Candice Kraughto is the director of public relations for Starwood Hotels & Resorts Hawaii, and thelobby.com's expert on the region. This week, she reports on dining in San Francisco.
The first time I tasted parsnips was at XYZ restaurant in the very chic, but cozy W San Francisco. I was having dinner with media and some colleagues from Hawaii including Sumithra and Chef Bart from The Westin Maui Resort & Spa. Chef Bart had just completed a live on-air cooking segment earlier on ABC San Francisco KGO-TV's "View from the Bay." We sat around an elegant round table near the window looking out at 3rd Avenue. The parsnips were positively delicious - why had I never eaten parsnips before? I called my husband excitedly later that night, "It had a savory taste between a creamy potato and a carrot," I raved. I dreamed of eating those parsnips again.
Was it just me? Or do most of people who grow up in Hawaii seldom have an opportunity to experience parsnip perfection? Macaroni and cheese is another mystery.
I grew up on a diet of abalone, opihi, pipikaula (smoked beef), shoyu chicken, pork adobo, tofu and okada, laulau, kalua pig, sushi and dim sum. Can't forget to mention the mom-and-pop East-meets-West-in Hawaii local food offered at humble okazuya deli throughout the neighborhoods. Born in the plantation days of old, when everyone shared food with each other, local Hawaii people celebrate our heritage of culinary fusion. Japanese fused with Filipino, Chinese and Hawaiian, you name it. Nobu's miso-glazed Chilean sea bass that Time Out New York proclaimed Dish of the Year in 2005? We grew up eating misoyaki butterfish at home popped under a hot broiler for 5-10 minutes when Mom was too lazy to cook. I once had the coveted pleasure of dining in Chicago at Charlie Trotter's acclaimed restaurant. Pig's tail was on the special $$$$ menu - it tasted exactly like kalua pig from home.
But these tender little parsnips intrigued me.
