So in the slightly less than one year since I started my efforts to actually take care of myself, I have officially dropped a full 100 pounds as of this morning.
I think Lucie and I are going to mark this occasion by walking over to The Breakfast Place and having a celebratory horkfest... their bacon waffles and the Monte Cristo are particularly yummy.
.
Coming tomorrow: "96 Pounds and Counting..."
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10,000 Steps for Some Kid in Bolivia
It's no surprise to anybody that knows me that I'm kind of a techogeek. And it's also not too much of a surprise to those same people that I tend to buy cool toys -- err, tools, sorry -- that can feed my geek while also helping fulfill other needs. And while it's also possible -- some may say probable -- that I make up some of those needs just so I can justify buying a new toy -- er, tool, dang it -- there are some times where the need is real. Or at least real enough to actually warrant buying said tool. Er, toy. No, TOOL. Crap.
At any rate, this brings me to my latest tech gadget, my Striiv pedometer. Lucie and I each got one with our tax return this year, and it's been really helping out our desires to become more physically active. It's a smart pedometer that tracks your steps, stairs climbed (technically, equivalent stairs which it also means it counts uphill walks), minutes of activity, and distance walked; and encourages you to increase all of those with a nice combination of physical activity challenges, a Farmville-addictive game, and even a karma boosting pro-social benefit. All told, it's one of the better ways I can think of to spend money if you're in the market for a small piece of highly mobile exercise equipment.
Let's start with the game. MyLand gives you a cute little island where you can build either vegetation or buildings, which earn you gold and potentially attract woodland critters who wander around your property. The hook is, you buy the tree or bush or vineyard or hut with the gold you harvest, but you grow the flowers or topiary or statue or parthenon with energy points, which you can only earn by exercising. Which means, if you want to attract that golden lemur by building the Lemur Treehouse, you'll need to spend 175,000 gold to plant it, which you can get just by being patient and harvesting gold; but you then need to exercise for several hours before you get enough energy points to fully grow it. Oooh, sneaky.
Energy points can be gained organically with just your normal movement through the day -- take more than 500 steps, get 1,000 energy; beat your average number of stairs in a day, gain 2,500 energy -- or with challenges the Striiv gives you, or when you choose to have a challenge offered to you. The latest software upgrade has also added a social element, where you can challenge a nearby friend (or Striiv-created character) to a race to win even more points.
Say I'm sitting on the couch at home watching TV (not exactly an uncommon occurrence.) During a commercial break I check out my Striiv, and I see a challenge: "take 25 stairs in the next 10 minutes." That's just two trips up and down the stairway in our apartment, and I can get 6,000 energy points for it? Heck yeah! So I get off the couch and exercise for a minute or two before the show comes back on, instead of just sitting there like a lump. Go me!
(Of course, the argument could be made that it would be even better if I were to be exercising the entire time instead of sitting there watching TV, but I would also suggest that the people who might make that argument kindly shut up, since they're probably talking during the show I'm trying to watch. My efforts at healthy living do not include giving up episodes of Grimm.)
However, if games aren't your thing, but you still want some sort of feel-good reward for exercising, there's the donations you can make. Striiv has teamed up with GlobalGiving to offer three different ways you can donate with their Walkathon widget: For every 10,000 steps you can conserve a parking space sized area of Tanzanian rain forest; or for 25,000 steps you can provide one immunization shot against childhood polio; or for 10,000 steps you can provide one day's worth of clean drinking water to a child in South America. Not only can I get healthy by exercising, but I can maintain my karmic neutrality the next time I cut in front of an ambulance when it's making all that noise. Yay for being a good person!
And if you don't like playing games, and don't care about helping out your fellow man, you can always feed that internal apathetic sociopathic weirdo by challenging people to races to prove your superiority and physical dominance. The Striiv has a social widget where you can challenge nearby friends with their own Striiv to a race; or if you've pushed away all of your friends by your aggressive behavior and outspoken disdain for polio victims, you can square off against several AI challengers that the Striiv provides. And one of the AI characters is named Sir Bacon, who's so darn cute I could just eat him up (after killing, gutting, cleaning, slicing, curing, smoking, and then pan frying him, of course), so bonus.
Simply challenge Waddles, Sir Bacon or the Walkatron to a 1,000-step race, win (or forfeit the 500 energy it costs to challenge), and spend all those valuable energy points fully building that Acropolis of Heroes.
And then maybe lose that aggressive sociopathic vibe you got going there, 'cause you're kind of starting to scare me.
.
At any rate, this brings me to my latest tech gadget, my Striiv pedometer. Lucie and I each got one with our tax return this year, and it's been really helping out our desires to become more physically active. It's a smart pedometer that tracks your steps, stairs climbed (technically, equivalent stairs which it also means it counts uphill walks), minutes of activity, and distance walked; and encourages you to increase all of those with a nice combination of physical activity challenges, a Farmville-addictive game, and even a karma boosting pro-social benefit. All told, it's one of the better ways I can think of to spend money if you're in the market for a small piece of highly mobile exercise equipment.
Let's start with the game. MyLand gives you a cute little island where you can build either vegetation or buildings, which earn you gold and potentially attract woodland critters who wander around your property. The hook is, you buy the tree or bush or vineyard or hut with the gold you harvest, but you grow the flowers or topiary or statue or parthenon with energy points, which you can only earn by exercising. Which means, if you want to attract that golden lemur by building the Lemur Treehouse, you'll need to spend 175,000 gold to plant it, which you can get just by being patient and harvesting gold; but you then need to exercise for several hours before you get enough energy points to fully grow it. Oooh, sneaky.
Energy points can be gained organically with just your normal movement through the day -- take more than 500 steps, get 1,000 energy; beat your average number of stairs in a day, gain 2,500 energy -- or with challenges the Striiv gives you, or when you choose to have a challenge offered to you. The latest software upgrade has also added a social element, where you can challenge a nearby friend (or Striiv-created character) to a race to win even more points.
Say I'm sitting on the couch at home watching TV (not exactly an uncommon occurrence.) During a commercial break I check out my Striiv, and I see a challenge: "take 25 stairs in the next 10 minutes." That's just two trips up and down the stairway in our apartment, and I can get 6,000 energy points for it? Heck yeah! So I get off the couch and exercise for a minute or two before the show comes back on, instead of just sitting there like a lump. Go me!
(Of course, the argument could be made that it would be even better if I were to be exercising the entire time instead of sitting there watching TV, but I would also suggest that the people who might make that argument kindly shut up, since they're probably talking during the show I'm trying to watch. My efforts at healthy living do not include giving up episodes of Grimm.)
However, if games aren't your thing, but you still want some sort of feel-good reward for exercising, there's the donations you can make. Striiv has teamed up with GlobalGiving to offer three different ways you can donate with their Walkathon widget: For every 10,000 steps you can conserve a parking space sized area of Tanzanian rain forest; or for 25,000 steps you can provide one immunization shot against childhood polio; or for 10,000 steps you can provide one day's worth of clean drinking water to a child in South America. Not only can I get healthy by exercising, but I can maintain my karmic neutrality the next time I cut in front of an ambulance when it's making all that noise. Yay for being a good person!And if you don't like playing games, and don't care about helping out your fellow man, you can always feed that internal apathetic sociopathic weirdo by challenging people to races to prove your superiority and physical dominance. The Striiv has a social widget where you can challenge nearby friends with their own Striiv to a race; or if you've pushed away all of your friends by your aggressive behavior and outspoken disdain for polio victims, you can square off against several AI challengers that the Striiv provides. And one of the AI characters is named Sir Bacon, who's so darn cute I could just eat him up (after killing, gutting, cleaning, slicing, curing, smoking, and then pan frying him, of course), so bonus.
Simply challenge Waddles, Sir Bacon or the Walkatron to a 1,000-step race, win (or forfeit the 500 energy it costs to challenge), and spend all those valuable energy points fully building that Acropolis of Heroes.
And then maybe lose that aggressive sociopathic vibe you got going there, 'cause you're kind of starting to scare me.
.
1 Midlife Crisis, Geek Style
So I just turned 41. I don't have the answer to life, the universe, or really much of anything (Douglas Adams says that’s not supposed to come until next year)... but I do have an awesome wife who is willing to feed my geek (and also geek out at how we feed, which comes into play in a bit.) Combine this with the fact that I've collected a bunch of rewards points at my job -- which they give in lieu of actual bonus checks -- and the end result is that within the last few weeks I've picked up an Xbox 360 with the Kinect accessory, the new iPad, and a slew of digital media; participated in a public art project; and invited our families and friends out to a full cowload of barbecue.
First off, I pick up the Xbox for a few different reasons... first, because I'm a geek. Also, I end up playing games with my nephew whenever we go to Fresno, and I'm sick of getting my butt handed to me when we challenge each other, and the only way I can get reasonably competent is to practice more than once every month or two, which means getting one for myself. Plus, even though I'm doing well with my weight loss -- almost 90 pounds down now, thankyouVERYmuch -- I'm still too fat to be able to use the Wii Fit balance board. Ouch. I can, however, use the Kinect; so I get The Biggest Loser game for the Kinect to help with my exercise and technogeeky regimens.
Plus, hey... Rage. All the best of a post-apocalyptic first person shooter combined with the fun of vehicular combat. You can go from cleaning out mutant-filled sewers with your trusty shotgun to cruising through a canyon taking out dune buggies with your car-mounted missile launcher -- what else could a guy want?!
So I cash in a bunch of my rewards points to get Best Buy gift cards and use them to get some console goodness. Added bonus: I get Best Buy rewards points for buying the Xbox, so I should be getting a gift certificate from them in the near future. Woo-hoo! XBL gamer tag: Silverfist 71, yo.
As for the iPad... You can pretty much just read my previous entry about the iPad 2 to know exactly what happens here: Step 1: Resist the urge to pre-order. Step 2: Keep repeating the mantra of “I have willpower! I have willpower!” Step 3: Relax on opening day, content in the knowledge that I do, in fact, have willpower and that I’m not some loser standing in line like a sheep, waiting to buy the newest shiny Apple product. Step 4: Actually read a review of the newest shiny Apple product and/or see one in person. Step 5: Willpower crumbles like the Pacific Coast Highway in Big Sur, and I run out and buy one as soon as I possibly can.
But in my defense… this thing is TOTALLY new and shiny! Just read some of the reviews!
.
*sigh*
.
And, of course, to go along with my new tech I have to get games, right? What good is a game console or ultra-high definition screen without something to go with it? So I also pick up a bunch of games for the Xbox (which kind of ruins that whole “not having to spend money on an Xbox because I’m using reward points” concept) and buy new (and upgrade current) apps for the new iPad with better graphics (which includes Angry Birds Space because I’m a sucker for a gimmick [which I believe might have been mentioned before…]) and I even grab Game of Thrones on Blu-Ray for those times I may want to enjoy some wholesome entertainment instead of something violent like a video game.
So I successfully feed my inner geek's needs. And in lieu of getting a sports car or getting a hair weave, I decide to help the middle age part of myself feel younger by taking up art.
Or, more appropriately, I do the minimum possible to participate in an art project by submitting my workplace coffee mug to the San Jose Institute of Contemporary Art’s online portion of their exhibit The Office, so just like a supermodel I now have my mug posted online. I feel younger and more hip already! Except that I just used the word “hip” to denote coolness, which shows just how old I am. Crap.
