Blog Menu

Archive for the ‘Out and About’ Category

Memoirs & Mondiale du Vin Summer BBQ

Friday, September 2nd, 2011

Memoirs recently provided a summer BBQ style menu for the Kauai/Oahu chapter of the Mondiale du Vin USA.  The food was well received, the wine flowed freely & the beautiful Oasis World Estate in Aina Haina provided the perfect setting for a sunset followed by a full moon rise.

The Menu:

surfing goat cheese stuffed shrimp cakes,
hamachi ceviche w/ avocado, lime & truffle oil &
petite filet w/ port shallot butter
Garlic shrimp skewered with Ho farm tomatoes
Grilled organic chicken breast with ginger lilikoi marinade
Grilled Andrade (Kauai) beef striploin w. port honey glaze on a variety of grilled local vegetables
Hand cut pasta and truffle tomato sauce
Haricort vert, shallot and poha berry balsamic glaze
Roasted Maui thyme Twin-Bridge potatoes
Nalo Greens with torched mac nut dressing
Kula Strawberry and mascarpone tartlets
Wailua chocolate crunch bar brownies

Following the dinner, the Societe awarded a famed plate from Mondiale du Vin & Chaine de Rottiseries to Chef Foster.

Société Mondiale du Vin USA Logo Stickers

Surf and Turf

Tuesday, January 11th, 2011

During this year’s Da Hui competition, Memoirs was front and center at a home on Sunset Beach serving up the turf while there was plenty of turf.

The theme? Brazilian BBQ. Freshly ground cinnamon rubbed over pineapple and set above the smoking ribeye did the job. Clients almost lost their lives out in the breakers but were able to make it back to shore for some savory grilled island fruit and some juicy grilled, Prime cut Ribeye steaks.

Something worth living for if nothing else. Congratulations to winner John John Florence. I remember you when you were just this high.


Sunday, December 19th, 2010

The party was half an hour away. Meticulous planning and prep had been hashed, re-hashed, reviewed and re-reviewed. One phone call and none of it mattered.

The count went up 25% at 3:30. The party was a 6:30. The horn sounded and Rin-tin-tin was getting smashed at his own Holiday joint. Now it was us, all 4 of us vs. however many broke down the gates.

The hord of jolly and jaded were on the march, beating holiday drums, drums in the deep and not the ones baby Jesus bobs his head to, mugging Joseph from the swaddling mess of gold frakenscence and mirr.

The Audi, BMW and Benzo mufflers in the distance grew louder. They were coming. The Kahala maze from outer space would have shown 40 pac mans chomping through luxury homes and our party was the strawberry in the middle.

What happened at 6:30? 4 people showed up. I took a breathe, blinked and when my eyes opened, the back yard was going off. Lounge music soothing, people grazing, women sipping and guys chugging. Aukai swashbuckling, Malu parrying. Kanani flying out plates and if there were ropes, John would have been swinging from them with tongs in one hand and a slicer in his teethe.

The filet walked out medium rare, basking in oxtail demi glace. The golden shrimp cakes stuffed with goat cheese stole the show, again. And the plump masala chicken with grilled marsala pears was gone.

Before the night was over I was working the bar and the DJ was bussing wine glasses. Once the faux silver balls, pine needles and Champagne bubbles had settled, I had an excellent Kentucky Bourbon with a happy host.

Aukai and Malu did an impossible job. They handled 65, professional party going guests, between the 2 of them… In the end it comes down to one thing. True hospitality and flexible service. The client has a need and we have a solution.

-Happy Holidays.

Tsukiji Phenomenon

Thursday, December 9th, 2010

Moving through the world’s largest fish market is dangerous if you don’t first understand you are not welcome. Fish mongers flying through the narrow lanes on what look like levitating barrels with steering wheels on top, will run you over if you do not move.

Cupping a hot coffee after staying up all night partying in Tokyo, I strained to comprehend it all. Scallops larger than my fists, and no one was gawking. Ahi loins locked under glass vaults and already spoken for were not allowed to be photographed, and so I had to. Menpachi fish from the Land of the Lost brought me to my knees. I know the game so I stayed clear. Hustling loads of fish out to all the restaurants by the morning requires intense organized chaos.

Their sense of urgency became mine. I felt like passing out tiny cups of Gatorade and cheering them on, but I was wasted and that move would have left dead in some oversized barrel out back as chum for the next day.

I underpaid for a prize sea bass, went home, threw it in the fridge and passed out. Later that day I scaled and gutted the fish in Dan’s freezing cold backyard with his dull knife. We spent our last night with a group of friends, good wines and cheeses plus a sea bass preparation that left everyone gruntled.

I can prepare the dish again for anyone reading this now. The seared preparation stems from my approach to choosing the right salt and the right pan for the sear. Then I cross flavor attributes of the particular specie (whatever’s on hand that day) with pepper seeds, crushed citrus, vinegar and buttery things ( whatever’s on hand that day as well.)

But not before

Japan’s pound for pound

Thursday, December 9th, 2010

I saw the marbled white lines of fat outweighing actual red beef.  The Kobe beef display was calling me. I could only stand still under the solo ray of awesomeness beaming down from the super market ceiling.

Nothing says relaxation like massages, sunshine, all you can eat and beer throughout the day, everyday.

“These cows are living better than most Japanese businessmen,” I whispered aloud. The long faced man who had slept the night before in his suite next to me looked severely offended and shuffled away.

With both hands holding out more money than I could register, a slight bend in the torso and I respectfully held out my earnings. “They’ve had a good life,” I whispered again, still perturbing the patrons in the market.

After a long while I realized the display would not accept my money and that someone in the front of the store would have to close the transaction. Prize in hand I made it to the register, walked outside and the Jesus ray faded away into the Tokyo neon.