Octopus balls & noodles with jelly round out new menu at HinoMaru

Takoyaki are like piping hot seafood-stuffed zeppoles topped with dancing bonito

When HinoMaru (meaning "circle of the sun" -- a nod to the Japanese flag) first opened on Ditmars just a few months ago, it caught the eye of noodle enthusiasts everywhere, especially considering the lack of slurpable options in Western Queens.  Although I genuinely enjoyed that initial visit where I sampled two of the eight regional ramen, alas with the breath-stifling heat of summertime came a lack of desire to lower my face to a steaming bowl of pork broth with a monkey-shaped fish cake.  But during a recent trip to Spa Castle, after watching a gaggle of sauna-soaked lunchtime ladies (with fluorescent green head towels wrapped into princess leia nuggets on each side) vigorously sucking down noodles like famished baby birds, I developed a hankering for a return visit.  Little did I realize that my sophomore meal would spark two more return visits within the next 72 hours...

When HinoMaru first opened, Chef Koji Miyamoto had told me that the menu would be gradually expanding, offering a few specials and introducing new dishes as the restaurant slowly eases into a rhythm.  To say I was surprised at how much this little noodle shop that could has grown in just a few months is quite an understatement.  The menu now includes all of the original regional soups and dishes, along with the addition of a chalkboard of daily specials, as well as a whole second printed page of nearly twenty Japanese tapas-style plates and seasonal noodle and rice bowl additions -- almost all under $10.

These softshell crab niku man (steamed buns) with scallions, cucumber straws, and sriracha mayo were some of the most delicious bao buns I have enjoyed.  The crunch of the breaded shellfish tucked into that heavenly soft (see how even the slightest fingerprint dimples the bread in the top bun?) Pac Man-shaped rice flour bread was simply fantastic.

The steamed nikuman are also available stuffed with spicy crab, tender pork belly, and even tempura shrimp.

And how much fun is this summertime strawberry ramune drink?  See how the bottle is "pinched" creating a figure 8 shape?  A glass marble is secured at the mouth by the pressure of the carbonation.  A little pushcap is served with the bottle, which you press into the marble until it pops down, and rattles around the upper drink chamber as you pour the soda.  Neighboring tables watched in amusement while we clumsily struggled to open this children's soft drink, but the refreshing result was worth it.

As if the variety of regional staples on the regular ramen menu aren't enough, the specials are wildly varied and interesting.  One of my favorites is this uni ramen, the noodles tossed in a very light parmesan cream, with a generous heap of sea urchin on top, along with fish cakes and nori shreds.  Like a seafood carbonara, it is undoubtedly one of the most original ramen dishes I have enjoyed, and wonderfully delicious.

Because piping hot ramen doesn't exactly strike a temptation in the stuffy New York City August heat, this cold seafood ramen is a refreshing departure from traditional noodle dishes.  Served chilled, a haystack of noodles is loaded with butterflied sweet shrimp, calamari rings, slivers of salmon sashimi, sea urchin, and shimmering dollops of a yuzu-soy-seafood jelly.   As you mix the jelly into the noodles, it melts, creating a delicate and playfully flavorsome glaze of Asian citrus and seafood, making this a very special dish.

A spicy jalapeno citrus base lays the flavor foundation for a unique shrimp ceviche, greenified with creamy avocado slivers and large chunks of red tomato and onions, sweetened with tangy cubes of fresh mango.

Jalapeno and mandarin orange studded salmon sashimi arrives on a bed of field greens. 

The menu also includes some less traditional and surprising dishes, like these browned, scored links of kurobuta sausage.  These bershire pork links are served on a bed of satsuma potato puree, a golden sweet potato whose rich color symbolizes wealth.

Vegetable small plates range from a cubed watermelon-tomato salad with yuzu vinaigrette, to sautéed cauliflower, seaweed salad with sweet corn, and this tender bowl of miso nasu--eggplant drizzled with a sweet miso glaze.

The menu now even boasts east and west coast oysters, though when we visited they only had Long Island oysters available--which were extremely fresh.