Luckily, there's one more way to feel good about getting older, and that's treating my family and friends to a big greasy meal and saying to heck with my diet for a day. We decide on meeting between Fresno and the Bay Area, at Hot City Barbecue in Los Baños. We love these guys -- I've talked about them before, on more than one occasion -- and they dig us as well. The owners know us by name, they've told us before that if we call them when we're on our way down they'll stay open late for us if we want to eat dinner on the way to Fresno, and even their staff recognizes us and knows our usual orders.
We ask Hot City if we can do this, they agree, we have fun with RSVPs, almost everyone who responded in the positive shows up, and a beefy, porky, chickeny time is had by all. Hot City is ecstatic about the extra business, we're happy because we're able to get more people trying out their food, and everyone with whom I spoke had good reviews for the food itself. Woo-hoo, yum, and burp.
So that's it... I'm officially a year older by the calendar's reckoning; I still feel a lot older than I actually am because of my weight and stress from work; and I still act a whole lot younger than I actually am. By my math, this averages out to be even. So there you have it; a middle aged geek, getting my tech on.
Next year, I want a Segway.
.
First off, I pick up the Xbox for a few different reasons... first, because I'm a geek. Also, I end up playing games with my nephew whenever we go to Fresno, and I'm sick of getting my butt handed to me when we challenge each other, and the only way I can get reasonably competent is to practice more than once every month or two, which means getting one for myself. Plus, even though I'm doing well with my weight loss -- almost 90 pounds down now, thankyouVERYmuch -- I'm still too fat to be able to use the Wii Fit balance board. Ouch. I can, however, use the Kinect; so I get The Biggest Loser game for the Kinect to help with my exercise and technogeeky regimens.
Plus, hey... Rage. All the best of a post-apocalyptic first person shooter combined with the fun of vehicular combat. You can go from cleaning out mutant-filled sewers with your trusty shotgun to cruising through a canyon taking out dune buggies with your car-mounted missile launcher -- what else could a guy want?!
So I cash in a bunch of my rewards points to get Best Buy gift cards and use them to get some console goodness. Added bonus: I get Best Buy rewards points for buying the Xbox, so I should be getting a gift certificate from them in the near future. Woo-hoo! XBL gamer tag: Silverfist 71, yo.
As for the iPad... You can pretty much just read my previous entry about the iPad 2 to know exactly what happens here: Step 1: Resist the urge to pre-order. Step 2: Keep repeating the mantra of “I have willpower! I have willpower!” Step 3: Relax on opening day, content in the knowledge that I do, in fact, have willpower and that I’m not some loser standing in line like a sheep, waiting to buy the newest shiny Apple product. Step 4: Actually read a review of the newest shiny Apple product and/or see one in person. Step 5: Willpower crumbles like the Pacific Coast Highway in Big Sur, and I run out and buy one as soon as I possibly can.
But in my defense… this thing is TOTALLY new and shiny! Just read some of the reviews!
.
*sigh*
.
And, of course, to go along with my new tech I have to get games, right? What good is a game console or ultra-high definition screen without something to go with it? So I also pick up a bunch of games for the Xbox (which kind of ruins that whole “not having to spend money on an Xbox because I’m using reward points” concept) and buy new (and upgrade current) apps for the new iPad with better graphics (which includes Angry Birds Space because I’m a sucker for a gimmick [which I believe might have been mentioned before…]) and I even grab Game of Thrones on Blu-Ray for those times I may want to enjoy some wholesome entertainment instead of something violent like a video game.
So I successfully feed my inner geek's needs. And in lieu of getting a sports car or getting a hair weave, I decide to help the middle age part of myself feel younger by taking up art.
Or, more appropriately, I do the minimum possible to participate in an art project by submitting my workplace coffee mug to the San Jose Institute of Contemporary Art’s online portion of their exhibit The Office, so just like a supermodel I now have my mug posted online. I feel younger and more hip already! Except that I just used the word “hip” to denote coolness, which shows just how old I am. Crap.
Luckily, there's one more way to feel good about getting older, and that's treating my family and friends to a big greasy meal and saying to heck with my diet for a day. We decide on meeting between Fresno and the Bay Area, at Hot City Barbecue in Los Baños. We love these guys -- I've talked about them before, on more than one occasion -- and they dig us as well. The owners know us by name, they've told us before that if we call them when we're on our way down they'll stay open late for us if we want to eat dinner on the way to Fresno, and even their staff recognizes us and knows our usual orders.
We ask Hot City if we can do this, they agree, we have fun with RSVPs, almost everyone who responded in the positive shows up, and a beefy, porky, chickeny time is had by all. Hot City is ecstatic about the extra business, we're happy because we're able to get more people trying out their food, and everyone with whom I spoke had good reviews for the food itself. Woo-hoo, yum, and burp.
So that's it... I'm officially a year older by the calendar's reckoning; I still feel a lot older than I actually am because of my weight and stress from work; and I still act a whole lot younger than I actually am. By my math, this averages out to be even. So there you have it; a middle aged geek, getting my tech on.
Next year, I want a Segway.
.
1 Step Back, 2 Steps Forward
So, the good news -- over the last two weeks, I've lost a total of two pounds. This is progress.
However, it's not all that impressive when you consider that this week I managed to lose a little over 5 pounds, which means that last week was not exactly helping me reach my weight loss goals. Maybe it was one of the managers at work wanting to thank me for working overtime two Sundays in a row by taking me to an Indian buffet for lunch, where a spicy, heady combination of deep fried carbs and lamb sucker-punched both my colon and my calorie count; maybe it was taking one of my coworkers to The Hukilau for lunch, where I gave in to temptation and had a loco moco, which is that wonderful meal consisting of two fried eggs on top of two hamburger patties, which are in turn on top of steamed white rice, with brown gravy smothering the whole lot, and with macaroni salad on the side; maybe it was when we went to Effie's for dinner after work one day, and a slice of cheesecake that must have weighed over a pound accidentally fell into my mouth after my dinner of pasta and cream sauce; however, my belief is that I still managed to lose weight anyway, and that my scale somehow got messed up. All three times I weighed myself, to make sure there wasn't a hardware malfunction, although in retrospect there certainly must have been.
It could happen.
Anyway, after I got the unfortunate reading we did our best to get back into the healthy eating frame of mind, which is all just a really long-winded way of getting to my main point, which is: we had a really good dinner at the Fish Market.
We've been meaning to increase the amount of fish on our diet anyway, since many types of fish are high in omega-3 acids and relatively low in fat and calories, and because people say it's healthy and stuff. Or something. It's also entirely possible I harbor some deep resentment toward Nemo, but I don't want to go there.
Anyway, Fish Market. After a shorter-than-expected wait in the crowded lobby, we get seated and try out an appetizer that Lucie had read about, a Fireball -- this is a sushi roll of sorts, with a mushroom cap stuffed with spicy tuna, then covered in tempura and fried golden brown. It tastes as good as it sounds. We also get the ahi poke, which is heavier on the sesame flavor than what I'm used to with poke but also downright delicious. It comes with fried wonton strips, and served over limu (seaweed) salad, slightly tangy and vinegary and very subtly sweet, and something which I learned to appreciate from our trips to Hawai'i.
Just about the time we finish our appetizers, our main dishes arrive. Lucie goes with the mesquite grilled salmon, with sautéed veggies. I choose something that one of my fellow foodie coworkers has suggested, the seafood salad with avocado -- it's a large bed of mixed greens, cherry tomatoes, sliced cucumber, hard boiled egg, haricot vert, what looks like an entire sliced avocado, dressed very lightly in a basil vinaigrette, and with your seafood of choice in the center -- in my case, crab.
There's a lot of crab, too -- easily half a pound, probably more, with many jumbo lump pieces scattered throughout. Sweet, fresh in flavor, and the perfect accompaniment to the salad, it takes that was already a good salad and raises it up to "one of the better salads I've had" status, only a little below the 13 Dolla' Salad from Wok Star on Maui (both in economic value and awesome tastiness.)
It's such a good salad, in fact, that we both decide that later this year, once it's warm and we're in the mood for a nice cool salad for dinner, we're coming back and having it again. I might opt for the lobster instead of the crab -- they also offer shrimp or tuna variants -- but that seems a bit extravagant for a salad. Delicious, certainly, but extravagant.
And we all know just how freakin' low-key and humble I am.
.
However, it's not all that impressive when you consider that this week I managed to lose a little over 5 pounds, which means that last week was not exactly helping me reach my weight loss goals. Maybe it was one of the managers at work wanting to thank me for working overtime two Sundays in a row by taking me to an Indian buffet for lunch, where a spicy, heady combination of deep fried carbs and lamb sucker-punched both my colon and my calorie count; maybe it was taking one of my coworkers to The Hukilau for lunch, where I gave in to temptation and had a loco moco, which is that wonderful meal consisting of two fried eggs on top of two hamburger patties, which are in turn on top of steamed white rice, with brown gravy smothering the whole lot, and with macaroni salad on the side; maybe it was when we went to Effie's for dinner after work one day, and a slice of cheesecake that must have weighed over a pound accidentally fell into my mouth after my dinner of pasta and cream sauce; however, my belief is that I still managed to lose weight anyway, and that my scale somehow got messed up. All three times I weighed myself, to make sure there wasn't a hardware malfunction, although in retrospect there certainly must have been.
It could happen.
Anyway, after I got the unfortunate reading we did our best to get back into the healthy eating frame of mind, which is all just a really long-winded way of getting to my main point, which is: we had a really good dinner at the Fish Market.
We've been meaning to increase the amount of fish on our diet anyway, since many types of fish are high in omega-3 acids and relatively low in fat and calories, and because people say it's healthy and stuff. Or something. It's also entirely possible I harbor some deep resentment toward Nemo, but I don't want to go there.
Anyway, Fish Market. After a shorter-than-expected wait in the crowded lobby, we get seated and try out an appetizer that Lucie had read about, a Fireball -- this is a sushi roll of sorts, with a mushroom cap stuffed with spicy tuna, then covered in tempura and fried golden brown. It tastes as good as it sounds. We also get the ahi poke, which is heavier on the sesame flavor than what I'm used to with poke but also downright delicious. It comes with fried wonton strips, and served over limu (seaweed) salad, slightly tangy and vinegary and very subtly sweet, and something which I learned to appreciate from our trips to Hawai'i.
Just about the time we finish our appetizers, our main dishes arrive. Lucie goes with the mesquite grilled salmon, with sautéed veggies. I choose something that one of my fellow foodie coworkers has suggested, the seafood salad with avocado -- it's a large bed of mixed greens, cherry tomatoes, sliced cucumber, hard boiled egg, haricot vert, what looks like an entire sliced avocado, dressed very lightly in a basil vinaigrette, and with your seafood of choice in the center -- in my case, crab.
There's a lot of crab, too -- easily half a pound, probably more, with many jumbo lump pieces scattered throughout. Sweet, fresh in flavor, and the perfect accompaniment to the salad, it takes that was already a good salad and raises it up to "one of the better salads I've had" status, only a little below the 13 Dolla' Salad from Wok Star on Maui (both in economic value and awesome tastiness.)
