I don’t know just exactly how one rewrites a place in their memory, carving out new neural pathways and feeling new feelings, but I do know that hot, fresh donuts help. I repeated this mantra to myself as we drove to the airport on Maui, stashing our luggage in Alana’s dad’s office and sauntering through the relaxed, open air terminals that make up Kahului International Airport. I repeated it to myself as I broke into the emergency stash of chocolate Stephanie had packed for us, and as Molly began daydreaming about all the SPAM musubi she was about to eat on Oahu. We were embarking on #SLAMsquad (Stephanie, Lily, Alana, and Molly) phase 2: Oahu. I should have been thrilled.
But here’s the thing. I haven’t been to Oahu in 9 years. Haven’t been since my mother was diagnosed with late-stage endometrial cancer, haven’t been since I sat in a cold, damp stairwell of the hospital with my hot pink Motorola RAZR 3 flip phone and called the boyfriend who’d broken up with me three days before to tell him that something else in my life had broken, too. I hadn’t been since my heart was shattered. Oahu, for me, had become one of Those Places That Hurt™. We all have them. But nine years later, I was determined to undo the trademark, to make Oahu new for me.
Beginning with donuts.
Armed with the spiritually enlivening promise of fresh malasadas (Hawaiian-style portuguese donuts) stuffed with creamy chocolate, haupia (coconut pudding), and a million other flavors, I arrived on Oahu ready to receive its abundant beauty and flavor. With Alana—who’d lived on Oahu for years prior to California—as our skillful guide, we navigated traffic and hanger to make pit stops at the Rainbow Drive-In (President Obama’s preferred plate lunch destination) and Diamond Head Market & Grill on our way to my deep-fried emotional promised land: Leonard’s Bakery.
Having tried my very first SPAM (seriously—I lived eighteen years of life on Maui without ever trying SPAM), I was primed and ready for mega hot stuffed donut consumption. They did not disappoint, and I knew, already, that this trip would be nothing like my last. There would be no tears shed. I had my girls and now I had six fresh donuts (don’t forget to top at least one with li hing mui powder!) and that was that.
From there, we brushed the sugar off our faces and swept forward to our sanctuary of a hotel at the edge of Waikiki: The Modern Honolulu.
The Modern’s clean design, and bright, airy rooms made it easy to slip into a homey groove (plus that view—top right above—doesn’t hurt), and we wasted no time getting down to the Sunset Pool. A few drinks and pool floaty lounges later, the three of us were feeling just peachy about the night ahead.
The Modern is home to Morimoto Waikiki, a restaurant I’ve never had the pleasure of dining in anywhere in the world. At 5:30, with the sun still glowing on our backs, we settled into a bungalow-ensconced omakase (chef’s choice) feast overlooking the harbor. Plate after plate emerged, exquisitely crafted works of art created to stimulate every one of the senses.
From the veggie bagna cauda to sushi so exquisitely crafted it looked like stained glass to an artist’s palette of ahi and hamachi tartare, we left steeped in perfection of taste. The intermezzo were also gorgeous, most notably a kombu-cha, or sea kelp tea, which blew my mind as it illuminated the traditional meaning of the popular kombucha drink. How had I not realized this before?! Of course, the kombucha we’re used to drinking isn’t made from sea kelp, but what a glorious way to discover and recontextualize meaning.
The meal passed with a voracious slowness that kept us lingering even as we grew almost too full to move. But I was in the Honolulu groove now, and when Alana suggested we explore her friend Justin Park’s exquisitely appointed Bar Leather Apron, I couldn’t refuse. Driving through the city at night brought me closer to a pulse of island life I hadn’t felt before—an urban center where people actually go out past 9pm on a Hawaiian island? My country bumpkin Maui girl self marveled.
The streets of Chinatown glistened, ornate building facades looking down on us as we wove our way towards the high-rise that housed Justin’s masterpiece of a bar. Once inside, I couldn’t imagine ever leaving. I enjoyed whisky for the first time in my life, infused with citrus and a splash of shiso liqueur. The bar was all leather and dark denim and glass, perfect jazz suffusing every scent, every sip. Shortly after we arrived, a bartender began smoking cedar wood chips to infuse their signature mai tai. I was drunk with the sheer pleasure of the place. Before we returned to our cozy beds at The Modern, Justin generously slipped me a small vial of shiso liqueur to play with at home. I can’t wait.