Alongside daily ramen and small plate specials, fantastic lunch deals rotate throughout the week, sometimes including a beautiful bento box like this with juicy chicken terriyaki, crunchy coated Japanese fried chicken, and a steamed pork nikuman.

Expected sweet endings include chewy, frosty orbs of various flavored mochi, but a delicious surprise includes this wonderfully silky coconut panna cotta, topped either with strawberries or diced mango, like a heavenly creme parfait.

The service is impeccable.  The prices are extremely affordable.  The space is pristine, and surprisingly spacious with several communal tables in a large back room, and a sweet graffiti garden patio in back.  Considering so many Americans seem to equate Japanese cuisine exclusively with sushi or chicken and vegetables flying across a flaming table, HinoMaru is an exceptional introduction to just some of the lesser known culinary delights of this fascinating country's kitchens and street food carts.

HinoMaru * 33-19 Ditmars, Astoria * 718-777-0228 * http://hinomaruramen.com

Cloud-Climbing, Slab Bacon, & Lava: Grande Finale on the Big Island

Landing on Hawaii "The Big Island" courtesy of Hawaiian Airlines

If someone told me that I had been teleported to Mars or some other distant planet that vaguely resembled Earth, it would have somehow seemed far more believable than the reality that I was on one of the fifty United States of America.  Each of the Hawaiian islands we visited were distinctly unique and beautiful in very different ways, but the island of Hawaii is a vast gallery of eye candy that I will never forget.

Larger than all of the other Hawaiian island combined, the island of Hawaii was created from five overlapping shield volcanoes, three of which are still active.  Unlike the other islands, the incline is so gradual on Hawaii at times, you can drive for miles and miles unaware that you are even traveling uphill, only to suddenly look at the horizon and realize that you are at the cloud line.  Driving along this highway in the sky, vast fields unfold, flat, but with giant mounds dotting the landscape, created from the buildup of lava outbreaks over thousands of years.  It is a majestic scene, and driving across the island was one of my favorite memories of the entire trip.

The Waikoloa Marriott Beach Resort & Spa is a sight-seeing destination all on its own, sprawling across fifteen acres facing the Anaeho'omalu Bay Beach and Ancient Fish Ponds, where we saw several exotic fish and giant sea eels.  A generous touch of hospitality, waiting for us on the desk when we arrived in our room, was a traditional pu'olo--a gift basket of fruits and sweets wrapped in ti leaves, welcoming us into our final vacation "home".

The pork chop special at Merriman's, with bacon brussels sprouts, taro mash, and caramelized pineapple.

Soon after checking into our hotel, we set out for one final excellent dinner set up by Urbanspoon, and a wonderful finale to an epicurean's island trip of a lifetime--Merriman's Restaurant in Waimea.  Almost like dining in a private home, Merriman's is an unpretentious, quaint little restaurant tucked away on the side of a volcano.  Unlike so many island restaurant, the decor is unassuming--anything but gimmicky or artificial island, very open and clean, with crisp, chilly mountain air spilling in through screened windows overlooking a lush courtyard and gardens.

Beverage selections range from the expected tropical concoctions, to an impressive selection of specialty drinks including this fragrant, sophisticated "mobeeto", with actual lavender from the courtyard garden, mint, basil, light rum, vodka, and a hint of Honopua Farms beet juice.  My friend, Matt, enjoyed a special wine flight with his dinner, including a fantastic sparkling lambrusco which surprised us.

 Though several appetizers tempted, the PuPu taster won our vote immediately, boasting a broad sampling of five of Merriman's most popular beginnings.  My personal favorite was this house-cured slab bacon, served with a ramekin of kona coffee barbecue sauce for dipping.  The platter also included crispy fried goat cheese medallions with plump strawberries,  Kalua pork and sweet onion quesadillas with mango glaze, ahi sashimi with kimchee and ponzu dipping sauce, and chili pepper Kauai prawns with a charred tomato and grilled lemon vinaigrette.