It's such a good salad, in fact, that we both decide that later this year, once it's warm and we're in the mood for a nice cool salad for dinner, we're coming back and having it again. I might opt for the lobster instead of the crab -- they also offer shrimp or tuna variants -- but that seems a bit extravagant for a salad. Delicious, certainly, but extravagant.
And we all know just how freakin' low-key and humble I am.
.
1 Big Fat Whiny Dude, at Lunch
So as I sit here, eating my black bean gardenburger with sauteed mushrooms and sugar-free NOS energy drink, unable to lift my arms above shoulder height without pain because Lucie and I had one of our sessions with our personal trainer last night, I totally appreciate the fact that because of this freakin' diet and because of the weekly sessions with the perky and athletic and far too happy twentysomething chick who tries to kill us with exercise, that since I've started my diet I've lost 70 pounds and 8 inches of waistline.
This, in spite of gaining ten pounds on our Hawaiian vacation -- thanks in no small part to those sugary tropical drinks at sunset -- and basically plateauing during the Thanksgiving and Christmas shutdowns where I sat around all day instead of working; so all things considered, I'm totally stoked at the progress. Heck, even without those things taken into consideration it's still pretty impressive.
So, groovy.
But, as I sit here, eating my black bean gardenburger with sauteed mushrooms and sugar-free NOS energy drink, unable to lift my arms above shoulder height without pain because Lucie and I had one of our sessions with our personal trainer last night, I SO totally want a cheeseburger. I'm talking a huge, greasy, red meat bonanza; a half pound, minimum, of ground cow on toasted bun; a cholesterol-laden unhealthy monster patty made of 100% beef and 98% yum, smothered in melted cheese that's a color not found in nature.
I want Five Guys. I want The Counter. I want St. John's. Heck, I even want Red Robin.
Dieting is worth it, they say.
Well, THEY can suck it. Gimme a cheeseburger.
.
This, in spite of gaining ten pounds on our Hawaiian vacation -- thanks in no small part to those sugary tropical drinks at sunset -- and basically plateauing during the Thanksgiving and Christmas shutdowns where I sat around all day instead of working; so all things considered, I'm totally stoked at the progress. Heck, even without those things taken into consideration it's still pretty impressive.
So, groovy.
But, as I sit here, eating my black bean gardenburger with sauteed mushrooms and sugar-free NOS energy drink, unable to lift my arms above shoulder height without pain because Lucie and I had one of our sessions with our personal trainer last night, I SO totally want a cheeseburger. I'm talking a huge, greasy, red meat bonanza; a half pound, minimum, of ground cow on toasted bun; a cholesterol-laden unhealthy monster patty made of 100% beef and 98% yum, smothered in melted cheese that's a color not found in nature.
I want Five Guys. I want The Counter. I want St. John's. Heck, I even want Red Robin.
Dieting is worth it, they say.
Well, THEY can suck it. Gimme a cheeseburger.
.
6 Trucks @MVBLfeast
So in spite of my trying (and succeeding, thankyouVERYmuch) to diet, I am still quite the foodie at heart. So much so that I've finally given up one of my last resolves and created a Twitter account to follow San Jose's growing food truck scene.
I am so totally not one to embrace social media... if there were such a thing as antisocial media, then I'd be all over it. I'd create a "(bleep)YouTube" account in no time, spend hours updating my InYourFacebook page, be posting daily on GetOutOfMySpace, and be an editor on Jerkipedia. But sadly, there isn't (wait -- is there? If there's an antisocial media subculture out there, let me know about it. Don't be so standoffish about sharing it.) My sole contribution to social media is this blog, and as I've said on more than one occasion this is more for me than anyone else; I'm fairly certain that I'm the most regular reader to be sure.
Anyway, I have since backed off slightly from my technoloner ways and created a Twitter account, so we can follow and try out the food truck scene. There are a lot of trucks that have Twitter accounts, letting followers know where they'll be (a necessary thing if you want regular customers and have a nomadic eatery), but the one we were most interested in is Moveable Feast, organizers of multi-truck gatherings on weekends and other special events. They used to organize gatherings in San Pedro Square downtown, but they were having problems with the crowds and traffic, and long lines gathering in an area that wasn't designed for large crowds milling around.
And when I see on their Twitter feed they they were organizing some trucks at Garden City for lunch, well, we just have to give it a try. There were six trucks involved -- one of which we'd already tried earlier in the week -- so we figure we'll have a multiethnic fast food bonanza for our midday meal.
We find a decent parking spot (which is in and of itself remarkable, since it's in the Garden City / Harry's Hofbrau parking lot, which is always crowded; and there's a mini flea market going on at the same location as Moveable Feast) and make our way to where the trucks are parked in a semicircle around a plethora of folding chairs and a couple of awnings. Lucie and I split our forces to try and maximize our foraging -- the lines are a bit long and the crowd is densely packed -- so I head to the Wow Truck while Lucie heads to An the Go. I'm still in line waiting to order when Lucie comes back with her ticket in hand, so I jump out of line and head over to MoGo BBQ instead, since there's no line there. Within a few minutes, our orders are both ready and we find a place to sit and eat.
An the Go is a truck created by the An family... they have a couple of restaurants in San Francisco, and decided to take their crowd-favorite garlic noodles out into the mobile food scene. Lucie gets their garlic noodles and pork skewer; the noodles are indeed delicious -- I promise myself I'm going to experiment to see if I can make them at home -- and the teriyaki pork skewer is good, but it sort of fades into the background when compared to the noodles. They're a little too carby for me and my diet, however, so I don't have as much as I'd like to.
MoGo BBQ is Korean BBQ, with more than a little bit of fusion. I order a spicy pork taco, a chicken taco, and some Hawaiian influenced short rib sliders... the spicy pork taco is Lucie's favorite dish of the day, and the short rib sliders are messy but very tasty. The sliders come with shredded cheese and I'm unable to pick most of it off so Lucie is only able to have one of the 3 that come in the order; I enjoy the other two -- the cubed short rib meat has a lot of sweet charred flavor and is mixed with Spam pieces (and we all know how good Spam is!) and slaw, all stuffed into Hawaiian sweet bread. It's a great combination of flavors, with just a hint of spicy goodness from the sauce they provide.
We enjoy the dishes, then we take turns getting more food while the other one remains and protects our seating arrangement. Lucie hits Soulnese -- we'd had their food earlier in the week when we hunted down their truck after work -- and I decide to try out Sanguchon.
Soulnese bills themselves as Chinese soul food; we limit ourselves today to their Soul Stix and Mac & Rolls since we'd already tried out their other food previously. The Soul Stix -- our favorite item on their menu -- are grilled prawns wrapped around slices of hot link sausage, with a garlicky aioli sauce drizzled on top; the mac & rolls are macaroni & cheese egg rolls, with all of the deliciously cheesy greasy fatty goodness that that implies, accompanied by a ginger ranch dipping sauce. Their other items are also worth a try... garlic fries topped with fried pork strips, lemongrass aromatic fried chicken, and Mongolian tri tip are all fantastic, and while I haven't had it yet just the name of their "Jive Porky" plate (pork chop, ham, and bacon with fried rice) guarantees I'll be hitting this place at least one more time to give it a taste test.
Sanguchon is the mobile version of a triad of restaurants, all serving Peruvian food. I get an order of fried plantains for Lucie, and some sweet potato fries and a sandwich to share. The sandwich bread is made specially for Sanguchon, and is delicious -- dense, crispy and able to withstand a dental onslaught while keeping structural integrity, which is important: I pretty much mow through most of the sandwich before I remember I'm supposed to save some for Lucie to try out. The item I picked is pan con chicharron (pork loin with sweet potato fries, red onion, and a garlic aioli), but everything on the menu sounds fantastic. This is by far my favorite new food of the day, and I immediately add them to my Twitter account's Food Truck list for future meals.
While I'm waiting for the Sanguchon order to come up, I swing by the adjacent MoGo BBQ truck again and pick up some more tacos (one each of the chicken, spicy pork, and short rib -- I pass on the tofu this time around) for later.
Unfortunately, the Wow truck isn't sampled today, as the lines were too long every time we went out foraging; but the Filipino dishes all sound really good so we remember it for next time. I was looking forward to the silog experience (grilled meat over garlic rice, with fried egg on top) and to their Shanghai lumpia, too.
Likewise, the Project Cupcake truck isn't sampled either -- they're out of stock by the time we're ready for dessert. They offer fully customized cupcakes to order (you choose cupcake, frosting[s], topping[s], and dusting) but apparently didn't make enough for the day. This was apparently their first time at Moveable Feast -- I believe that normally the dessert portion is covered by Treatbot, the ice cream karaoke truck that we also tried earlier in the week when they paired with Soulnese (well, *I* tried them since it's ice cream; the Mexican chocolate ice cream in the waffle cup was great, and the pineapple-coconut ice cream reminded me of Hawaii, only with the danger being brain freeze instead of head trauma from falling coconuts) so it's entirely possible they weren't prepared for the crowds. Maybe we'll get to try them again next time we come to Moveable Feast, or if I see they're going to be nearby the next time I go on Twitter.
As with most street food, everything was a bit greasy; but as with *good* street food, the flavors more than made up for that and everything else. An excess of deep fryer grease, long waits, challenging seating conditions, relatively expensive food for somewhat small portion sizes... doesn't matter a whit. Food good? Yep. Really darn good food? Yuppers.
Going to go again? You betcha.
(Still losing weight? Surprisingly, yes; even with culinary adventuring. Since mid-June, I've dropped over 55 pounds. w00t.)
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I am so totally not one to embrace social media... if there were such a thing as antisocial media, then I'd be all over it. I'd create a "(bleep)YouTube" account in no time, spend hours updating my InYourFacebook page, be posting daily on GetOutOfMySpace, and be an editor on Jerkipedia. But sadly, there isn't (wait -- is there? If there's an antisocial media subculture out there, let me know about it. Don't be so standoffish about sharing it.) My sole contribution to social media is this blog, and as I've said on more than one occasion this is more for me than anyone else; I'm fairly certain that I'm the most regular reader to be sure.
Anyway, I have since backed off slightly from my technoloner ways and created a Twitter account, so we can follow and try out the food truck scene. There are a lot of trucks that have Twitter accounts, letting followers know where they'll be (a necessary thing if you want regular customers and have a nomadic eatery), but the one we were most interested in is Moveable Feast, organizers of multi-truck gatherings on weekends and other special events. They used to organize gatherings in San Pedro Square downtown, but they were having problems with the crowds and traffic, and long lines gathering in an area that wasn't designed for large crowds milling around.
And when I see on their Twitter feed they they were organizing some trucks at Garden City for lunch, well, we just have to give it a try. There were six trucks involved -- one of which we'd already tried earlier in the week -- so we figure we'll have a multiethnic fast food bonanza for our midday meal.
We find a decent parking spot (which is in and of itself remarkable, since it's in the Garden City / Harry's Hofbrau parking lot, which is always crowded; and there's a mini flea market going on at the same location as Moveable Feast) and make our way to where the trucks are parked in a semicircle around a plethora of folding chairs and a couple of awnings. Lucie and I split our forces to try and maximize our foraging -- the lines are a bit long and the crowd is densely packed -- so I head to the Wow Truck while Lucie heads to An the Go. I'm still in line waiting to order when Lucie comes back with her ticket in hand, so I jump out of line and head over to MoGo BBQ instead, since there's no line there. Within a few minutes, our orders are both ready and we find a place to sit and eat.
