A taste of the tropics A taste of the tropics (February 11, 2005)

Hukilau excels at appetizers and ambience

By Mandy Erickson

I headed out to meet some friends at Hukilau on a night when wiser people were dining at home. Rain was pelting my windshield, the streets were flooded and I shivered under layers of clothes.

But as soon as I draped my coat over one of Hukilau's floral-print chairs, the raging storm faded from my mind. Papaya and guava-colored walls, tropical bouquets and Hawaiian music so effectively evoked the South Pacific -- without being kitschy -- I could easily pretend I was in the islands, if just for the evening.

Hukilau, a newcomer in the Bay Area's Hawaiian restaurant craze, is as much a nightclub as an eatery. A bar with a faux thatch roof beckons from the back of the restaurant, and waiters serve up drinks with names like wicked wahine and pineapple head.

"Hukilau" in Hawaiian refers to a party held after a successful catch at sea, so the five-month-old restaurant, naturally, is throwing an opening bash. On Saturday, live bands including One Groove and Patrick Landeza will perform from 3 p.m. to midnight, and the restaurant will offer food and drink specials.

If you can't make the party, no worries: Hukilau features live bands every Friday and Saturday night. Uncle Shaka played that rain-drenched evening, strumming traditional Hawaiian tunes and rock music on an electric ukulele. A wahine (young woman) in a slinky red dress danced the hula, as did family members of the musicians, who swayed expertly in jeans and high-heeled boots.

We watched this scene only after leaving our seats and poking our heads around a corner. Hukilau is divided into two roughly equal areas: the tiki room, which has a view of the band; and the rest of the restaurant -- including the bar -- which doesn't. Our 7 p.m. arrival proved to be too late for a table in the tiki room.

The design is unfortunate, as Hukilau Palo Alto (its siblings are in San Francisco and San Jose) succeeds most as a nightclub. The best eating, in fact, was found in the appetizers. The ahi poke ($9), cubes of raw tuna tossed in sesame oil, soy sauce, green onions and crunchy seaweed, was excellent. The salty, succulent fish perfectly complemented the crunch of onions and seaweed. The edamame ($5) were warm, al dente and coated in just the right amount of coarse salt, and the kalua pork quesadilla ($7.50) was a successful marriage of smoky pork and mild cheese.

As a place to enjoy a meal, Hukilau varies from so-so to quite good -- sometimes on the same plate. A dinner of broiled mahi mahi ($9.50) featured three pieces of the white-fleshed dolphinfish, two of which were tough and slightly burnt, while the third was tender and flaky. Sprinkled with black pepper and eaten with the accompanying mango salsa, that third piece was piquant.

The teriyaki short ribs ($10), happily, were consistently good. Seared on the outside so they were still pink in the middle, the ribs were terrifically tender and had just enough teriyaki to add a kick without being overly sweet. But all three pieces of the aloha chicken adobo ($8), thighs stewed in a vinegar-soy sauce, were dry and chewy.

The portions of all the dishes were massive, but none so much as the chicken katsu moco loco ($7.75), several filets of chicken thighs breaded in panko (Japanese-style breadcrumbs, which are coarser than regular breadcrumbs) and deep-fried, then topped with two fried eggs and gravy. A friend who's done well for me on many a review could finish only half of it. And it wasn't for lack of interest. The chicken was good -- crisp and hot -- though the gravy was thin and bland.

These meals, like all the entrees, came with two scoops of rice and one of macaroni salad, true to the Hawaiian plate lunch tradition. As if those didn't provide enough carbohydrates, the fish, beef and chicken adobo topped a bed of udon tossed with sesame oil and oyster sauce. Save for bits of carrot in the macaroni salad, the sole source of fruit or vegetables were three small pineapple triangles.

For diners seeking some greenery on their plates, Hukilau makes a wonderful seared ahi poke salad ($9), cubes of warm, rare tuna and grilled onions atop a huge mound of mixed baby lettuces. The lettuce in our salad was fresh, as were the slices of cucumber and tomato -- especially good for January -- that rimmed the plate. The tuna had a pleasing texture that just gave to the bite, and the onions were grilled to that perfect point at which they're sweet and meltingly soft but not burnt.

The one downer was the dressing, which came on the side in a ramekin. We ordered the Hukilau vinaigrette, a hefty amount of olive oil with a bit of vinegar and guava juice. The vinaigrette didn't mix well, so when we tried to toss a small amount on the salad, only oil landed on the leaves. A better choice would have been the Maui onion dressing, which is emulsified and has a pleasant, mild onion taste.

Hawaiian food is a fusion of the cultures that have settled on the islands: Filipino, Japanese, Chinese, Portuguese, Native Hawaiian. Hukilau honors this tradition, being as it is in the Bay Area, with a Hawaiian burrito ($7.50) of fried rice, kalua pork and spicy Portuguese sausage. The slow-cooked kalua pork, similar to carnitas, works for a burrito. But excessive fried rice made for a mass of bland white starch, and I missed the texture of beans.

The servers at Hukilau, dressed in Hawaiian shirts and trimmed with flowers in their hair, were friendly and attentive, and the food arrived promptly on wooden plates and bowls. But a house salad we ordered never appeared, and both times I visited, no one cleaned the tabletop. I swept off the food scraps myself, not wanting to plant an elbow in a glob of macaroni salad while waiting for dessert.

Regarding that final course, try to save some room for the Big Island Candies brownie ($6.50). The Hawaiian confectioner creates the intensely chocolate brownies exclusively for Hukilau, which then microwaves them before adding a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a pile of whipped cream. The heat softens the chocolate covering, turning it into a kind of frosting, and melts the ice cream, resulting in a gooey, delicious mess of vanilla, dark chocolate and cream. Order one -- it will feed the whole table.

Dining Notes

Hukilau 642 Ramona St. in Palo Alto 329-9533
Hours: Tuesday through Thursday 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. and 5 p.m. to midnight; Friday and Saturday 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. and 5 p.m. to 2 a.m.
Reservations y (except Friday and Saturday evenings) Credit Cards y Valet Parking n Alcohol y Takeout y Highchairs y Catering y Banquet n Outdoor seating y Noise level - moderate Bathroom cleanliness - good

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