For the main course, I opted to stay with the sampling mentality, choosing the mixed plate of mahi mahi, wok-charred ahi, and filet mignon, all of which were superb.  Our server's recommendation of the pork special, however, was the most delicious pork dish of our trip (see image and description above).  As a general rule of thumb, it's always best to try the special, as that is the dish about which the chef is the most excited and refreshed.  But almost all recollection of our delicious dinner vanished as soon as we sank our teeth into a banana cheesecake with chocolate cookie crumble crust and caramel, as well as this Hawaiian chocolate purse--a filo parcel filled with molten chocolate cake, Kalua rum coconut sauce, and swett and salty toasted coconut.  Truly a splendid finale to our culinary adventures.

The following morning, we were off at 7AM for our final adventure on the islands--a helicopter tour of the volcanoes taking off from Hilo airport three hours away on the far side of the island.  Sure, we could have caught a chopper near our hotel--for $300 more--so instead we chose to soak in the breathtaking scenery on one final drive for a more affordable flight several miles (and hours) away.  This, of course, meant that we had to plan a pit stop at Tex Drive-In for some Portuguese malasadas, which turned out to be some of the most wonderful stuffed doughnuts, with a huge variety of fillings--from bavarian creme, to raspberry, to chocolate and an array of tropical fruits--the entire warm pastry puff then tossed in sugar... perfect for a Sunday morning with a cup of coffee for the road.

Already bouncy from the sugar overload and caffeine, I knew I also needed something savory for the day.  Tex offers wraps, burgers, and chili dogs on three packed pages of menu, but craving something uniquely Hawaiian, I quite literally devoured this terriyaki beef loco moco.  They serve it with cod, mahi mahi, hamburger, Spam (of course), chicken, and even a garden burger pattie... but the tender, thin terriyaki beef strips with the rich brown gravy and rice, and that gorgeous over easy egg, was the perfect combination of flavors... like a decadent Hawaiian steak and eggs.

My friend, Matt, however, has the most unfathomable sweet tooth on the planet.  The kid has been known to woof down a sleeve of Oreos for lunch with a 2-liter of Sprite (on a somewhat freakishly regular basis), yet a size medium shirt is still baggy on him.  If I could summon his metabolism from him a la Ursula in the Little Mermaid, believe you me, I absolutely would.  And so of course after his sugar-dusted cream-filled doughnut, he opted for the french toast on Hawaiian sweet bread--which although crazy delicious, proved too much for even him to tackle.  The bread is decidedly sweet, and very dense--almost like a cinnamon-dusted pound cake dripping with maple syrup--rendering this a wonderful plate to share, rather than attempt solo.

Arriving at Hilo Airport, we saw something that we had yet to see in the previous eight days on the island.  Rain clouds.  Like dark gray, ominous, humongous sponges hovering in the sky, waiting to unleash torrents over the volcanoes, as if God had called in his own personal fire squad to extinguish the lava.

Rain storms over the ocean rapidly approaching the island

Heavy rain = no helicopter tours, and sadly, we were turned away... our flight canceled, with no openings available later in the day.  Matt and I hugged one another in condolence, sad to miss a sight we could never see anywhere else, and the one financial "splurge" we had saved until the end of the trip now blown away like the Carrie Underwood song.

Since we were already nearby, and it was already raining, the rainforest somehow seemed to make sense.  And so we drove fifteen minutes back to Akaka Falls, a 422 foot tall waterfall visible from a loop trail that runs through the park.  It's a pathway that takes you down fern-cloaked nooks and crannies, with an overhead canopy of rain-drop-sequined palm fronds and exotic magenta pods that look more extraterrestrial than forest flora.  It was a rather stunning backdrop for the phone call we received from the tour company notifying us that another helicopter had opened up if we could be ready to check-in in fifteen minutes.  Thank goodness there were no cops stationed along that stretch of road!

From the air, you can actually see the fingers of the lava fields where they flow into the ocean...