An the Go is a truck created by the An family... they have a couple of restaurants in San Francisco, and decided to take their crowd-favorite garlic noodles out into the mobile food scene. Lucie gets their garlic noodles and pork skewer; the noodles are indeed delicious -- I promise myself I'm going to experiment to see if I can make them at home -- and the teriyaki pork skewer is good, but it sort of fades into the background when compared to the noodles. They're a little too carby for me and my diet, however, so I don't have as much as I'd like to.
MoGo BBQ is Korean BBQ, with more than a little bit of fusion. I order a spicy pork taco, a chicken taco, and some Hawaiian influenced short rib sliders... the spicy pork taco is Lucie's favorite dish of the day, and the short rib sliders are messy but very tasty. The sliders come with shredded cheese and I'm unable to pick most of it off so Lucie is only able to have one of the 3 that come in the order; I enjoy the other two -- the cubed short rib meat has a lot of sweet charred flavor and is mixed with Spam pieces (and we all know how good Spam is!) and slaw, all stuffed into Hawaiian sweet bread. It's a great combination of flavors, with just a hint of spicy goodness from the sauce they provide.
We enjoy the dishes, then we take turns getting more food while the other one remains and protects our seating arrangement. Lucie hits Soulnese -- we'd had their food earlier in the week when we hunted down their truck after work -- and I decide to try out Sanguchon.
Soulnese bills themselves as Chinese soul food; we limit ourselves today to their Soul Stix and Mac & Rolls since we'd already tried out their other food previously. The Soul Stix -- our favorite item on their menu -- are grilled prawns wrapped around slices of hot link sausage, with a garlicky aioli sauce drizzled on top; the mac & rolls are macaroni & cheese egg rolls, with all of the deliciously cheesy greasy fatty goodness that that implies, accompanied by a ginger ranch dipping sauce. Their other items are also worth a try... garlic fries topped with fried pork strips, lemongrass aromatic fried chicken, and Mongolian tri tip are all fantastic, and while I haven't had it yet just the name of their "Jive Porky" plate (pork chop, ham, and bacon with fried rice) guarantees I'll be hitting this place at least one more time to give it a taste test.
Sanguchon is the mobile version of a triad of restaurants, all serving Peruvian food. I get an order of fried plantains for Lucie, and some sweet potato fries and a sandwich to share. The sandwich bread is made specially for Sanguchon, and is delicious -- dense, crispy and able to withstand a dental onslaught while keeping structural integrity, which is important: I pretty much mow through most of the sandwich before I remember I'm supposed to save some for Lucie to try out. The item I picked is pan con chicharron (pork loin with sweet potato fries, red onion, and a garlic aioli), but everything on the menu sounds fantastic. This is by far my favorite new food of the day, and I immediately add them to my Twitter account's Food Truck list for future meals.
While I'm waiting for the Sanguchon order to come up, I swing by the adjacent MoGo BBQ truck again and pick up some more tacos (one each of the chicken, spicy pork, and short rib -- I pass on the tofu this time around) for later.
Unfortunately, the Wow truck isn't sampled today, as the lines were too long every time we went out foraging; but the Filipino dishes all sound really good so we remember it for next time. I was looking forward to the silog experience (grilled meat over garlic rice, with fried egg on top) and to their Shanghai lumpia, too.
Likewise, the Project Cupcake truck isn't sampled either -- they're out of stock by the time we're ready for dessert. They offer fully customized cupcakes to order (you choose cupcake, frosting[s], topping[s], and dusting) but apparently didn't make enough for the day. This was apparently their first time at Moveable Feast -- I believe that normally the dessert portion is covered by Treatbot, the ice cream karaoke truck that we also tried earlier in the week when they paired with Soulnese (well, *I* tried them since it's ice cream; the Mexican chocolate ice cream in the waffle cup was great, and the pineapple-coconut ice cream reminded me of Hawaii, only with the danger being brain freeze instead of head trauma from falling coconuts) so it's entirely possible they weren't prepared for the crowds. Maybe we'll get to try them again next time we come to Moveable Feast, or if I see they're going to be nearby the next time I go on Twitter.
As with most street food, everything was a bit greasy; but as with *good* street food, the flavors more than made up for that and everything else. An excess of deep fryer grease, long waits, challenging seating conditions, relatively expensive food for somewhat small portion sizes... doesn't matter a whit. Food good? Yep. Really darn good food? Yuppers.
Going to go again? You betcha.
(Still losing weight? Surprisingly, yes; even with culinary adventuring. Since mid-June, I've dropped over 55 pounds. w00t.)
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Hawa1'1, Day 11: "Aloha, a Hui Hou."
(Side note -- it's actually taken me almost three weeks to type this last entry from our vacation... Something to do with not wanting it to end a second time?)
Our last day in Hawai'i... This year, at least.
Okay, next year, too -- can't afford to go every year, as much as we'd like to.
It's a fairly standard morning otherwise, with high waves, bright sun, and no cruise ship in the bay. We wake up, finish packing, and divide our forces as I go get our Mustang Sally from the parking lot while Lucie escorts the bellboy to the outdoor lobby and settles our bill (somewhat larger than advertised due to our bar tab.). By the time I drive around to the front of the hotel and assist the bellboy trying to get everything crammed into the microtrunk and back seat, Lucie's done with the financials and ready to go.
We make our last drive up along the Queen Ka'ahumanu Highway to the airport, and I drop off Lucie and our luggage while I return our rental. The first two times we came to Hawai'i, we used Thrifty car rentals because of the price; but after I was given attitude by the desk clerk (in Hawai'i, attitude!) and a sorely underpowered vehicle on our last trip, I'm glad we made the change. Our Mustang was more powerful, comfortable, and just looks so much better than the Chrysler Sebring that Thrifty offers, so I think we're going to coming back to Budget from now on. Plus, hey -- no seat belt extender needed on the Mustang.
By the time I get back to the airport terminal, Lucie already has the luggage checked (thanks to our old friends the Hawaii Porter Service) and has our tickets in hand. Unfortunately, we got a bit of a late start this morning, so we don't have a chance to check out the first class lounge before we make our way to the gate. We tell ourselves that we'll check it out next time, and board our flight to Honolulu.
We disembark our shuttle flight, hike our way across the miles and miles of Honolulu International Airport walkways and corridors and escalators and construction sites, stairwells and rock quarries, temporary plywood flooring, and assorted debris from the seemingly never-ending construction; and eventually find our way to our departure gate.
It's dark and deserted, which is to be expected; we have a two and a half hour layover, so the gate is unmanned for the time being. We take a short walk over to a Starbucks (and yes, I know there's probably some aphorism that only haole tourists visit a Starbucks in Hawai'i, but Mountain Thunder doesn't have a kiosk here yet so it was 'Bucky's or Gordon Biersch, and I've never been that much of a beer drinker) and grab some bottles of water for later and some caffeine for immediate use. My coconut mocha Frapuccino is almost too sweet, but still refreshing, and it gives us the energy to wander further along the concourse to an airport gift shop.
We peruse the area, buying last-minute gifts (fridge magnets), snacks (pineapple flavored gummy bears), and assorted items for the flight home (Hawaiian print neck pillows, and ear plugs since on 2 of the 3 flights so far we've ended up sitting in close proximity to a crying baby.) We drink one of the bottled waters (even in the airport terminal it's incredibly warm and humid -- we think the air conditioning is shut off due to the nearby renovations) and head back to our waiting area.
We spend the next hour or so reading books, playing Angry Birds and Plants Vs. Zombies and Words With Friends, drinking water, and taking pictures of the restroom signs that have Aloha wear on the silhouettes.
Soon enough, though, our plane is ready for boarding; so we gather our things, head to the front of the line (yay for first class tickets!), and board the plane for our flight home.
We spend the next several hours watching movies of questionable quality (The Expendables and Battlefield L.A.) and enjoying food of much better quality (I have a gourmet cheese selection; grilled salmon with miso cream sauce, asparagus, and mashed potatoes; and Sichuan-style eggplant with red peppers and brown rice. Lucie has Asian chicken salad; hoisin barbecue ribs, steamed rice, and mixed veggies; and the Sichuan eggplant. My dessert is a Kona coffee ice cream bombe glacée, with whipped cream and fresh raspberries.)
We land at Oakland airport late at night, and have only a short wait before we're picked up by Dean -- no stretch limo on the ride home, but the town car is just fine with us. We run into a huge amount of traffic on the way home, since apparently they're doing construction on I-880 about a mile or so before our exit. No worries -- I just direct Dean back to our place using city streets, and we arrive back home safe and sound (if more than a little sad we're no longer in Hawai'i.)
So our third trip to Hawai'i has come and gone; we've celebrated our tenth anniversary; had our luggage searched once again by the TSA; and I gained a little over ten pounds (mostly through alcohol and POG consumption.)
I'm also considering starting a new blog: "720 Days in San Jose", counting down the days until our next trip.
"Day 720: counted down the hours until Day 719..."
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Our last day in Hawai'i... This year, at least.
Okay, next year, too -- can't afford to go every year, as much as we'd like to.
It's a fairly standard morning otherwise, with high waves, bright sun, and no cruise ship in the bay. We wake up, finish packing, and divide our forces as I go get our Mustang Sally from the parking lot while Lucie escorts the bellboy to the outdoor lobby and settles our bill (somewhat larger than advertised due to our bar tab.). By the time I drive around to the front of the hotel and assist the bellboy trying to get everything crammed into the microtrunk and back seat, Lucie's done with the financials and ready to go.
We make our last drive up along the Queen Ka'ahumanu Highway to the airport, and I drop off Lucie and our luggage while I return our rental. The first two times we came to Hawai'i, we used Thrifty car rentals because of the price; but after I was given attitude by the desk clerk (in Hawai'i, attitude!) and a sorely underpowered vehicle on our last trip, I'm glad we made the change. Our Mustang was more powerful, comfortable, and just looks so much better than the Chrysler Sebring that Thrifty offers, so I think we're going to coming back to Budget from now on. Plus, hey -- no seat belt extender needed on the Mustang.
By the time I get back to the airport terminal, Lucie already has the luggage checked (thanks to our old friends the Hawaii Porter Service) and has our tickets in hand. Unfortunately, we got a bit of a late start this morning, so we don't have a chance to check out the first class lounge before we make our way to the gate. We tell ourselves that we'll check it out next time, and board our flight to Honolulu.
We disembark our shuttle flight, hike our way across the miles and miles of Honolulu International Airport walkways and corridors and escalators and construction sites, stairwells and rock quarries, temporary plywood flooring, and assorted debris from the seemingly never-ending construction; and eventually find our way to our departure gate.
It's dark and deserted, which is to be expected; we have a two and a half hour layover, so the gate is unmanned for the time being. We take a short walk over to a Starbucks (and yes, I know there's probably some aphorism that only haole tourists visit a Starbucks in Hawai'i, but Mountain Thunder doesn't have a kiosk here yet so it was 'Bucky's or Gordon Biersch, and I've never been that much of a beer drinker) and grab some bottles of water for later and some caffeine for immediate use. My coconut mocha Frapuccino is almost too sweet, but still refreshing, and it gives us the energy to wander further along the concourse to an airport gift shop.
