksgiving in the middle of December is that I suck at this blog thing – the requirements of real-time posting are just too much for me to handle. Also, I was sick for the week following (unrelated to the food, I think).
We were fortunate to have my parents in town, which made for a real homestyle celebration, and the addition of a second oven to the mix made the prep time more bearable. I never really rated Thanksgiving very highly in my personal holiday rankings, what with the dubious Pilgrim mythology and all, but there is something to be said for making time to eat a good meal with family – a rare commodity in our time.
As we sat down to eat, went around the table and had everyone state what they were thankful for. It was an exercise that deserved a second round and a little deeper thought than we gave it. Most of what came out of it were platitudes such as “thankful to have a job in a weakening economy” and “thankful to have the whole family together”. Maybe these had some currency too, but it would have been nice to go a bit further and consider what we are really thankful for. It’s connecting with our holidays on a more personal level that rescues them from becoming pointless drivel in the minds of our cultural critics.
Founded by the Finnish former head chef at the Hawaii Prince Hotel, Tango easily offers the most refined dining I have yet enjoyed in the Kaka’ako area. An out of town visitor occasioned the unveiling of this gem in the neighborhood where I work (apparently I didn’t rate an invite on my own – yes, I am bitter). The airy and somewhat whimsical decor of the place would not be out of place in Tokyo, with its affinity for all design Scandanavian, which immediately imparts the sensation of having arrived at a unique destination. I tried the Hamakua mushroom risotto with asparagus, a well-balanced, creamy affair that we chased with a couple of delectable dessert items, and an espresso that really jolted me out of usual early afternoon (or should I say early mid-life) funk.
