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9 dinge wat u nie geweet het oor Poke, The New Food Craze uit Hawaii nie

9 dinge wat u nie geweet het oor Poke, The New Food Craze uit Hawaii nie


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Hierdie rou visslaai neem Amerika met storm

As u nie vertroud is met poke (uitgespreek PO-kay) nie, is dit tyd dat u leer wat hierdie Hawaiiaanse stapelvoedsel is. Nie net omdat dit al hoe gewilder word op die vasteland nie, maar omdat dit heerlik, veelsydig, gesond is en net een van jou nuwe gunstelingvoedsel kan word.

9 dinge wat u nie van Poke geweet het nie

As u nie vertroud is met poke (uitgespreek PO-kay) nie, is dit tyd dat u leer wat hierdie Hawaiiaanse stapelvoedsel is. Nie net omdat dit al hoe gewilder word op die vasteland nie, maar omdat dit heerlik, veelsydig, gesond is en net een van jou nuwe gunstelingvoedsel kan word.

Dit het ontstaan ​​as 'n Fisherman's Snack

Alhoewel die oorsprong van poke nogal 'n raaisel bly, word daar algemeen geglo dat dit die begin daarvan was vissers, wat die vars afsnitte uit hul vang as 'n versnapering sou geur en eet.

Dit is alomteenwoordig in Hawaii

In Hawaii, is poke oral: Die gemiddeld supermark kan tot 20 tuisgemaakte variëteite in voorraad hê, en in die hele staat kan u skurwe en versorgingswinkels vind (u kan selfs 'n stok by Costco vind!). Die bekendste poke shack in Hawaii, genaamd Da Poke Shack, het pas 'n tweede plek geopen en bied 'n paar dosyn variëteite aan.

Dit het baie Asiatiese eweknieë

Poke verteenwoordig sterk die Asiatiese invloed op die Hawaise kombuis. In Japannees chirashiByvoorbeeld, snye rou vis en geurmiddels word bo rys bedien, en in Koreaanse hoedeopbap word gemarineerde rou vis bo rys bedien.

Daar is niks anders presies soos dit nie

Alhoewel daar wêreldwyd soortgelyke geregte te vinde is, is daar niks soos poke nie. Dit is sy eie gereg, en hoewel dit 'n paar het Asiatiese temas aangaan, dit is uniek Hawaiiaans.

Die variasies is letterlik oneindig

Terwyl die meeste potwinkels ongeveer 20 variëteite bereik, is die moontlikhede oneindig. Enige vorm van seekos kan gebruik word, en die meng-ins kan die spektrum van tradisioneel tot avant-garde verloop.

U kan dit maklik tuis maak

Een van die redes waarom poke -restaurante so gereeld opduik, is die feit dat die gereg so maklik is om te maak. Solank u vis van sushi het, kan u dit self in stukke sny pas dit na hartelus aan.

Daar is 'n Poke Truck in Seattle

In Seattle loop 'n vragmotor genaamd Poke to the Max deur die strate en is 'n groot sukses. Bestuur deur die legendariese restaurateur Sam Choy, 'n verskeidenheid Hawaise geregte word aangebied sowel as ahi -tuna en salmstok in 'n verskeidenheid toepassings. Hulle sal dit selfs vir u kook as u wil!

'N Major League -bofbalstadion verkoop dit

U kan tans slegs 'n bal in 'n groot liga kry: Pecto Park, waar die San Diego Padres speel. By Die stoep in linkerveld, vind u "tacos" van ahi -tuna langs Tijuana -honde, sappige Lucy -hamburgers en hoenderbroodjies.

Dit kan net die volgende groot 'vinnig-toevallige' neiging word

Die 'vinnig-toevallige' eet-neiging is in volle krag, en sommige entrepreneurs is besig met hierdie nuwe, opwindende en volledig aanpasbare gereg as die volgende groot vinnig-gemaklike kos. U kan u eie vis en meng-in kies, dit is gesond, dit hoef nie gaar te word nie, en daar is baie geleenthede vir kettings om hul eie draai te maak. Nuwe ondernemings probeer dit probeer, soos kettings insluit Pokéworks (met plekke in Noord -Kalifornië en New York) Wysefish Poké (in New York), en Sweetfin in Santa Monica.


Poke 123: regte Hawaiiaanse kos voordat SPAM kom

Plek

Steek 123 Coronado

1009 Orange Avenue, San Diego

Gewoonlik, as ek aan Hawaiiaanse kos dink, dink ek aan SPAM op rys, hamburgersteak op rys wat in sous verdrink word, adobo -bord met rys en 'n "slaai" van mac en kaas. Heerlik, maar ons praat nie oor gesondheidskos nie.