Be forewarned that a breakfast of loco moco and malasadas with pound cake doused in syrup seems like the ultimate poor choice as you check-in for a helicopter flight, and they hoist you onto a luggage scale to figure out the balance for the helicopter, and even worse, if you'll have to pay a fat fee.  It's all for safety and evenly distributing weight throughout the chopper's six seats, obviously, but nonetheless, as you stand there on display waiting for the blinking red digital game show numbers to announce to the world that you splurged on every meal in Hawaii, you can't help but feel like Veruca Salt just moments before being declared a bad egg--all the while passengers in line behind you try to guess your wait in hushed whispers like carnies on the midway at the county fair.  But the moment your little chopper slowly defies gravity, wobbling into the air like a nervous toddler finding its balance, all of that dissolves into the past.  It's a frightening flight at times, but one that everyone experience at least once. 

Do you see those charred trees, like stubble on the side of the volcano?  That's how massive and powerful these lava fields are.  You can actually see rooftops peeking through the lava crust in some places where whole towns were consumed.  

See the glowing orange lava in the center?  The luminous silver crust is just freshly cooled lava... as seen from hundreds of feet in the air.

Even though it was a low flow day, as we circled, we could see tiny bright orange outcroppings of lava as it broke through the crust to the surface, leaving a whole mountainside of smoke.  As we glided peacefully over this naturally explosive terrain (Kiluhea is one of the most active volcanoes on the planet), you can't help but ponder the earth's creation.  After all, you are still witnessing it here firsthand in the middle of the Pacific.  It's like the planet is some gigantic molten lava cake that has been cooling for centuries, and we are flying over the one remaining piece that is still warm. The lava flow is still building this island, perpetually making it larger.  It's beyond humbling, and magnificent to witness in person.

After an extraordinary day over the volcanoes, we started the three hour journey back to the other side of the island, where we had reservations for a luau at the Marriott in Kona.  Luckily we'd planned ahead, changing clothes in the parking lot as we'd barely made it back in time.  Though some may consider a luau touristy, every local we met suggested that everyone should experience it once.  It's sort of like a 101 course in Hawaiian language, music, and certainly food.  And the dancing, flame-eating, and storytelling is nothing short of beautiful.

Hawaiian music live is almost indescribable... men of stature playing delicate instruments, and singing with unprecedented tenderness in simple harmonies over sweeping melodies that sometimes leap large intervals at a time, their voices gliding gently as if on an slowly rolling ocean.   Though I might recommend this activity as something to do as an introduction toward the beginning of the trip, for us, it was a perfect way to reflect on the whole trip at the end.  It's a time to meet new people, share stories and recommendations, and celebrate the beautiful islands in a uniquely Polynesian manner.

Returning the rental car before a departing flight, finding a gas station can be challenging (you can only put massive tanks of gas in the ground so many places on an island bubbling with lava!)  But a kind surprise was a simply gorgeous Hawaiian woman who tapped my shoulder smiling...  "how was your trip?  Did you get to taste a lot of great food and see the islands?"  Upon removing her sunglasses, I realized it was my flight attendant from the trip from JFK to Honolulu over a week ago.  Hawaiian Airlines is exceptional when it comes to hospitality.  I was genuinely touched she remembered me.

The flight home, though peaceful and reflective, is always sad.  Even though excited to see friends and share stories, Hawaii is a difficult place to leave.  Thank goodness for the food!  We chose again from a selection of fresh fish in soy ginger glaze, crab salad tacos in crispy wontons, giant spinach gnocchi in a tangy marinara sauce, and prosciutto-wrapped asparagus with assorted cheeses.

It took a lot of self-control not to ask for the extra dessert involuntarily declined by slumbering neighbors, a Grand Marnier ice cream truffle coated in white chocolate in a pool of creme anglaise.  Chef Chai, once again, did a magnificent job of breaking the barriers of typical airline food--it's a meal I would gladly order again and again on the ground.

