Izakaya Tairyo / If you’ve driven down Piikoi recently, you’ve no doubt noticed a giant red Japanese koi painted on a roof and building façade–calling attention to one of Honolulu’s newest restaurants, perhaps the splashiest. Izakaya Tairyo is like no other izakaya in town: the aesthetic is American crab shack meets Japanese folk and graphic art. Inside, it’s bright with naked bulbs and Japanese lanterns, more like a raucous bon dance than the dark-hued, austere izakayas in Honolulu. “Irasshai!” reverberates from every corner of the room as you walk in. Unfinished wooden beams, fish nets and traps break up the long space. Chairs that are simply cushions tied onto crates add to the carefully calculated rustic charm of the place. It’s a theme restaurant–like a Disneyland eatery, or a Bobby McGee’s–where the motif is fish shack, down to the servers who dress in loose fishermen shirts, baggy short pants and zori (Japanese-style flip flops). Really, it’d be kitschy if it weren’t so clever and, well, fun.

Recent nights find Tairyo packed with mostly Japanese diners in groups of four or more, sharing a pitcher of sake or beer (a Japanese restaurant with pitchers of beer!), taking turns dipping meats and seafood into nabe clay pots and passing around small plates that tend to make up izakaya-fare. In the back is the open kitchen with the grill cook on prominent display, maintaining a three-tier grilling system while never missing an opportunity for a shrill, “Irasshai!” While the dining room exudes chaos, whether real or manufactured (sometimes it’s hard to tell), the kitchen is all order.

“Got a good catch of fishes” promises the menu, hefty and bound like a book. Among the small plates, highlights include a seafood salad with uku–a firm, fatty snapper that’s the white fish of the day–diced small and tossed in a light, creamy dressing, along with shredded crab and ikura on top of greens, shaved raw onion and broccoli in a vinaigrette of hot mustard, onion and shoyu that’s just shy of nose-clearing. There’s also the grilled pork short ribs–boneless, succulent, meaty cuts of pork that taste of a Japanese-style char siu.

Decent is the Tairyo roll, with salmon, tuna, cucumber, avocado, egg and uku and topped with ikura. It’s good, with fresh fish and rice that’s not packed too tight, but it seems a waste of uku, which can’t be discerned amongst all the components. Of note are the rice balls, if only for their sheer size. An entire bowl of rice makes up these musubis, filled with ume, salmon or tuna salad. If you’re worried about walking out hungry, order one of these.

What might have been refreshing interlude–the dipped tomato–falls flat with the tasteless main component. One can’t imagine that this is the sort of vine-ripened tomato that farmers wax poetic about. It arrives prettily enough, a whole peeled tomato (“dipped” perhaps referring to the quick hot bath that loosens the fruit’s skin, making it easier for peeling) under a pile of bonito shavings and in a bowl of chilled dashi. But it’s a still life that’s much more enjoyable to look at than eat.

Generally, dishes at Tairyo are cooked expertly, but lack seasoning–even just a touch more salt would help immensely. For example, the fried-chicken thighs, or karaage, moist under a light, crisp coating, just need salt. The grilled dried mackerel, a whole fish served splayed open, is pleasantly fishy and oily…missing salt, too. More salt means more beer (at least that’s the trick at bars); it’s as if Tairyo is trying to regulate both our sodium and alcohol intake by withholding the salt shaker. And that’s no fun.

Luckily, there’s dessert to make Tairyo fun again. Perhaps we’re too loyal a bunch, almost not ordering the honey toast, unsure if this new upstart could compete with Shokudo’s tower of toast. But this! Slightly smaller than Shokudo’s–though still probably a third of a loaf of Japanese white bread, it’s the softest, lightest white bread you might ever have, almost bordering on sponge cake qualities. It’s brushed with butter and baked in the oven so that the surface develops a browned crust reminiscent of a caramelized crème brulee topping. Drizzled with honey, sprinkled with cinnamon and topped with vanilla ice cream, this ridiculously simple dessert is ethereal in its contrast between crisp and soft, warm and cold.

The execution at Tairyo isn’t as precise as Izakaya Gaku, Imanas Tei and other well-loved izakayas in town, but then, neither are the prices. Whereas meals at the other places run a tab equivalent of a fine-dining restaurant, Tairyo’s is more on par with a sports bar, and almost as casual, down to the service. In the end, the food is good enough–simple fare that befits the setting, which in essence, is a seafood shack shocked with colors. Ultimately, it’s the atmosphere that’s addictive; it’s positively exuberant–like a fisherman with a good catch of fishes.

514 Piikoi Street, 592-8500