We peruse the area, buying last-minute gifts (fridge magnets), snacks (pineapple flavored gummy bears), and assorted items for the flight home (Hawaiian print neck pillows, and ear plugs since on 2 of the 3 flights so far we've ended up sitting in close proximity to a crying baby.) We drink one of the bottled waters (even in the airport terminal it's incredibly warm and humid -- we think the air conditioning is shut off due to the nearby renovations) and head back to our waiting area.
We spend the next hour or so reading books, playing Angry Birds and Plants Vs. Zombies and Words With Friends, drinking water, and taking pictures of the restroom signs that have Aloha wear on the silhouettes.
Soon enough, though, our plane is ready for boarding; so we gather our things, head to the front of the line (yay for first class tickets!), and board the plane for our flight home.
We spend the next several hours watching movies of questionable quality (The Expendables and Battlefield L.A.) and enjoying food of much better quality (I have a gourmet cheese selection; grilled salmon with miso cream sauce, asparagus, and mashed potatoes; and Sichuan-style eggplant with red peppers and brown rice. Lucie has Asian chicken salad; hoisin barbecue ribs, steamed rice, and mixed veggies; and the Sichuan eggplant. My dessert is a Kona coffee ice cream bombe glacée, with whipped cream and fresh raspberries.)
We land at Oakland airport late at night, and have only a short wait before we're picked up by Dean -- no stretch limo on the ride home, but the town car is just fine with us. We run into a huge amount of traffic on the way home, since apparently they're doing construction on I-880 about a mile or so before our exit. No worries -- I just direct Dean back to our place using city streets, and we arrive back home safe and sound (if more than a little sad we're no longer in Hawai'i.)
So our third trip to Hawai'i has come and gone; we've celebrated our tenth anniversary; had our luggage searched once again by the TSA; and I gained a little over ten pounds (mostly through alcohol and POG consumption.)
I'm also considering starting a new blog: "720 Days in San Jose", counting down the days until our next trip.
"Day 720: counted down the hours until Day 719..."
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Hawa1'1, Day 10: "Déjà Brew, Again (Or: a ThreePeet's)"
Dawn breaks on our last full day in Hawai'i, but we're still sleeping. Later that morning breaks, and we wake up, open the sliding doors, and see our first cruise ship on the Big Island. Maui has Kahului Harbor right near the airport, so you get off the airplane and there's a big honkin' cruise ship parked in your face; the Big Island, on the other hand, makes the passengers shuttle back and forth from where the ship is anchored in the bay to the small dock next to the wa'a launch. The Big Island's all supercool that way. You gotta work for the Kona, baby.
Speaking of which, we had three different plans for today: drive down to Volcanos National Park and say hello to Kilauea; drive up to Hawi in the northern tip of the island and say hello to the statue of King Kamehameha; or go wacky crazy and visit more coffee plantations. We did Volcanos on our previous two trips, and while it's incredibly cool going there and knowing you're watching an island actually growing, we're okay with skipping that this time around. We still haven't been to Hawi, but that's kind of an all-day thing and we have tickets to tonight's luau, and we don't want to have to rush if we don't want to (Big Island and all, you know.) So we decide to hit more coffee plantations -- we go through our old Coffee Tour map (which, yes, I have saved in my iBooks library on my iPad), pick a few new farms to try out as well as a couple of old ones we want to revisit, plan the best route (hint: it rhymes with "drive down the Obamalahoa Highway"), and head out.
Our first stop is UCC again... not to buy more coffee or to roast more ourselves -- though we wouldn't be adverse to that -- but because we tried a couple of those coffee flavored Pretz biscuit sticks and need more. Pocky Pocky Pocky. The guy behind the counter remembers us; I'm guessing because Lucie's clothes are so recognizable. We chat for a bit, buy a couple boxes of Pretz, and continue on our way.
Our next stop is in Holualoa, at Blue Sky. Unfortunately, they don't have any more of that nifty liliko'i and chili jelly I got last time, but they still have some good coffee, CDs of Kona-related Hawaiian music produced by the Kona Coffee Cultural Festival with all proceeds benefiting the Coffee Festival's "Aloha Makahiki Concert", and some other yummy foodstuffs. We fill a bag or two with purchases and chat for a few minutes with the proprietors, then continue on our way.
We make a left onto Old Poi Factory Road and drive up a steep, sort of paved, unstriped, one and a half lane road until we get to Buddha's Cup. We had a fun visit on our first trip but weren't able to make it last time, and wanted to see how Pancho, the cute dog we met, is doing. We don't actually see Pancho, but instead we meet Manny, one of the cohabitants of the residence-turned-coffee farm, and he is flat-out, full-on, 100% entirely totally and completely AWESOME. All caps and boldface. He greets us with an exuberant full-body hug and huge smile; talks nonstop about his love of growing coffee, drinking coffee, living in Hawai'i, and enjoyment of participating in the coffee competitions (for which Buddha's Cup won 1st place in 2010, at the Gevalia Cupping Contest); he gives us a free pound of his own "Manny's Brew" coffee, as well as a Buddha's Cup burlap tote bag; he's so stoked that people like us love coffee so much we're willing to drive all the way up the mountain to visit the farm that he even offers to house us on our next trip to the island. We mention meeting Pancho last trip and he gives a deep laugh. "Oh, Pancho... that guy is great! He loves hanging out with me when I'm working outside, and was teasing me through the window just a while ago!"
He's by far one of the most warm and welcoming people we've met in Hawai'i, which really is saying something. However, it's getting on in the day and we've got another couple of coffee farms to visit, so we regretfully say our farewells (or our "aloha a hui hou"s), and leave with our Buddha's Cup and Manny's Brew coffees stowed snugly in our Buddha's Cup tote bag.
About halfway down Old Poi Factory Road back toward the Mamalahoa Highway, we make our next stop at Heavenly Hawaiian Farms. We're a little distressed when they tell us that they brought in some coffee breeds from Costa Rica a while back to mix with the Kona, and which have since cross pollinated and done who knows what to the coffee purity on adjacent farms ("They taste exactly the same now!" the wife says happily) and we're also a bit distressed when they come across as a little bigoted ("we got checked by ICE a couple of years ago, and lost all of the Mexicans working for us, since they were all illegals except for the foreman. We have Filipinos now."). However, they are polite and nice to us during our visit, and their coffee is pretty darn tasty, so we buy some of the arabica Kona coffee they sell and head back down the coffee belt road.
We head through Captain Cook, past Onouli Road, past Keopuka Mauka Road, past Hale Ke Eke E Place, past Pele Lane, past Kalamalani Place, through Kealakekua, past Telephone Exchange Road, past Lau Wiliwili Nukunuku Oi'oi Drive, past Napo'opo'o Road, past Filipino Clubhouse Road, all the way to Lion's Gate Farms. And yes, one of those street names is made up. No, I'm not telling.
Anyway, I take a quick picture or two at Lion's Gate of the coffee trees -- not only because they've got a lot of ripe red coffee cherries everywhere whereas most places are just starting to ripen, but because they also have a big prickly pear cactus growing in the midst of the trees, and it's kind of a cool pairing of red hues -- and we're welcomed into the foyer of the main house by the nice lady there. Her daughter's the business person, she tells us, and she's just filling in while she's away, but she's polite and informative and friendly (like just about everyone we've met.). She talks about their macadamia nut trees and how the nuts are harvested and aged to detach from the shell, and how nobody sells them raw because the oils go rancid too quickly to have a viable shelf life... and then she gives the opportunity to crack open a macadamia nut and try one raw.
The nut needs a specialized machine to open, since mac nuts have the hardest shells of any nut on earth -- you could use a hammer, but that usually results in macadamia nut paste instead of a whole nut. Mac nuts also have the highest amount of monounsaturated fat of any nut, so the raw nut meat is incredibly creamy in texture. Roasted mac nuts are tasty and all -- salted, honey roasted, chocolate coated, flavored, with cayenne, whatever -- but eating the nuts raw is an entirely new experience. They'll even sell them raw by special request, which Lucie and I agree we may need to do once we're back in California. And kudos to you if you didn't giggle at all during that last paragraph; way to go.
We buy a few bags of chocolate covered coffee beans, powdered sugar coated toffee mac nuts, coffee, and some macadamia nut oil for cooking, then head on back toward Kailua. It's just after lunchtime, so we stop off in Kealakekua at a place we've driven past several times now, Rebel Kitchen, for a bite to eat.
The owners are Bay Area transplants who moved out here earlier this year to pursue their dreams of opening a restaurant, against people's advice (hence the name)... And if that dream includes making some really groovy food, their dream is coming true. Their jerk chicken sandwich is a little messy because of the jerk sauce runoff, but the flavor is outstanding -- sweet, tangy, and with just a tiny bite of heat, all the while keeping the chicken moist and tender. The bun is soft and freshly baked, as are their desserts (we split a banana oatmeal dark chocolate loaf, a chocolate lover's cupcake, and a slice of outstanding liliko'i cheesecake with what tastes like a macadamia nut crust.) As with most meals, we stick with cold bottled water and I supplement with a can of POG. I'm mildly entertained by the fact that while most of the water we've had so far has been Hawaiian brands, our entrepreneurs from San Francisco are offering Crystal Geyser water, bottled in California and shipped to Hawai'i... maybe not the most ecologically friendly choice but it makes me chuckle a little.
After lunch, we return to our hotel and relax for an hour or two before getting gussied up in our finest casual wear to head downstairs to the Royal Kona's luau. I have linen pants and the new Hawaiian shirt we bought in Hilo, and I also bought a new pair of sunglasses in the hotel's gift shop a few days ago that matches my shirt almost perfectly (which is pure happy coincidence, since I hadn't bought the shirt at the time.). In the elevator on the way down, a fellow passenger comments on the brightness of my shirt ("I probably wouldn't wear that, and I'm from here!") before pausing briefly and asking, "Is that a Mamo?" I glance down at my shirt and its handwritten "Mamo" appearing here and there, and say, "It sure is.". He nods, more impressed than before, and exits the elevator ahead of us.
As soon as he's out of eyesight, both Lucie and I whip out our iPhones and Google "Mamo Hawaiian shirt" -- oh, hey; looks like I managed to buy designer wear created by Hawaii's most famous clothing designer. I had no idea -- I was just buying something that actually fit for once. Groovy.
Feeling more stylish than usual, we head into the luau, have our picture taken for later purchase, grab some watered down mai tais, and find some seats that aren't located beneath any palm trees. We end up sitting next to a couple from England on their honeymoon; we chat a bit as the evening progresses, but the new bride seems somehow impervious to my attempts to sell her on drinking coffee instead of tea.
The food is very much the same as when we attended the luau on our first visit; the teriyaki and short ribs are nicely saucy; the kahlua pig is always tasty, and the poi still tastes like Elmer's paste. However, we're here for our now-traditional experience as much as the food... the dances and commentary are somewhat familiar (not that if you've seen one luau you've seen them all; it's just that we've actually seen this luau once already), and I give Lucie a laugh at the start of dinner when everyone at the tables jumps up and rushes the imu to see the unearthing of the kahlua pig, and I calmly demur with "this isn't my first luau.". Trust me, when said in that context and meant to be synonymous with "this ain't my first rodeo", it is HYSTERICAL.
At the end of the night, we buy the luau picture to add to our collection, head back to our hotel room, and sadly begin packing our coffee, souvenirs, and clothes for the flight home tomorrow.