From the extreme hospitality and luxurious comforts of Hawaiian Airlines (Alisa Onishi in Marketing set up not only flights, but acted as liaison for all hotel arrangements), to the impeccable world class staff and simply gorgeous accommodations at Marriott (every hotel on the trip was spectacular), to the unbelievable generosity of Urbanspoon (I truly owe them all a lifetime of Christmas presents--I have never been treated so kindly as I was by Laura Williams--the Social Community Manager--who continuously made checked on my comfort and well-being), to the flawless, awe-inspiring people, culture, and landscape of the islands... my island hopper trip to Hawaii was a trip of a lifetime.  Thank you to everyone who made it happen... and to my readers, friends, and family, who believe in me and make this so much fun to share.  I never take my ridiculously incredible journey over the years for granted. A world of gratitude to everyone who touches my life.

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And remember... you still have a few weeks to book a reservation online at Urbanspoon for your chance to win a trip just like mine, including Merriman's mentioned above!  Click here for more info.

Wow-wee Maui

The clouds actually spill over the north side of Maui at sunset, as if wrapping it in a blanket for the night.

If I had a dollar for every time I broke the third commandment in Hawaii, it could have probably paid for a few extra nights of accommodations.  As if channelling Elle Woods, the only words I could often find to describe my reactions were "Oh My Gawd" or some variation there-of, sometimes speckled with expletives (random thought... is texting OMG using the Lord's name in vain???)  It's as if the majestic landscape renders you momentarily unintelligent, void of sufficient adjectives to articulate what you are witnessing.  And Maui was certainly no exception.  Formed by two shield volcanoes that overlapped enough to form one island (a volcanic doublet) over millions of years, Maui is one of the few islands where you can see other parts of it wrapped around the distant horizon, as well as two other nearby islands just across the ocean.  The result is as if gazing upon painted scenery, and if you concentrate long enough, all concept of distance blurs and you imagine you could swim between the islands.

From our balcony at the gorgeous Wailea Beach Marriott Resort & Spa, we could not only see the northern part of the island off to the right, but also the island of Lanai (from our lanai!) straight ahead, as well as the unpopulated island of Kahoolawe far off to the left.  This black sand beach (above) was just footsteps from our patio, and we watched the sun set behind Lanai our first evening, the reflection glowing golden on the volcanic sands.  Of course just a short walk to the left or right, and there were white sand beaches where sunbathers would rotisserie during the day, or even swim and snorkel in the ocean with enormous sea turtles.

After having driven the full length of Kauai what seemed like several times the day before (we were in the car for nearly a total of seven hours in just one day), we determined that Maui would be our R&R island.  After all, it was home of the meal we had most eagerly anticipated; not to mention that our aspirations for the Big Island coming up would demand our full strength.

A ten minute drive from Wailea, downtown Kihei holds several clusters of small restaurants and shops in a fairly concentrated area, ideal for one-stop shopping.  So for lunch, I took a recommendation to check out a local favorite, Da Kitchen, a casual little restaurant serving "plate lunches" with large portions of Hawaiian cuisine at very reasonable prices.  As always, it's a great indicator of authenticity when you pull up and the restaurant is full of construction workers in neon orange vests, and local families arriving in pick-up trucks.  If overwhelmed by the huge menu, the Hawaiian Plate is a perfect choice--a sort of sampler with lau lau pork (steamed pork wrapped in taro leaves), kalua pork (slow-cooked and shredded and wonderfully salty), chicken long rice (almost like chicken and vermicelli in a richly flavored savory broth), lomo salmon (think pico de gallo with bits of salmon), a scoop of rice, and a side of potato mac (that's potato macaroni salad... combining two picnic classics), and of course, a can of POG.  I tasted small portions of the extremely generous heapings, not wanting to spoil the upcoming dinner.

Stopping at a gift shop on the way home, of course the basket of strange candy bars on the counter caught my eye.  Despite my affinity for food and my occasional sweet tooth, you will rarely see me eating candy.  I take in enough calories writing about meals that excessive snacks aren't justifiable.  But when the wrapper indicates it's a special candy bar made nearby, and the fillings range from potato chip, to chewy banana and macadamia nut, to caramel and kona coffee milk chocolate bars, you at least have to try one.  And let me tell you, if you see these guys on a counter, snatch them up.  They are absolutely delicious, real chocolate made from local ingredients, with fun fillings...  What I intended to be a gift for friends in NYC ended up being consumed over the course of the next four days and as mid-flight snacks.

