I left my mountain retreat this Thanksgiving afternoon and headed north along Queen Kaahumanu Highway into blustery trade winds. An afternoon haze yielded only a faint view of the massive Haleakala, the capstone of the island of Maui, across the Alenuihaha Channel. Off to my right was a clear view of the equally massive Mauna Kea, brushed clear of clouds by the strong winds. Straight ahead lay the Kohala Mountains, capped with clouds, which I thought was very odd given the wind. What a panorama, massive volcanic mountains blending into the deep blue ocean.
As I turned onto the road entering the resort I noticed how the giant palms swirled about wildly in the wind, as if mimicking some wild ‘60’s dance. A short way down the road I veered off to the right, away from the resort and into a group of private homes. I parked my pickup truck in a spot which had heretofore known only luxury sedans, strode across the manicured lawn and into quite a nice holiday feast.
I removed my slippers at the front door, moved down a short hallway and ran into a wall of aromas that stopped me in my tracks. While the pupus (i.e., appetizers) were good and the wines served their role, the dinner was the star of this evening. To begin, there were two turkeys, one slow cooked in an imu (an earthen oven) and the second slow cooked over a gas flame grill. The “imu” turkey was seasoned only with oyster sauce and then wrapped in Ti leaves for the long, overnight bake. The grilled turkey was placed breast down, seasoned lightly and then smoked with mesquite wood for seven hours. The almost buttery taste of the “imu” preparation was excellent and was a superb compliment to the smoked taste of the grilled bird.
While the meats were very tasty and the al dente haricot verte, the spicy cranberry sauce, the heavily creamed skin-on mashed potatoes, the gourmet salad were above reproach, the dinner stars were the dressing and the sweet potatoes. The sweet potatoes were pureed with heavy cream, candied ginger and a touch of whiskey. The color, texture and taste were perfect. The sweetness coupled with the ginger was so good.
But, for me, the piece d’resistance was the dressing. It began with fresh baked herbal focaccia, which was complimented a sauté of garden fresh spinach, onions, celery, carrots and garlic. When you add a generous portion of feta cheese, freshly picked sage, thyme and Italian parsley, bake that in a roux of “huli huli” chicken broth textured with a couple of eggs, you have an unbelievably rich and delicious carnival of flavors. I could’ve slathered it all over my body.
We ended with a delicious homemade flan topped with a very nice raspberry sauce. It was an eating climax but a memory that will linger, both in my mind and around my belt line. The magic of the food was punctuated by ringing laughter. The joy of the evening floated on a breeze of soft Gregorian chants. When we could move, we ensconced ourselves on the sofas and sipped a lovely South African after dinner tea. Slowly I gathered the energy for the drive home. The long drive was very dark, the stars were bright and I was warmed by the thoughts of my special evening.
