DIP INTO A TASTEMAKER'S DELECTABLE TRAVELS
Aloha... Ahi & Aaahaa to Hawa'ii, a Scrumptious Seaside Sanctuary
You truly have not lived, until you've experienced her scrumptious enchantment for yourself. Kona is surely, the immaculate incarnation of the purest pleasure ever known to man. Nestled amidst breathtaking palatial views of sprawling turquoise and sapphire blue patchwork. We'll call it the Pacific.
It's just three o'clock and already I've repeatedly found my 'Aaahaa' moments, in between opakapaka (crimson or pink snapper), teppanyaki (think Benihana), and seaside cabana massages. And each audaciously extravagant experience, was unmistakably seared to utter perfection.
As I savored what was decidedly, the most romantic paradisical setting, I made only vigorously insensible decisions; Sandals or heels tonight -- To surf or turf or cop another sun bath by the sea, (in spite of my peeling nose) -- Lu'au or take the boat to the room for some shut-eye -- Green peppercorn sauce or gorgonzola butter on my dry-aged medium ribeye. Shamelessly, those were the sincerest, most nagging questions during my coveted weeks in one of the most alluring states in the U.S.
Michael laughed so freely this holiday, evoking more smiles than my glistening mahogany cheeks could summon, considering my cheeks were sunburned by the fourth day, like blushingly vine ripe tomatoes. "How his facial lines have diminished, beneath his rested asian eyes, since early retirement," I thought to myself.
Eyes undisturbingly following his fingers as he skipped the oysters in search of the golden fried, macadamia nut dredged jumbo shrimp. Thank God, they served them with just a touch of mango chutney.
Purposelessly, wan-tingly, I groped the neck of my husband's fork, urging him to succumb to even his tiniest, titillating taste bud. My hope was that he'd give in to the lure of the miso and sake, while I opted for the limu poke, (raw marinated fresh big island ahi tuna with seaweed and red algae salt.) And it was sensational. The cold water lobster martini was so irresistible, it deserved an agent. And the steamed lobster, dipped in tropical butter wasn't a swallow less than fabulously fresh and superb.
Our mouths swelled with so many 'Ooohs and Ahhhs,' as we enjoyed our pleasure playground meticulously dotted with delectable dishes. And the choices we made, their sequence, seemed, well, deliberately provocative, especially when followed by sips of an alluring bordeaux. The silkiest black truffle kahlua cream sauce atop the wood-fired snapper made my toes curl, during this thrilling utopia.
On this night, Chef Dayne Tanabe sent a glorious medley of Kamuela Provision Company's best to his newfound friends, who in turn, reserved fave table 74, night after night. "Best table in the house," Tanabe swelled with pride. And I'll never forget it. Lit perfectly beneath blood-orange kissed skies, just overlooking a cavernous cliff, smack dab in the center of the Waikoloa sunset -- safe above waves, daringly, dizzyingly and dangerously inviting.
As we breathed in the night's last breath, panoramic views of the picturesque swaying palms transported our souls. While nightfall's whistling winds played in honor of the day's departure -- making way for heavens flickering lights (which resembled giant star anise). We took in the serenading sounds of the conch shell being blown by an island torch lighter. Clad in native frocks, he honored the tradition of his homeland as he ran right by our table, from torch to torch.
"What will it be, poke or ahi? Blackened's the best," our server pleasingly protested in the sexiest of tongue. I settled on the fresh island mahi, simmered in saffron (prized as the worlds most expensive spice resembling red threads, derived from a crocus.) As the sparkling stretches of ocean shimmered like black stardust, it played it's last wave of the night. But not before excellently glazed, vanilla creme brulee was summoned, in a flaky, nutty, buttery pastry crust, surrounded by a trio of berries.
In a place where skylines meet thousand-year-old volcanic mountains, still overflowing with fiery red-hot lava and some of the finest beaches stretch their arms to nowhere, I found myself secluded, in an oasis of lavish grandeur with succulent yum, unequaled anywhere. Reservations?
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