By the afternoon, full blown fatigue had officially reigned victorious, and I slowed the throttle on my zeal for exploration, retreating to the infinity pool.  What you see in the above photo is my view at eye level when I woke up leaning on the edge of the pool overlooking the ocean, lapping up water like a dehydrated puppy.  I have no idea how long this had been happening before coming to (my friend had been sleeping on a sun chair on the pool deck the whole time), but judging from the giggles around me I had probably been asleep at least long enough for an REM cycle or two, some sleep talking, and perhaps a thunderous snore or two... my shoulders slightly tender under the sun.  Embarrassed, but fully refreshed and relaxed, it was time to prepare for dinner.

If you do nothing else on Maui, you must eat at Mama's Fish House.  If you have no other meal in Hawaii, you must eat at Mama's Fish House.  If you love seafood, have ever dreamt of dinner on the beach, value impeccable service, crave top cuisine in a more comfortable atmosphere, and want a meal you will remember for the rest of your life... you must eat at Mama's Fish House.  While I wish we had enjoyed more time to explore the mysteries of Maui the way that we did Kauai, this dinner alone was reason that I will someday fly back to this very island, in the hopes of sharing this incredibly special restaurant with dear people in my life.

 After descending a tiki-lit pathway down a hill, this converted beach house sits on a white sand beach in a secluded coconut grove.  Passing through an open air lobby with a multi-colored blown glass chandelier, the dining room unfolds in retro Hawaiian decor, tables generously spaced apart, with dramatic lighting from burlap-lined bushel basket lamp shades creating the illusion that your table is the only one for miles around.  Signature drinks include vintage cocktails, like the 1944 Trader Vic's Mai Tai.  And while many restaurants claim the farm-to-table philosophy, the menu at Mama's lists the actual names of the fisherman who caught the fish on that day's menu, different names by each dish.

Amuse bouche: an earthenware shot glass of Haiku tomato ginger bisque

Service was flawless--knowledgeable, attentive, but never overbearing, and refreshingly relaxed without being too familiar.  Beginning with the whole wheat honey poppyseed bread and an amuse bouche of a silky, sweet Haiku tomato ginger bisque (recipe available here), every dish that arrived was exceedingly delicious and memorable.  When the bisque arrived, our server explained the gorgeous fresh flower on our table was known as red ginger, encouraging us to gently squeeze it to release its aroma.  Like inhaling the bouquet of a wine before sipping, the fresh scent of spicy ginger in the air only made the bisque that much more pleasurable.

Buttery tenderloin medallions in a grilled, ripe Hana papaya should not be missed, the char caramelizing the sweet fruit even more, rendering the pulp juicy and tender, almost spreadable on the medallions of steak.  A Tahitian ceviche of ono marinated in lime and coconut milk arrived in a coconut shell, with a trellis of fresh coconut spears like a tipi over the tender, buttery sashimi.

Though chilled soups have never been my preference, this chilled mango and Tahitian lime soup blows my mind, launching my tastebuds on a fantastic and unfamiliar roller coaster ride (a trait I cherish in a dish) like a bowl of sweet, tart, herbed mango sorbet that has just barely melted to liquid, yet thick enough to make a satisfying dish all by itself.  Even Mama's salad with hearts of palm, dried cranberries, goat cheese, and bacon exploded with flavor.

At the precise moment any diner's taste buds would have been teetering on the precipice of confusion, small dollops of passion fruit-coconut water sorbet arrive to cleanse the palate for the main courses.