Toe val ek hier in. Poke 123. Splinternuut, met 'n splinternuwe manier van eet. Jy kan sê pre-Europees. Pro-gesond.

Twee afgetrede Navy -ouens het dit pas in Orange Avenue in Coronado geopen (hulle het hul eerste restaurant 18 maande gelede in IB geopen, uitgebrei na Liberty Station in 2018 en nou hier). Natuurlik is poke die ding op die oomblik. U het Poke Etc, die Sweetfin Poke -ketting, Good Time Poke, aan en aan. Die eerste ding is dat jy gereed moet wees om rou te eet. Vir my, geen probleem nie. Sashimi, ceviche, steak tartare, gravlax, carpaccio, dieselfde.

My vriendin Annie, nie soseer nie. Die enigste ding wat sy rou sal eet, is blaarslaai. Wat ook al, ons gaan na hierdie hoekige ingang, alles vars geverf in wit en blues, betyds vir happy hour (16-19 uur, elke dag). Ek hou daarvan dat hulle 'n patio buite het (met 'n verwarmer).

"Maar het hulle slaai?" sê Annie.

'Kyk net,' sê ek. Omdat dit alles hier uiteengesit is, van stukke gemarineerde ahi -tuna tot groen seewier. U sien: geen kooktoerusting soos stowe nie. Ons eet koue kalkoen. Goed, koue tuna.

“Waar begin ons?” Ek vra die gal, Paula.

'Aan die einde,' sê sy. “Kies jou styl. Rolbakke, norittos of golwe. Kies dan u proteïen: seekos, hoender of veganistiese tofu.

“Goed. Rolbal kry ek, ”sê ek. “Maar ook nie? waai? ”

Ek weet nie. Ek is waarskynlik die enigste ou wat tien jaar gelede nie hiervan spoed gekry het nie. Annie ook, uit die uitdrukking op haar gesig.

"Noritto is soos 'nori' - seewier - en 'burrito.' Steek in 'n seewier en ryswrap," verduidelik Paula. Sy wys na - o ja - prente op die muur. En, aha. 'The wave' word in U-vormige rystortillas gesteek, met donkergroen seewieromhulsels. Hawaiiaanse tacos, sou jy dalk sê.

Norittos en golwe kos $ 11,99. U kry drie "tacos" in die golfooreenkoms. Skottels begin ook by $ 11,99, insluitend twee roomys bolletjies proteïene. U kan opgradeer na drie skepe vir $ 13,99, vier vir $ 15,99.

'Ek wil net 'n slaai hê,' sê Annie. En sy bestel 'n klein slaai ($ 7,99). Maar dan voeg sy die eerste noritto op die bord by: "Kapuni" (dit beteken "gunsteling" in Hawaiiaans). Ag man. Afgesien van die twee bolletjies van u proteïenkeuse, gooi hulle 'krap' -vleis, avokado, komkommer, rou soet ui en gekapte macadamianeute in. En sy kry twee souse by. 'N sesam, en 'n sitrus ponzu.

Nou gryp Paula 'n bamboesmat en lê 'n vierkante seewier, 'n mat gebreekte rys bo -op, dan ahi -tuna en salm en al die ander bestanddele, en rol dit dan op in die bamboesmat, net soos tradisionele sushi -plekke doen .

Vir my potbak (gewone grootte, $ 11,99) kyk ek na die duiselingwekkende lyste keuses wat ek moet maak. Ek kies die pittige tuna en salm vir proteïene, en laat Paula toe. Sy stapel die bruinrys, rysnoedels, nagemaakte krap, seewierslaai, 'n "mangomengsel" van pynappel, rooi soetrissie en soet chilisous, dan beet, skywe skywe, helder oranje masago (vis eiers), groen uie, wasabi , koriander, jalapeños, knapperige knoffel, furikake ('n pittige droë seewier met sesam), heerlike groen sojabone, en die belangrikste smaakmaker, gemmer.

Ons kry ook 'n groot plastiekglas (moet 20 oz.) Sapporo -bier elk wees ($ 6,99 op happy hour). Ooreenkoms! Kon Stone Delicious, of 'n Alesmith .394 teen dieselfde prys gehad het. Of 'n blikkie vir $ 4,99. Of 'n blik vir $ 8,49.

