What is a half-baked manapua anyway? Is it worse than an overcooked malassada? As disappointing as a batch of lomi salmon that's all tomato and no fish? As dangerous as a half-imu'd laulau?

Not since the great sportscaster Chuck Leahey uttered his famous phrase, "Fourth down and one manapua to go," has the snack time favorite been elevated to catch-phrase status.

It's still to be seen if Mufi Hannemann's "half-baked manapua" phrase will make it into the mainstream local lexicon, as in, "Ay, Herbert, you cut your own hair? Look so ... half-baked manapua."

One thing, though: Half-baked manapuas are not a scourge on the community. They're not feared, like old poke or mac salad that sat too long in the sun.

"I think ... the emphasis is more on the half-baked rather than the particular food," Hannemann spokesman Bill Brennan said in an e-mail. "The implication being that the so-called 'plan' of Councilmember Kobayashi is not well-thought out, unsubstantiated, and yes, unappetizing."

Hannemann has been working on the manapua metaphor for rail for a while now, well before Ann Kobayashi came up with her Ez- Way transit plan — even before she took away his E-z primary win. In 2006, talking about funding mass transit, Hannemann said, "If we want the whole enchilada, the whole manapua, we are going to need help to do this."

"Enchilada" got left behind. Manapua came on board, along with a number of other Hannemann food idioms, like "the proof is in the poi," the classic "wow laulau" and the hilarious "squid pro quo."

As far as political food references go, manapua is a brilliant choice. Chinese in origin, Hawaiian in influence, available in both traditional and innovative varieties, it is an egalitarian food. There is a manapua for everybody.

Purists would say the manapua in Hannemann's campaign ad looks like the more popular steamed variety as opposed to the baked kind, but to get stuck on that would be petty. The photo is eye-catching. That manapua just sits there, shapeless and vaguely splatted. You can't even see the dots on the top to decode if it's chicken or char siu or vegetarian. Bleah. It may not be half-baked, but it's half-something.

Long after people have forgotten whose plan Hannemann dubbed a "half-baked manapua," they'll remember the zest with which he spoke those words. Maybe somebody will write him a "half-baked manapua" song, because the only thing that could top hearing him say that phrase would be hearing him singing it.

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.