Critic's world is never dull

By Helen Wu
Advertiser Restaurant Critic

Many of my classmates in cooking school desired to be the next Alan, Roy or Emeril. I knew my own limitations too well. I was intimidated by the idea of slogging it out on the kitchen line day after day in a harsh environment. Shelling raw chestnuts for a couple of hours during a brief Christmas restaurant internship at the Lodge at Koele did not convince me otherwise. For me, this job of getting paid to eat and express an opinion compares to winning the Powerball lottery.

As with most things that seem easy, being a restaurant critic is in reality much harder than I thought. Antacids are my constant companions. I must eat at times when it is farthest from my mind and stomach. I get to test overzealous concoctions created by someone who thinks of himself as an "artiste." And no matter how good the food is, eating multiple dishes in succession can be a little overwhelming, especially when that fourth plate arrives.

Then there is the symbiotic relationship between critics and readers. Positive feedback helps keep me on track. Lyle Cabacungan, a Roy's Ko Olina employee, e-mailed to say he appreciated a critical review which he felt was a challenge to "making Roy's an enjoyable experience worthy of the price."

Readers' suggestions reciprocate what I attempt to do, encouraging me to try new places and new dishes. I could immediately sense reader Walter Mahr's excitement when he shared his enthusiasm for Bac Nam Vietnamese restaurant in an e-mail. It became one of my favorites, too. And heartfelt thanks from owners are always a surprise, since I only point out what they normally do exceptionally well.

Negative responses are unavoidable, but I don't mind them. They make me think twice and ask myself if I communicated what I meant to say. Ruffled chefs will continue to bemoan my visits. The disgruntled don't ever hesitate to express displeasure when they think I misinform the public or disparage their favorite eateries. The feedback process works in the same way a good chef checks diners' plates returning to the kitchen — just to see if they are licked clean or have a lot of untouched leftovers on them.

In the past three months, I have already noticed some culinary trends. I am grateful that the low-carb fad is diminishing. I am anxious for a time when we Americans realize that eliminating certain food groups will never match the sensibility of a balanced diet. Super-size portions seem to be shrinking, and that's a positive thing, too.

I am happy to see small plates and vegetarian offerings gaining table space. The gradual proliferation of wine bars, izakayas and tapas venues has us catching up to a dominant scene elsewhere.

I can definitely appreciate the rooting and sprouting of our local farmers' markets. They help create a connection to fresh, local foods. I never tire of seeing a rainbow of Waimanalo greens, Kahuku corn, Hau'ula tomatoes, Big Island goat cheese and Hamakua mushrooms on any restaurant's menu, showcasing Hawai'i's unique biodiversity.

I have also observed a continuing refinement of Pacific Rim fusion. Genuinely creative and simple dishes are emerging which do not over-blend local ingredients with European and Asian techniques. Ill-contrived mishmashes, such as deep-fried tuna roll containing avocado and cucumber, and misconceived pairings such as unagi and tofu, are fading. Non-fussy dishes stand out: Chef Mike Nevin's white bean salad at the Academy of Arts Pavilion CafÚ and executive chef Todd Wells' sweet potato gnocchi at W Hotel's Diamond Head Grill exemplify this new style of Island cuisine. Thankfully disappearing are the high-rise stacks of the late '90's, topped with obligatory herb branches and curlicue beet and carrot shreds.

This next year, I look forward to more restaurants and grocers, such as Tamura's Market in Kaimuki, opening and reorganizing to showcase their specialties.

I anticipate a time when restaurant menu descriptions actually mean what they say, not using terms that just sound fancy. I expect a cassoulet to contain beans at the very least. A fruit cobbler should be a cobbler under any circumstances — with real dough on top. I hope restaurants try to ensure that hot food will be served hot and not lukewarm or cold.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed for more breakfast places that teach staff to cook an egg a proper over medium when requested, and not just a rare over easy. And I'm still waiting for a thrilling breakfast eatery. I daydream about one that will serve up something exciting and enticing — French toast stuffed with caramelized apple bananas and macadamias, dipped in a rum-vanilla batter; omelettes filled with wild Hamakua mushrooms, spinach and fontina — anything other than the boring standards at the usual places with long lines on Sunday mornings.

We are all — diners, restaurant staff and food critics — collectively responsible for raising the standards. We can learn more about what quality is, and ask for it.

I give a toast to all my restaurant comrades, both front and back of the house, especially those in the kitchen. I also thank my readers and fellow diners. You are on this culinary journey with me.

Reach Helen Wu at hwu@honoluluadvertiser.com.