Ons neem dit alles na buite. Die sonsondergang oorstroom die patio. Verwarmers word aangeskakel om die ysige briesie te beveg.

'Al wat ons moet doen, is om dit te eet,' sê Annie. 'Het asseblief die helfte van myne. Ek sal vol wees na die slaai. ”

Goed! Met die snelheid van hebsug gryp ek die helfte, kou dit af. Net om haar te help.

Hier is egter die ding. Anders as die "Hawaiiaanse" kos wat u by bordvoedselkettings kry, voel hierdie goed regtig gesond. Rou tuna, salm, al die groente, vis eiers, sojabone. 'Eintlik is dit die regte Hawaiiaanse kos, voordat buitestaanders daar aankom en beesvleis, SPAM, wat ook al voorstel,' sê Annie. Sy was in Hawaii. 'Hierdie gierigheid is wonderlik, want dit gaan terug na die tyd toe Hawaïese kos Hawaiiaans was. Minder proteïene, meer koolhidrate, baie minder vet. Ek dink dit is pragtig. ”

Natuurlik, in die dag, sny vissers net kleiner rifvis op (steek beteken "in stukke gesny"), en miskien hy is (seekat). Nie tuna nie. Beslis nie salm nie. En beslis geen pynappel-/mangomengsel om kleur by te voeg nie. Maar hey, geen groot misdaad nie. Poke is soos sushi, of pizza. Dit word groot. Breek uit van waar dit begin het.

Ek begin pak, want soos gewoonlik was die oë groter as die maag, en die maag was nie klein nie. Voel soos 'n luislang wat 'n vark ingesluk het. Die smaak wat ek bybly, is gemmer, wasabi, mango, seewier, radyse, soja, knoffel, tuna.

Maar die volgende dag, hey hey! Ek is terug. Moet net die golf "taco" probeer. Ek kry een van elk, nooi. Die "123" (met ahi -tuna), die Cali (met nagemaakte krap) en die pittige (met pittige tuna). En die duisend ander items wat binne -in versteek is. As ek probeer, kan ek net deur twee kom. Wat my iets laat wonder. Ek gaan vra Ruthie die bestuurder.

'O ja,' sê sy. 'U kan 'n enkele bestelling van drie golwe koop en dit met twee van u vriende deel. Geen probleem."

Dit beteken elk vier dollar vir 'n regtig 'taco'. Voeg HH -bier by, en voilà! Fees vir drie vir tien dollar elk.

'As ek daaroor praat, maak ek honger. Ek sak die derde taco af. Bel vir Annie. Bely.


Poke 123: regte Hawaiiaanse kos voordat SPAM kom

Plek

Steek 123 Coronado

1009 Orange Avenue, San Diego

Gewoonlik, as ek aan Hawaiiaanse kos dink, dink ek aan SPAM op rys, hamburgersteak op rys wat in sous verdrink word, adobo -bord met rys en 'n "slaai" van mac en kaas. Heerlik, maar ons praat nie oor gesondheidskos nie.

Toe val ek hier in. Poke 123. Splinternuut, met 'n splinternuwe manier van eet. Jy kan pre-Europees sê. Pro-gesond.

Twee afgetrede Navy -ouens het dit pas in Orange Avenue in Coronado geopen (hulle het hul eerste restaurant 18 maande gelede in IB geopen, uitgebrei na Liberty Station in 2018 en nou hier). Natuurlik is poke die ding op die oomblik. U het Poke Etc, die Sweetfin Poke -ketting, Good Time Poke, aan en aan. Die eerste ding is dat jy gereed moet wees om rou te eet. Vir my, geen probleem nie. Sashimi, ceviche, steak tartare, gravlax, carpaccio, dieselfde.

My vriendin Annie, nie soseer nie. Die enigste ding wat sy rou sal eet, is blaarslaai. Wat ook al, ons gaan na hierdie hoekige ingang, alles vars geverf in wit en blues, betyds vir happy hour (16-19 uur, elke dag). Ek hou daarvan dat hulle 'n patio buite het (met 'n verwarmer).

"Maar het hulle slaai?" sê Annie.

'Kyk net,' sê ek. Omdat dit alles hier uiteengesit is, van stukke gemarineerde ahi -tuna tot groen seewier. U sien: geen kooktoerusting soos stowe nie. Ons eet koue kalkoen. Goed, koue tuna.

“Waar begin ons?” Ek vra die gal, Paula.

'Aan die einde,' sê sy. “Kies jou styl. Rolbakke, norittos of golwe. Kies dan u proteïen: seekos, hoender of veganistiese tofu.