Choosing each course is somewhat agonizing, as not a single menu description lacks in appeal.  I simply looked at our server for each course and said, "this is our first visit, and we may never have the chance to eat here again... please tell me the one dish I simply have to try."  For a broad sample of the fresh catch, we enjoyed a trio of ahi, ono, and mahimahi sauteed in panang curry and coconut milk with a tangy mango chutney.  Each small filet contributed a unique texture and flavor to the mild spices, creamy sauce, and vibrant chutney.  But the one dish I will never, ever forget, is the signature mahimahi caught along the north shore of Maui by Amando Baula (recipe available here).  Juicy filets of mahimahi are stuffed with sweet lobster and crabmeat, then crusted in crushed macadamia nuts which give a glorious crunch before biting into the tender seafood.  A pineapple beurre blanc blankets the dish, lending exotic sweetness and butter to what is already an exquisite preparation (our server generously brought a boat of extra on the side, which I generously ladled over everything on the plate).  Topped with a lobster tail and spears of baby asparagus and served with sweet white corn on the cob, this is that one Hawaiian dish of which you thought you could only dream, as you sigh, smile, and savor each bite, not wanting to share, but knowing that your dinner companion simply has to experience this treasure, as you relinquish the smallest forkful you can muster, praying he won't ask for a second bite!

Now when people you meet at the hotel, in the airport, or at the beach find out you will be dining at Mama's, and afterwards when friends at home inquire about your trip, almost everyone will ask if you tried the Polynesian Black Pearl--their signature dessert--a passionfruit chocolate mousse served in a pastry seashell.  Preparing for our dinner, it is the only dish virtually everyone said we had to try.  So when our server rather passionately steered us another direction, it was a dilemma.  As she had guided us flawlessly in every other way, it felt rude not to trust her at the finale.  And I am so glad that we chose to trust her, because this Kuau chocolate pie was a memory in and of itself.  As your fork cuts down into a gooey (yet not overpoweringly rich) chocolate ganache, buttery caramel pours out the sides down the chocolate cookie crust.  You then stab a raspberry or blueberry and swirl it through the sauce, before stabbing the chocolate for the perfect bite.  Our server brought out a scoop of homemade Bailey's ice cream to help balance the flavors, and it was a profoundly delicious combination.

Vacation dinner in my family always ends with a slice of key lime pie, so when our server gave us the thumbs up on the Tahitian Lime pie with coconut lime sorbet, we had to jump in.  Topped with a toasted coconut dusted chocolate palm tree on a beach of cookie crumbles and crunchy chocolate pearls, it was perfectly tart and playful--a great balance to its more decadent chocolate caramel counterpart.  And after a stemmed mug of Bora Bora coffee with dark rum and a scraping of fresh vanilla bean, an evening dip in the jacuzzi and a light swim in the pool was the only thing left to cap off the evening.

Our check was presented with two pieces of homemade haupia, like a small mignardises of coconut panna cotta--as well as a warm hand towel soaked in almond extract, which left our hands almost bafflingly smooth and moisturized.  

The price range is admittedly a little higher than many other Hawaiian restaurants (though certainly nothing shocking by New York standards), but the check you pay at the end has less to do with the plates you ordered than the entire memory that was created.  From atmosphere and decor, to service, exceptional and exotic cuisine, to complimentary valet parking, I cannot imagine a better dollar spent on a holiday.

And considering Urbanspoon had sponsored this as one of the meals provided with the trip, it was one of the moments in Hawaii where I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the opportunity I had been given.  Couples and families save months and years for a trip like this, and I here I sat with one of my dearest friends enjoying the meal of a lifetime courtesy of my favorite dining website and smartphone app, a premier airline, and one of the most trusted and respected hotel brands in the world.  And all because I started a humble blog about something I love, and have been blessed with a miraculous support system of people who believe in me in ways I never could have asked, and voted to win me this experience.  I pinched myself all the way back to the hotel.  And then I slept like a baby under crisp, fresh hotel sheets, my curling my toes in brand new white socks, with the air conditioning on high, my head on a mountain of soft pillows, facing the outline of the distant islands in the moonlight just across a silver ocean.  Life is way better than good.

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And remember, you too can enjoy Mama's Fish House on Maui courtesy of Urbanspoon, with flights generously provided by Hawaiian Airlines and gorgeous accommodations by Marriott just like I did.  All you have to do is click here to learn how (it's easy--you just make a reservation on Urbanspoon for a chance to win your own trip!)