Leaving Hawai'i sucks.
.
Speaking of which, we had three different plans for today: drive down to Volcanos National Park and say hello to Kilauea; drive up to Hawi in the northern tip of the island and say hello to the statue of King Kamehameha; or go wacky crazy and visit more coffee plantations. We did Volcanos on our previous two trips, and while it's incredibly cool going there and knowing you're watching an island actually growing, we're okay with skipping that this time around. We still haven't been to Hawi, but that's kind of an all-day thing and we have tickets to tonight's luau, and we don't want to have to rush if we don't want to (Big Island and all, you know.) So we decide to hit more coffee plantations -- we go through our old Coffee Tour map (which, yes, I have saved in my iBooks library on my iPad), pick a few new farms to try out as well as a couple of old ones we want to revisit, plan the best route (hint: it rhymes with "drive down the Obamalahoa Highway"), and head out.
Our first stop is UCC again... not to buy more coffee or to roast more ourselves -- though we wouldn't be adverse to that -- but because we tried a couple of those coffee flavored Pretz biscuit sticks and need more. Pocky Pocky Pocky. The guy behind the counter remembers us; I'm guessing because Lucie's clothes are so recognizable. We chat for a bit, buy a couple boxes of Pretz, and continue on our way.
Our next stop is in Holualoa, at Blue Sky. Unfortunately, they don't have any more of that nifty liliko'i and chili jelly I got last time, but they still have some good coffee, CDs of Kona-related Hawaiian music produced by the Kona Coffee Cultural Festival with all proceeds benefiting the Coffee Festival's "Aloha Makahiki Concert", and some other yummy foodstuffs. We fill a bag or two with purchases and chat for a few minutes with the proprietors, then continue on our way.
We make a left onto Old Poi Factory Road and drive up a steep, sort of paved, unstriped, one and a half lane road until we get to Buddha's Cup. We had a fun visit on our first trip but weren't able to make it last time, and wanted to see how Pancho, the cute dog we met, is doing. We don't actually see Pancho, but instead we meet Manny, one of the cohabitants of the residence-turned-coffee farm, and he is flat-out, full-on, 100% entirely totally and completely AWESOME. All caps and boldface. He greets us with an exuberant full-body hug and huge smile; talks nonstop about his love of growing coffee, drinking coffee, living in Hawai'i, and enjoyment of participating in the coffee competitions (for which Buddha's Cup won 1st place in 2010, at the Gevalia Cupping Contest); he gives us a free pound of his own "Manny's Brew" coffee, as well as a Buddha's Cup burlap tote bag; he's so stoked that people like us love coffee so much we're willing to drive all the way up the mountain to visit the farm that he even offers to house us on our next trip to the island. We mention meeting Pancho last trip and he gives a deep laugh. "Oh, Pancho... that guy is great! He loves hanging out with me when I'm working outside, and was teasing me through the window just a while ago!"
He's by far one of the most warm and welcoming people we've met in Hawai'i, which really is saying something. However, it's getting on in the day and we've got another couple of coffee farms to visit, so we regretfully say our farewells (or our "aloha a hui hou"s), and leave with our Buddha's Cup and Manny's Brew coffees stowed snugly in our Buddha's Cup tote bag.
About halfway down Old Poi Factory Road back toward the Mamalahoa Highway, we make our next stop at Heavenly Hawaiian Farms. We're a little distressed when they tell us that they brought in some coffee breeds from Costa Rica a while back to mix with the Kona, and which have since cross pollinated and done who knows what to the coffee purity on adjacent farms ("They taste exactly the same now!" the wife says happily) and we're also a bit distressed when they come across as a little bigoted ("we got checked by ICE a couple of years ago, and lost all of the Mexicans working for us, since they were all illegals except for the foreman. We have Filipinos now."). However, they are polite and nice to us during our visit, and their coffee is pretty darn tasty, so we buy some of the arabica Kona coffee they sell and head back down the coffee belt road.
We head through Captain Cook, past Onouli Road, past Keopuka Mauka Road, past Hale Ke Eke E Place, past Pele Lane, past Kalamalani Place, through Kealakekua, past Telephone Exchange Road, past Lau Wiliwili Nukunuku Oi'oi Drive, past Napo'opo'o Road, past Filipino Clubhouse Road, all the way to Lion's Gate Farms. And yes, one of those street names is made up. No, I'm not telling.
Anyway, I take a quick picture or two at Lion's Gate of the coffee trees -- not only because they've got a lot of ripe red coffee cherries everywhere whereas most places are just starting to ripen, but because they also have a big prickly pear cactus growing in the midst of the trees, and it's kind of a cool pairing of red hues -- and we're welcomed into the foyer of the main house by the nice lady there. Her daughter's the business person, she tells us, and she's just filling in while she's away, but she's polite and informative and friendly (like just about everyone we've met.). She talks about their macadamia nut trees and how the nuts are harvested and aged to detach from the shell, and how nobody sells them raw because the oils go rancid too quickly to have a viable shelf life... and then she gives the opportunity to crack open a macadamia nut and try one raw.The nut needs a specialized machine to open, since mac nuts have the hardest shells of any nut on earth -- you could use a hammer, but that usually results in macadamia nut paste instead of a whole nut. Mac nuts also have the highest amount of monounsaturated fat of any nut, so the raw nut meat is incredibly creamy in texture. Roasted mac nuts are tasty and all -- salted, honey roasted, chocolate coated, flavored, with cayenne, whatever -- but eating the nuts raw is an entirely new experience. They'll even sell them raw by special request, which Lucie and I agree we may need to do once we're back in California. And kudos to you if you didn't giggle at all during that last paragraph; way to go.
We buy a few bags of chocolate covered coffee beans, powdered sugar coated toffee mac nuts, coffee, and some macadamia nut oil for cooking, then head on back toward Kailua. It's just after lunchtime, so we stop off in Kealakekua at a place we've driven past several times now, Rebel Kitchen, for a bite to eat.
The owners are Bay Area transplants who moved out here earlier this year to pursue their dreams of opening a restaurant, against people's advice (hence the name)... And if that dream includes making some really groovy food, their dream is coming true. Their jerk chicken sandwich is a little messy because of the jerk sauce runoff, but the flavor is outstanding -- sweet, tangy, and with just a tiny bite of heat, all the while keeping the chicken moist and tender. The bun is soft and freshly baked, as are their desserts (we split a banana oatmeal dark chocolate loaf, a chocolate lover's cupcake, and a slice of outstanding liliko'i cheesecake with what tastes like a macadamia nut crust.) As with most meals, we stick with cold bottled water and I supplement with a can of POG. I'm mildly entertained by the fact that while most of the water we've had so far has been Hawaiian brands, our entrepreneurs from San Francisco are offering Crystal Geyser water, bottled in California and shipped to Hawai'i... maybe not the most ecologically friendly choice but it makes me chuckle a little.After lunch, we return to our hotel and relax for an hour or two before getting gussied up in our finest casual wear to head downstairs to the Royal Kona's luau. I have linen pants and the new Hawaiian shirt we bought in Hilo, and I also bought a new pair of sunglasses in the hotel's gift shop a few days ago that matches my shirt almost perfectly (which is pure happy coincidence, since I hadn't bought the shirt at the time.). In the elevator on the way down, a fellow passenger comments on the brightness of my shirt ("I probably wouldn't wear that, and I'm from here!") before pausing briefly and asking, "Is that a Mamo?" I glance down at my shirt and its handwritten "Mamo" appearing here and there, and say, "It sure is.". He nods, more impressed than before, and exits the elevator ahead of us.
As soon as he's out of eyesight, both Lucie and I whip out our iPhones and Google "Mamo Hawaiian shirt" -- oh, hey; looks like I managed to buy designer wear created by Hawaii's most famous clothing designer. I had no idea -- I was just buying something that actually fit for once. Groovy.
Feeling more stylish than usual, we head into the luau, have our picture taken for later purchase, grab some watered down mai tais, and find some seats that aren't located beneath any palm trees. We end up sitting next to a couple from England on their honeymoon; we chat a bit as the evening progresses, but the new bride seems somehow impervious to my attempts to sell her on drinking coffee instead of tea.
At the end of the night, we buy the luau picture to add to our collection, head back to our hotel room, and sadly begin packing our coffee, souvenirs, and clothes for the flight home tomorrow.
Leaving Hawai'i sucks.
.
Hawa1'1, Day 9: "Our 4th Full Day on the Big Island, No Les."
So when we were first planning for our trip, we had originally picked today to head back out to Waipio Valley and take another ATV tour with Les and Renee, but we had cancelled for two reasons: first, Renee no longer works for the company so it would be Les and some other person with whom we haven't bonded; and secondly, they had raised their price by over 20% and while we certainly appreciate Waipio and don't mind supporting small businesses, that's a lot of bucks to throw down on an activity that last time we participated tried to kill me.
So this time around, we won't be taking a day to visit my brother from another mother; my chum from a different mum; my mate from a different state; my pally in a deeper valley; my hombre with a different last nombre.. or, as they say in Hawai'i, "my 'ohana from a different mama."
Instead, we've made plans with the Kona Boys for a chartered tour on a wa'a, or outrigger canoe. We're a little unsure of going out because of the high surf -- we see some waves spilling over the retaining wall and flowing onto the street along Ai'i Drive as we drive to the dock -- and because so far this trip, Hawai'i has not yet tried to kill me. First trip, coconut; second trip, ATV mishap... third trip, wa'a?
What actually seals it for me, though, is when I try to fit into the canoe and don't quite fit. I was a bit worried about this happening; I could probably make it work okay for a while, but I'm on vacation and don't feel any real urge to pay to be uncomfortable for an extended amount of time, in the ocean during high surf conditions. We regretfully cancel our appointment, and swear to ourselves that on our next visit here, we'll be back. The ocean should behave itself better next trip, and in two years' time I will be smaller and will fit more comfortably.
We do make our next scheduled appointment, however, back at Mountain Thunder for the roastmaster tour we arranged several days ago. We make the drive up the mountain to the plantation and meet with Brooke, our host for the next hour; she walks us over to the smaller sibling of their main Diedrich roaster, located in a small room next to their gift shop. I am handed a huge bucket with raw coffee beans, and pour them into the roasting drum.
As the beans slowly roast and turn from a pale pistachio green to their final milk chocolate brown, Brooke chats with us about her training as Mountain Thunder's current go-to roast master, our experiences with other coffee plantations, living on the Big Island, and other topics. She compliments us on the picture we chose to use as the coffee labels and the name of our roast (it's the shot of us at the summit of Haleakalā, with me in my pastel tie dye and both of us wearing sunglasses, and the name we chose is "Ray & Lucie's Bright & Early Roast") and says she's never done the sunrise before but wants to; we counter with us never having lived in Hawai'i and grown coffee but wanting to.
Soon enough, the coffee is roasted to the proper temperature and I get to pour out the beans into the cooling tray; they're a perfect medium roast, milk chocolate in color and the oils just barely coming to the surface. I pour them back into the huge bucket (it smells fantastic!) and we make our way to the packaging area, where I measure them out into the proper amounts, attach the labels, and seal the bags. Mountain Thunder coffee is nitrogen flushed to provide a much longer shelf life than most other coffees that just vacuum seal their bags, but it's not really necessary in this instance -- it'll be gone well before it ever has the chance of spoiling.
