Cover Story continued

Six o’clock on a Friday go-out-to-dinner evening. You think Alan Wong is in his kichen right now?

Food Notes

Food Notes

Food Notes / Sandy Moribe of Aala Meat Market confirms that local beef prices are moving up due to increased demand. Just a few years ago, few wanted locally raised pasture-fed beef.

Food Notes

Food Notes

Food Notes / No, it still hasn’t opened, but there are finally stirrings of life at Savas Mojarrad’s new joint at 2970 E. Manoa Road.

Food Notes

Food Notes

Food Notes / The Whole Ox is putting a whole new spin on local meat by providing Honolulu with brined, smoked and grilled marvels. Later this month, the Ox’s deli case will be featuring their Island-grown pancetta for home use.

On a Thursday night in Kailua, especially if you’re hungry, your feet might inadvertently carry you to the haze of food smells and the din and clatter of saucepans and utensils, vendors and consumers, all enthusiasts discussing what they like to eat. If you’re in Kailua on this night, it’s likely that you will find yourself in the Longs parking lot at the Kailua Farmers’ Market, whether you meant to be there or not.

Food Notes

Food Notes

Food Notes / Recently, a new lineup of locavore restaurant offerings have opened on the Windward side, including The Grove, Cactus, Prima–and Heeia Kea Pier Market & Deli. The last, on a pier leased from the state, is perhaps the most surprising.

Hawaii is rapidly becoming a center for chocolate growing, production and experimentation. We are the only state that has the climate for growing cacao.

Nadine and Malcolm Leong opened their tidy little shop on South King Street in 2010. This local couple, intrigued by the rich tradition of sake, had visited Japan several times.

What’s new in food? Nothing, really.

You’d be hard-pressed to find a more beautiful, engaging and interesting book this summer than the story behind the collection of copper plate engravings issued forth from Lahainaluna Seminary, a Maui school run by the Sandwich Islands Mission. Illustrations of Island towns and rural landscapes, portraits and objects of natural history and original maps and charts are just a few of the historical records found in this book, reminding us of an age before photography existed.

A cultural specialist, Malcolm Naea Chun, asserts that “aloha” has undergone a post-contact transformation–meaning that what “aloha” meant and what “aloha” means are two very different things. In his book, Aloha: Traditions of Love and Affection, Chun explores cultural revival and identification, moving beyond academic and intellectual arguments, and into the reality of communities and families now part of the political landscape of the Islands.

When I took Ka Honua Ola into my hands, it thrummed with energy, practically vibrated. I am not a Hawaiian.

When Jerry Hopkins, then a Honolulu journalist with a strong interest in all things Hawaiian but especially hula, began to write The Hula, first published in 1982, there was nothing like it. Thirty years later, there still isn’t.

In his editor’s note, Puakea Nogelmeier sums this book up best: “This monograph represents a range of thinkers and doers from the Hawaiian community–not just academic voices, but also individuals who are actively engaged in practical and scholarly perpetuation of Hawaiian knowledge.” This inaugural volume of The Hawaiinuiakea Monograph is organized through a bundling of essays and abstracts, each interpreting and applying ways in which words are understood and linked to the past. In the essay “Acts of Beauty: Here and Abroad,” author Nahua Patrinos writes, “Reintroducing modern indigenous audiences to their own historical and traditional knowledge is challenging, for the content and form can be long removed from familiarity.” This social and cultural awareness is explored and researched at length in Patrinos’s essay, along with others, and what readers are left with is a collection of ideas, insights and interpretations by native Hawaiian lifelong students, professional researchers, cultural practitioners, musicians and artists, scholars and academics.

They say some stories can only be told in their native languages, that no matter how skilled and sensitive the translator, some essential quality becomes inevitably lost in the transfer. Most of us wouldn’t know.

In the preface to the 2004 edition of Dreams from My Father, President Barack Obama writes, “I think sometimes that had I known she would not survive her illness, I might have written a different book–less a mediation on the absent parent, more a celebration of the one who was the single constant in my life.” In the biography, A Singular Woman, author and former New York Times reporter, Janny Scott, offers us a richer story of the President’s mother, a “brainy girl from a quintessentially American family, who, at 17, conceived a child with a man from Kenya in an era when nearly half of all states barred interracial marriage.” Dunham’s life is abundantly researched, and highlights from Scott’s book include an exploration of Dunham’s ancestry, family traditions, education, and an archival portrait of an American heritage that is neither exotic nor alien. Scott’s unsentimental reporting of Dunham’s life offers us the story of a independent woman whose family originally rooted themselves in the Flint Hills of Kansas, later emerging through Ann, as social pioneers.

Scholarly in tone and hardly a breezy read, this book nevertheless captured my attention because it explores two questions I’ve pondered about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormon) in Hawaii. How can so many Pacific Islanders belong joyfully and faithfully to a church that for years discriminated against people of color (barring African Americans from the priesthood, for example).

For local bird watchers and native plant and flower enthusiasts, Hawaii is rich with resources that tell you what species you’re looking at, and what makes that particular species different from all the others. Much less publicized are resources about native Hawaiian seashells, or those marine mollusks found on beaches throughout the Islands.

Will it be in a plane crash? A shark attack?

Seventy-one years is a long time. For many, it’s a lifetime.

Starting in the late 1930s, on a golden shore far, far away, a ragtag group of misfits drew upon legends of Hawaiian water-wisdom and begat surf culture. They weren’t angels, and they weren’t purists, except for an obsessive need to be in and around the ocean.

REVIEW 1: PUNK’D Times change fast–the Punk Era, as manifested in the l980s, already seems part of ancient history–except, of course, for some Hawaii kids, always a bit behind whatever curve is largely vanishing. Defining punk is a difficult matter, and that is among the several strengths of Tyler McMahon’s double-meaning-titled How The Mistakes Were Made, which, in microcosm, details the confusion, pretensions, and self-destructive arrogance of the Punk Rock era.

Interesting trivia fills the pages of Kakaako As We Knew It, an oral history of sorts by Marsha Gibson that may very well be one of the most interesting talk-story sessions you’ll ever hold in your hand. Although an easy read, it paints a different picture of the town we see today, as it, like much of O’ahu, has changed unrecognizably from what it once was to so many people in the 1930s-1957, when the residents of the dusty, camp-filled, tree-lined community they knew as “Kakako” were forced out to make room for the version we see, or choose not to see, today.

Randall Ng, a middle school counselor, isn’t the kind, compassionate man most people expect someone who works with children and teenagers to be. He’s brash, threatening and finds his students’ problems to be amusing.

In April, Haruki Murakami, author most recently of the epic, intriguing novel IQ84, was about to return home to Japan when the Weekly met him in his office at UH Manoa, where he had been artist-in-residence since September. Tanned and fit, wearing an orange polo shirt, cutoffs and sneakers, the novelist extended his hand with an inquiring gaze and trace of a smile.

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