Primed with omakase and whisky, we slept soundly and woke up bright and early to climb the wildly steep stairs to Diamond Head. This short but mighty trail leads to an extraordinary lookout, taking you along the hillside, through momentarily pitch black tunnels, and once important military fortresses. Steph and I may or may not have held hands through one of the tunnels, because that’s what friends are for.
We made it back down eager for caffeine and avocado toast, and found our way to ARVO Cafe, an Aussie-influenced coffee shop and home goods store also boasting an air plant nursery. A London Fog Tea Latte, Matcha Chia Parfait, and Loaded Avo Toast later, we were ready to take on the day.
Photo of me by Stephanie Le.
The morning passed quickly with more pool-time (daybeds FTW!), a visit with one of my oldest childhood friends, Maria, and her baby Mikayla, and some Honolulu exploration. We flitted between shops in Chinatown, discovering the gorgeous things that seem to come at you so much more frequently when you’re on vacation. I found this year’s perfect, scoop-back LBD (little black dress) at Fighting Eel, and got to drink in some Strange Invisible Perfumes at Echo & Atlas.
That evening brought one of my favorite meals of the trip, at The Pig & The Lady. Molly, Steph, Alana and I dressed up in our new threads, keenly aware that our final night under the same roof was upon us. We settled in and asked our server to bring it all, to deliver unto us what she would want for herself. And deliver she did. The konbu beignets with parmesan dipping sauce blew our minds. The black truffle cacio e pepe seduced us. The turmeric and herb marinated fish (cha ca “La Vong”) with rice noodles, lemon balm, mint, and peanuts sang us a song of glory. There were many, many more dishes, and every single one was phenomenal. Including the frozen custard and soft-serve sorbet.
Though the next morning was our last, we started it with our feet in the sand, walking from Duke Kahanamoku Lagoon Boardwalk around the Hilton Hawaiian Village and down Waikiki Beach as far as we liked. Views of Diamond Head and the gentle lull of an early tide echoed beauty all around. As I walked, I felt pure open space where the calcified hurt of this place had once lived in my mind. It was new again. I had reclaimed Oahu as my own, without the pall of memory weighing on it.
Before jetting to the airport that afternoon, we made one final, very important stop: Helena’s Hawaiian Food with the incredible Jade Snow (who I grew up with on Maui) and her business partner Kim Shibata. Settling in for our first Hawaiian meal of the trip, I had the joy of tasting perfectly made poi (fermented taro), squid lū’au (squid, taro leaves, coconut milk, and spices—seriously delicious!), lomi-lomi salmon (a chunky fresh tomato and salmon tartare), haupia (coconut pudding), and so many other dishes for the first time in years.
Kim and Jade presented us with bagfuls of handcrafted sweets and gifts permeated with so much aloha that I started to cry right there at the lunch-table. Jade laughed: “You haven’t changed at all since high school, have you?” I shook my head. No words were necessary.
The sweetness of her reflection stayed with me as we raced to make our plane back to Maui. It is some kind of miracle: For all the places that we go, our hearts keep beating the same beat. To discover a new part of my heart on this neighboring island, free of the past, was pure delight.
Read below for my full list of recommendations on where to stay, eat, and play in Honolulu.
PLACES TO STAY
The Modern Honolulu (check out their incredible Friends with Benefits program)
PLACES TO EAT
Leonard’s Bakery
ARVO Cafe
Morimoto Waikiki
Bar Leather Apron
The Pig & The Lady
Helena’s Hawaiian Food
PLACES TO PLAY
Diamond Head Lookout
Waikiki beachfront walk
Shopping in Chinatown: Fighting Eel, Echo & Atlas, Owens & Co.
Ala Moana
The Study
Huge aloha and mahalo to Nella Media Group and Island Air for bringing us to Oahu, and The Modern Honolulu for hosting us with so much ho’okipa (hospitality).