After the coffee roasting, we head back to the hotel room to lighten up our luggage for the flight home. We ship a large box that is later referred to as a "baby elephant" of coffee, cookies, macadamia nuts, Hawaiian print fabric, and cold weather clothing (worn only for the frigid pre-dawn conditions on Haleakalā) back to California, then head out to our lunch destination, Da Poke Shack.
We've heard good things about this place when we were researching places to eat on vacation, but the last few times we've driven past it's been closed. Today, however, it's open for business, and we head in to try out their goods. I try "Pele's Kiss", a spicy ahi with a light mayo sauce, with seaweed salad and rice with furikake sprinkled on top; Lucie goes for the sesame ahi poke, with edamame and plain rice. Both are fantastic -- fresh, light, flavorful, and all-around serious ono kine grinds. Before we leave, I also grab a half pound to go of their Dynamite poke, a spicy ahi with creamy avocado and tobiko. Like the other flavors we tried, and no doubt like everything else they serve, it does not disappoint.
We spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing on the lanai of our hotel room, enjoying the sounds of the ocean, the view of the still-high surf frothing as it spills over the rocks below, the taste of some outstanding poke, and the always stunning Hawaiian sunset. After we get in a couple of hours of relaxation and tanning, we head downstairs for dinner and drinks at Don's.
My dinner selection is a steak Caesar salad paired with crab and scallop chowder -- they do their best to grill the steak Pittsburg rare, but can't quite do so; however, it's still nicely rare, with a good char from the fire. The chowder is thick and heavy on the cream, as all good chowders should be. My choice for alcohol is a classic piña colada and their "tiki sampler", a half-size foursome of a mai tai, a Pele's volcanic kiss mai tai (with amaretto and 151 rum), a topless mai tai (with clear coconut and mango rums instead of dark rum), and a green flash. Lucie opts for their basic Angus burger with sweet potato fries, and accompanies that with a green flash and a mango daiquiri.
We spend another hour or so sitting in those chairs, looking at the ocean and the heavy rains that have been showing up most nights, and enjoying our time together on the island. After a while, though, it's time to retire for the evening. We head back upstairs (and if Lucie's a little steadier on her feet than I am after my mai tai bonanza, I'll never say it out loud), and fall into a deep, happy sleep.
.
So this time around, we won't be taking a day to visit my brother from another mother; my chum from a different mum; my mate from a different state; my pally in a deeper valley; my hombre with a different last nombre.. or, as they say in Hawai'i, "my 'ohana from a different mama."
Instead, we've made plans with the Kona Boys for a chartered tour on a wa'a, or outrigger canoe. We're a little unsure of going out because of the high surf -- we see some waves spilling over the retaining wall and flowing onto the street along Ai'i Drive as we drive to the dock -- and because so far this trip, Hawai'i has not yet tried to kill me. First trip, coconut; second trip, ATV mishap... third trip, wa'a?
What actually seals it for me, though, is when I try to fit into the canoe and don't quite fit. I was a bit worried about this happening; I could probably make it work okay for a while, but I'm on vacation and don't feel any real urge to pay to be uncomfortable for an extended amount of time, in the ocean during high surf conditions. We regretfully cancel our appointment, and swear to ourselves that on our next visit here, we'll be back. The ocean should behave itself better next trip, and in two years' time I will be smaller and will fit more comfortably.
As the beans slowly roast and turn from a pale pistachio green to their final milk chocolate brown, Brooke chats with us about her training as Mountain Thunder's current go-to roast master, our experiences with other coffee plantations, living on the Big Island, and other topics. She compliments us on the picture we chose to use as the coffee labels and the name of our roast (it's the shot of us at the summit of Haleakalā, with me in my pastel tie dye and both of us wearing sunglasses, and the name we chose is "Ray & Lucie's Bright & Early Roast") and says she's never done the sunrise before but wants to; we counter with us never having lived in Hawai'i and grown coffee but wanting to.
Soon enough, the coffee is roasted to the proper temperature and I get to pour out the beans into the cooling tray; they're a perfect medium roast, milk chocolate in color and the oils just barely coming to the surface. I pour them back into the huge bucket (it smells fantastic!) and we make our way to the packaging area, where I measure them out into the proper amounts, attach the labels, and seal the bags. Mountain Thunder coffee is nitrogen flushed to provide a much longer shelf life than most other coffees that just vacuum seal their bags, but it's not really necessary in this instance -- it'll be gone well before it ever has the chance of spoiling.
We've heard good things about this place when we were researching places to eat on vacation, but the last few times we've driven past it's been closed. Today, however, it's open for business, and we head in to try out their goods. I try "Pele's Kiss", a spicy ahi with a light mayo sauce, with seaweed salad and rice with furikake sprinkled on top; Lucie goes for the sesame ahi poke, with edamame and plain rice. Both are fantastic -- fresh, light, flavorful, and all-around serious ono kine grinds. Before we leave, I also grab a half pound to go of their Dynamite poke, a spicy ahi with creamy avocado and tobiko. Like the other flavors we tried, and no doubt like everything else they serve, it does not disappoint.
We spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing on the lanai of our hotel room, enjoying the sounds of the ocean, the view of the still-high surf frothing as it spills over the rocks below, the taste of some outstanding poke, and the always stunning Hawaiian sunset. After we get in a couple of hours of relaxation and tanning, we head downstairs for dinner and drinks at Don's.
My dinner selection is a steak Caesar salad paired with crab and scallop chowder -- they do their best to grill the steak Pittsburg rare, but can't quite do so; however, it's still nicely rare, with a good char from the fire. The chowder is thick and heavy on the cream, as all good chowders should be. My choice for alcohol is a classic piña colada and their "tiki sampler", a half-size foursome of a mai tai, a Pele's volcanic kiss mai tai (with amaretto and 151 rum), a topless mai tai (with clear coconut and mango rums instead of dark rum), and a green flash. Lucie opts for their basic Angus burger with sweet potato fries, and accompanies that with a green flash and a mango daiquiri.
We spend another hour or so sitting in those chairs, looking at the ocean and the heavy rains that have been showing up most nights, and enjoying our time together on the island. After a while, though, it's time to retire for the evening. We head back upstairs (and if Lucie's a little steadier on her feet than I am after my mai tai bonanza, I'll never say it out loud), and fall into a deep, happy sleep.
.
Hawa1'1, Day 8: "Google Maps Takes Us to Hilo and Back."
We wake up slowly the next morning with a slight relaxation hangover from the massage. And what better way to get rid of all that excess relaxation than to head over to that bustling metropolis, that overcrowded urban conurbation, that densely peopled concrete jungle that is Hilo (pop. 43,263)?
So we plan our route. Not having learned my lesson from our last trip, I enlist the help of Google Maps on my iPhone, and get directions to the Hawaiian Vanilla Company in Pa'auilo. We'd gone there on our first trip but weren't able to make it last time, so we figure we're due for another visit. Google Maps tells us to take a different route than I remember us taking (up along the Kohala coast before cutting inland to Waimea, while last time we took the Mamalahoa Highway until it hooks right and heads down the Kona Belt, then followed Hawai'i Belt Road -- which, confusingly, is also called the Mamalahoa Highway (guess those Hawaiians like at name as much as I do) -- to Waimea. We ponder this for a moment, then in a fit of insanity I suggest we go ahead and try the Google Maps directions; we do like the Kohala coast's continuous view of the ocean, and either way we get to Waimea, so it's all good.
You do see where this is going, don't you? 'Cuz I sure as heck didn't when this is happening.
The trip up Queen Ka'ahumanu Highway along the Kohala coast is as pleasant and calming as we remember; the ocean is that spectacular pāua shell combination of intense and vibrant blues; the locals' roadside messages created by white rocks arranged in the black lava landscape is still as quaint and cool as I remember (and I'm still tempted to grab some white rocks and make my own message for future travelers, though I don't); and the turnoff for Waimea is right where we remember it from last trip when we drove this route (although last time we continued along the coast, and this time we turn inland.) The weather ranges from partly cloudy to cloudy to slightly drizzly, but never really enough for it to warrant us putting the top up on our car. Before long, we end up in Waimea... we notice sadly that the German restaurant Edelweiss is no longer in business (apparently the owners retired in late 2007), which is a bummer, but we continue on our way, following the INCREDIBLY PRECISE AND ACCURATE directions from Google Maps.
We continue on past Honoka'a, home of Waipio Valley and Les and Renee, and drive just a few miles further to where my iPhone tells me to turn off the highway and head mauka ([mah-oo-kuh], adv.; toward the mountains; inland. Also, "place where haole tourist gets no cellular reception") so we do. The iPhone then tells me to turn from Kalopa road left onto Kalopa road, then right onto Kalopa road then left onto Kalopa road, then to shake my iPhone all about and to do the Kalokey Pokey, then -- aww, CRAP, we're lost again! By the time I'm willing to admit that this looks nothing like what I remember from our last trip here, we're way up in the mountains, a mile or two up a one-and-half lane road, and have driven over several one-lane bridges, built apparently for two-way traffic, and we don't have cell service so we can't verify the directions using a different source. I make a truly frightening eleven-point turn in a "wide" spot of the road, hoping that nobody comes along the road from either direction and slams into us broadside, then we head back makai ([mah-kaee], adv.; toward the ocean; seaward. Also, "get off of our mountain, devil white man") until we find a place where we get a whole one bar of cell service, and I do what I probably should have done in the first place, namely go to the stinkin' Vanilla Company website and get the directions they offer, because the Hawai'i Vanilla Company wants our business, and Google Maps is apparently in cahoots with either Hawai'i or the nēnē, to either kill me or mock me, respectively (yet at the same time without any respect whatsoever.)
Using their friendly and easy-to-follow directions, we get to our destination without incident. In a fruitless attempt to feel less like a complete idiot, I encourage Lucie's impulse buys in the Vanilla Company store, grabbing vanilla-infused soaps and lotions and coffee and tea and home fragrance spray and lip balm and Hummel figurines and everything else they sell. Finally, my ego slightly mollified and the trunk of our Mustang filled, we get back onto the highway and continue on our way to Hilo.
(Incidentally, the directions on Google Maps would have taken us to the vanilla plantation as well, just not by the fastest or most direct, or most paved, route. Hopefully the new mapping app that Apple is rumored to be working on has more features.)
The rest of our trip to Hilo is relatively hassle-free. There are a few lane closures where road crews are reinforcing cliff walls and trying to unbend "danger: falling rocks" signs, but other than that it's smooth sailing.
Once we get to Hilo, our first stop is at the Discount Fabric Warehouse located on this side of the island -- Kona's was closed yesterday so we make up for it here by buying several different colorful prints to have shirts made back in California. Lucie also scores a huge bonus when she snaps up a bolt of garlic print fabric. Awesome.
After I get my cotton on, we decide it's time for lunch, so we head to one of the most famous restaurants in Hilo, Ken's House of Pancakes. It's a little busy, even though we're sort of between breakfast and lunch right now -- apparently, there's always a crowd. We check out the Rock wall (as in, there are a bunch of pictures of actor/wrestler the Rock hanging behind the register; the owner is a relative) and are seated in short order.
