Now that so many more of us reach for kimchi and chile crisp as easily as ketchup and Parmesan, once-unfamiliar flavor combinations can feel overplayed. But with his breakout debut Nami Kaze, chef Jason Peel shows us that there is still infinite possibility — even here in Honolulu, where the most iconic dishes reflect generations of multicultural mashups. At the restaurant’s buzzy brunch, honey walnut shrimp and waffles go so well together the dish feels instantly familiar — and instantly essential.
Born and raised in Hawai'i, Peel was the right-hand man for some of the biggest names in Honolulu, as well as a culinary instructor and chef wrangler for the star-studded Hawai'i Food and Wine Festival. His background is like many raised here, grounded in the Islands and exposed to the world. His omelets are actually silky chawanmushi, topped with everything from mentaiko cream and ikura to mushrooms and mornay. At the izakaya-inspired dinner service, local abalone becomes a clever play on oysters Rockefeller, flooded with butter and snowed with garlicky kale and a local Tomme. And Peel transforms ‘ulu (breadfruit), a culturally significant but notoriously dense and starchy staple, into impossibly airy fried puffs that, when served with a sweetly tangy barbecue sauce, somehow taste Italian. It’s appropriate that Nami Kaze opened after the pandemic forced Hawai'i to turn inward; Peel has long cooked for his community first, with their ingredients, in their language. And in continuing to do so at Nami Kaze, he has created a restaurant that anyone, local or not, can appreciate. — Martha Cheng
Nami Kaze
Honolulu, Hawai'i
Photography by Steve Czerniak
Nami Kaze
1135 N. Nimitz Highway
honolulu, hawai'i
Photography by WonHo Frank Lee
Don’t bother trying to make sense of Pijja Palace. Owner Avish Naran’s vision of a sports bar is one where TV screens glow against minimalist decor and the kebab-seasoned lamb sliders ooze with Amul cheese. The crowd, which runs the gamut from fashionably scruffy locals to multigenerational families, especially from the South Asian community, sits tightly packed in the pastel-smacked dining room, formerly a foot clinic nestled in a still-operational Comfort Inn motel. Naran and chef Miles Shorey have captured LA’s sensibility with their oddball setup and their flavor-packed American cooking, where Indian spices, bar food, and Italian American classics all collide with imaginative charm.
Thick dosa-battered onion rings with sweet mango chutney and Insta-famous rigatoni in malai tomato sauce are so freaking delicious that trying to figure out whether labels like “fusion” suit them is a waste of time. Better to just dig into the Green Chutney Pijja pie, a pizza topped with punchy green chile chutney. It’s a combo that dovetails with such ease and elegance that it’s not hard to imagine the likes of Domino’s taking it mainstream. Charred “red wings,” heady with the scent of garam masala and Kashmiri red chile, are equally genius, and the zing of achaari Buffalo tenders is wonderfully tempered by curry leaf ranch dip or Stilton-tinted yogurt. For Angelenos, Pijja Palace’s playful, no-holds-barred cooking tastes just right; for the rest of the country, it might just taste like the future. — Matthew Kang
Pijja Palace
Los Angeles, California
Pijja Palace
2711 W. Sunset Boulevard
Los Angeles, California
Any memorable restaurant has an element of surprise; Pijja Palace has a secret menu. Say “Debbie Slater” for a chance to try a totally off-script cocktail. It’s a bit easier to score the hush-hush banoffee pie, a banana-filled, whip-topped nod to Avish Naran and Miles Shorey’s shared British roots. — Cathy Chaplin
The Tipping Point
The Tipping Point