This is a polar opposite from Edelweiss; it looks and feels as though it's a diner stuck in the 50's, the waitresses are local aunties who move on Big Island time, and the booths are orange vinyl. But, you don't come here for the ambiance, you come here for the hearty food, the big portions, and the experience. The hearty food in our case is corned beef hash moco for Lucie (eggs and gravy over corned beef hash) and the "Kilauea" for me (a triple stack of huge buttermilk pancakes, with ham and bacon between the pancakes, and fried eggs on top), which is downright delicious when I alternate with the maple and coconut syrups they offer. Lucie also orders me a Vietnamese iced coffee, which is passable, and we order dessert, which is awesome -- my coconut cream pie is smooth and sweet and creamy, and Lucie's pineapple upside down cake is intensely flavored, still steaming hot when it gets to the table, and gone in seconds. Ken's (referred to as "K-HOP" buy the locals) has been voted best breakfast on the island for 14 years, and we agree with that assessment.
After lunch, we head on over to Hilo Hattie's. Sure there's a Hilo Hattie's in Kailua-Kona, but this is Hilo Hattie's... you wouldn't go to an Outback Steakhouse anywhere other than in Australia, would you? Or shop at a Tommy Bahama's anywhere other than Nassau?
Okay, yeah, well sure -- so would I. But it's right there, on the way to the Mauna Loa macadamia nut factory, so we might as well. The nice lady behind the counter as we come in asks us if we're locals -- and honestly, that seems to be happening to us more often this trip than before -- and we regretfully say no. We poke around, I try on some clothes (which I've never bothered to try and do before, since they don't have my size), and I actually find an amazingly bright floral print shirt that fits! Woo-hoo! We also find some jams and macadamia nuts and candy and other stuff, which is pretty much one size fits all, so we load up on those as well.
After that, we head to the Hershey's Mauna Loa Macadamia Nut Corporation Visitor Center, formerly just the Mauna Loa Macadamia Nut Factory but now apparently yet another cog in the giant foodstuff machinery of Hershey's. We buy some mac nuts, and some mac nuts, and then some mac nuts, and a bottle of water along with some mac nuts (seriously, what else would you buy here?), then head back toward Kailua. We had also wanted to stop by Big Island Candies but it's too close to closing time, so a tour of their facility will have to wait for another day, perhaps one where we don't waste a lot of time trying to get unlost after listening to what Google tells us to do.
We stop in Honoka'a, at Tex Drive-In -- they're rated pretty high in Yelp for their malasadas, and it's about dinner time, so we figure we might as well take advantage of the situation. Unfortunately, we didn't read through all of the reviews, or we'd have seen several comments about the rest of their food being somewhat hit or miss, and it is... the filled malasadas we buy (pineapple for Lucie, mango for me) really are awesome, but the saimin Lucie has is a bit too strong on the fish sauce and the variant on Hawaiian pizza I get (pineapple and what they call kalhua pork) is overly greasy and barely passable; but the bento box of teriyaki, SPAM, Portuguese sausage, fried chicken wings, and a krab omelet over rice is pretty good, and fills us both up decently even if we don't finish our first choices.
We take the inland road back to Kailua -- it's a little windier and wetter, and more hair-raising than the coastal Queen Ka'ahumanu Highway, but I kind of missed driving this route on the way out -- and make our way back to our hotel. We head upstairs and listen to the ocean as we relax in our room. The ocean is a bit louder than usual, as the surf is still high (Lucie says there's a high surf warning for tomorrow, but it seems to be arriving earlier than expected), but it's still some of the best background noise one can ask for.
We go to bed for the night, with the ocean still barely audible behind the closed doors and the sound of the AC.
.
So we plan our route. Not having learned my lesson from our last trip, I enlist the help of Google Maps on my iPhone, and get directions to the Hawaiian Vanilla Company in Pa'auilo. We'd gone there on our first trip but weren't able to make it last time, so we figure we're due for another visit. Google Maps tells us to take a different route than I remember us taking (up along the Kohala coast before cutting inland to Waimea, while last time we took the Mamalahoa Highway until it hooks right and heads down the Kona Belt, then followed Hawai'i Belt Road -- which, confusingly, is also called the Mamalahoa Highway (guess those Hawaiians like at name as much as I do) -- to Waimea. We ponder this for a moment, then in a fit of insanity I suggest we go ahead and try the Google Maps directions; we do like the Kohala coast's continuous view of the ocean, and either way we get to Waimea, so it's all good.
You do see where this is going, don't you? 'Cuz I sure as heck didn't when this is happening.
The trip up Queen Ka'ahumanu Highway along the Kohala coast is as pleasant and calming as we remember; the ocean is that spectacular pāua shell combination of intense and vibrant blues; the locals' roadside messages created by white rocks arranged in the black lava landscape is still as quaint and cool as I remember (and I'm still tempted to grab some white rocks and make my own message for future travelers, though I don't); and the turnoff for Waimea is right where we remember it from last trip when we drove this route (although last time we continued along the coast, and this time we turn inland.) The weather ranges from partly cloudy to cloudy to slightly drizzly, but never really enough for it to warrant us putting the top up on our car. Before long, we end up in Waimea... we notice sadly that the German restaurant Edelweiss is no longer in business (apparently the owners retired in late 2007), which is a bummer, but we continue on our way, following the INCREDIBLY PRECISE AND ACCURATE directions from Google Maps.
We continue on past Honoka'a, home of Waipio Valley and Les and Renee, and drive just a few miles further to where my iPhone tells me to turn off the highway and head mauka ([mah-oo-kuh], adv.; toward the mountains; inland. Also, "place where haole tourist gets no cellular reception") so we do. The iPhone then tells me to turn from Kalopa road left onto Kalopa road, then right onto Kalopa road then left onto Kalopa road, then to shake my iPhone all about and to do the Kalokey Pokey, then -- aww, CRAP, we're lost again! By the time I'm willing to admit that this looks nothing like what I remember from our last trip here, we're way up in the mountains, a mile or two up a one-and-half lane road, and have driven over several one-lane bridges, built apparently for two-way traffic, and we don't have cell service so we can't verify the directions using a different source. I make a truly frightening eleven-point turn in a "wide" spot of the road, hoping that nobody comes along the road from either direction and slams into us broadside, then we head back makai ([mah-kaee], adv.; toward the ocean; seaward. Also, "get off of our mountain, devil white man") until we find a place where we get a whole one bar of cell service, and I do what I probably should have done in the first place, namely go to the stinkin' Vanilla Company website and get the directions they offer, because the Hawai'i Vanilla Company wants our business, and Google Maps is apparently in cahoots with either Hawai'i or the nēnē, to either kill me or mock me, respectively (yet at the same time without any respect whatsoever.)
Using their friendly and easy-to-follow directions, we get to our destination without incident. In a fruitless attempt to feel less like a complete idiot, I encourage Lucie's impulse buys in the Vanilla Company store, grabbing vanilla-infused soaps and lotions and coffee and tea and home fragrance spray and lip balm and Hummel figurines and everything else they sell. Finally, my ego slightly mollified and the trunk of our Mustang filled, we get back onto the highway and continue on our way to Hilo.
(Incidentally, the directions on Google Maps would have taken us to the vanilla plantation as well, just not by the fastest or most direct, or most paved, route. Hopefully the new mapping app that Apple is rumored to be working on has more features.)
The rest of our trip to Hilo is relatively hassle-free. There are a few lane closures where road crews are reinforcing cliff walls and trying to unbend "danger: falling rocks" signs, but other than that it's smooth sailing.
Once we get to Hilo, our first stop is at the Discount Fabric Warehouse located on this side of the island -- Kona's was closed yesterday so we make up for it here by buying several different colorful prints to have shirts made back in California. Lucie also scores a huge bonus when she snaps up a bolt of garlic print fabric. Awesome.
This is a polar opposite from Edelweiss; it looks and feels as though it's a diner stuck in the 50's, the waitresses are local aunties who move on Big Island time, and the booths are orange vinyl. But, you don't come here for the ambiance, you come here for the hearty food, the big portions, and the experience. The hearty food in our case is corned beef hash moco for Lucie (eggs and gravy over corned beef hash) and the "Kilauea" for me (a triple stack of huge buttermilk pancakes, with ham and bacon between the pancakes, and fried eggs on top), which is downright delicious when I alternate with the maple and coconut syrups they offer. Lucie also orders me a Vietnamese iced coffee, which is passable, and we order dessert, which is awesome -- my coconut cream pie is smooth and sweet and creamy, and Lucie's pineapple upside down cake is intensely flavored, still steaming hot when it gets to the table, and gone in seconds. Ken's (referred to as "K-HOP" buy the locals) has been voted best breakfast on the island for 14 years, and we agree with that assessment.
After lunch, we head on over to Hilo Hattie's. Sure there's a Hilo Hattie's in Kailua-Kona, but this is Hilo Hattie's... you wouldn't go to an Outback Steakhouse anywhere other than in Australia, would you? Or shop at a Tommy Bahama's anywhere other than Nassau?
Okay, yeah, well sure -- so would I. But it's right there, on the way to the Mauna Loa macadamia nut factory, so we might as well. The nice lady behind the counter as we come in asks us if we're locals -- and honestly, that seems to be happening to us more often this trip than before -- and we regretfully say no. We poke around, I try on some clothes (which I've never bothered to try and do before, since they don't have my size), and I actually find an amazingly bright floral print shirt that fits! Woo-hoo! We also find some jams and macadamia nuts and candy and other stuff, which is pretty much one size fits all, so we load up on those as well.
After that, we head to the Hershey's Mauna Loa Macadamia Nut Corporation Visitor Center, formerly just the Mauna Loa Macadamia Nut Factory but now apparently yet another cog in the giant foodstuff machinery of Hershey's. We buy some mac nuts, and some mac nuts, and then some mac nuts, and a bottle of water along with some mac nuts (seriously, what else would you buy here?), then head back toward Kailua. We had also wanted to stop by Big Island Candies but it's too close to closing time, so a tour of their facility will have to wait for another day, perhaps one where we don't waste a lot of time trying to get unlost after listening to what Google tells us to do.
We stop in Honoka'a, at Tex Drive-In -- they're rated pretty high in Yelp for their malasadas, and it's about dinner time, so we figure we might as well take advantage of the situation. Unfortunately, we didn't read through all of the reviews, or we'd have seen several comments about the rest of their food being somewhat hit or miss, and it is... the filled malasadas we buy (pineapple for Lucie, mango for me) really are awesome, but the saimin Lucie has is a bit too strong on the fish sauce and the variant on Hawaiian pizza I get (pineapple and what they call kalhua pork) is overly greasy and barely passable; but the bento box of teriyaki, SPAM, Portuguese sausage, fried chicken wings, and a krab omelet over rice is pretty good, and fills us both up decently even if we don't finish our first choices.
We take the inland road back to Kailua -- it's a little windier and wetter, and more hair-raising than the coastal Queen Ka'ahumanu Highway, but I kind of missed driving this route on the way out -- and make our way back to our hotel. We head upstairs and listen to the ocean as we relax in our room. The ocean is a bit louder than usual, as the surf is still high (Lucie says there's a high surf warning for tomorrow, but it seems to be arriving earlier than expected), but it's still some of the best background noise one can ask for.
We go to bed for the night, with the ocean still barely audible behind the closed doors and the sound of the AC.
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