“Goed. Rolbal kry ek, ”sê ek. “Maar ook nie? waai? ”

Ek weet nie. Ek is waarskynlik die enigste ou wat tien jaar gelede nie hiervan spoed gekry het nie. Annie ook, uit die uitdrukking op haar gesig.

"Noritto is soos 'nori' - seewier - en 'burrito.' Steek in 'n seewier en ryswrap," verduidelik Paula. Sy wys na - o ja - prente op die muur. En, aha. 'The wave' word in U-vormige rystortillas gesteek, met donkergroen seewieromhulsels. Hawaiiaanse tacos, sou jy dalk sê.

Norittos en golwe kos $ 11,99. U kry drie "tacos" in die golfooreenkoms. Skottels begin ook by $ 11,99, insluitend twee roomys bolletjies proteïene. U kan opgradeer na drie skepe vir $ 13,99, vier vir $ 15,99.

'Ek wil net 'n slaai hê,' sê Annie. En sy bestel 'n klein slaai ($ 7,99). Maar dan voeg sy die eerste noritto op die bord by: "Kapuni" (dit beteken "gunsteling" in Hawaiiaans). Ag man. Afgesien van die twee bolletjies van u proteïenkeuse, gooi hulle 'krap' vleis, avokado, komkommer, rou soet ui en gekapte macadamianeute in. En sy kry twee souse by. 'N sesam, en 'n sitrus ponzu.

Nou gryp Paula 'n bamboesmat en lê 'n vierkante seewier, 'n mat gebreekte rys bo -op, dan ahi -tuna en salm, en al die ander bestanddele, en rol dit dan op in die bamboesmat, net soos tradisionele sushi -plekke doen .

Vir my potbak (gewone grootte, $ 11,99) kyk ek na die duiselingwekkende lyste keuses wat ek moet maak. Ek kies die pittige tuna en salm vir proteïene, en laat Paula toe. Sy stapel die bruinrys, rysnoedels, nagemaakte krap, seewierslaai, 'n "mangomengsel" van pynappel, rooi soetrissie en soet chilisous, dan beet, skywe skywe, helder oranje masago (vis eiers), groen uie, wasabi , koriander, jalapeños, knapperige knoffel, furikake ('n pittige droë seewier met sesam), heerlike groen sojabone, en die belangrikste smaakmaker, gemmer.

Ons kry ook 'n groot plastiekglas (moet 20 oz.) Sapporo -bier elk wees ($ 6,99 op happy hour). Ooreenkoms! Kon Stone Delicious, of 'n Alesmith .394 teen dieselfde prys gehad het. Of 'n blikkie vir $ 4,99. Of 'n blik vir $ 8,49.

Ons neem dit alles na buite. Sonsondergang oorstroom die patio. Verwarmers word aangeskakel om die ysige briesie te beveg.

'Al wat ons moet doen, is om dit te eet,' sê Annie. 'Het asseblief die helfte van myne. Ek sal vol wees na die slaai. ”

Goed! Met die snelheid van hebsug gryp ek die helfte, kou dit af. Net om haar te help.

Hier is egter die ding. Anders as die "Hawaiiaanse" kos wat u by bordvoedselkettings kry, voel hierdie goed regtig gesond. Rou tuna, salm, al die groente, vis eiers, sojabone. 'Eintlik is dit die regte Hawaiiaanse kos, voordat buitestaanders daar aankom en beesvleis, SPAM, wat ook al voorstel,' sê Annie. Sy was in Hawaii. 'Hierdie gierigheid is wonderlik, want dit gaan terug na die tyd toe Hawaïese kos Hawaiiaans was. Minder proteïene, meer koolhidrate, baie minder vet. Ek dink dit is pragtig. ”

Natuurlik, in die dag, sny vissers net kleiner rifvis op (steek beteken "in stukke gesny"), en miskien hy is (seekat). Nie tuna nie. Beslis nie salm nie. En beslis geen pynappel-/mangomengsel om kleur by te voeg nie. Maar hey, geen groot misdaad nie. Poke is soos sushi, of pizza. Dit word groot. Breek uit van waar dit begin het.

Ek begin pak, want soos gewoonlik was die oë groter as die maag, en die maag was nie klein nie. Voel soos 'n luislang wat 'n vark ingesluk het. Die smaak wat ek bybly, is gemmer, wasabi, mango, seewier, radyse, soja, knoffel, tuna.

Maar die volgende dag, hey hey! Ek is terug. Moet net die golf "taco" probeer. Ek kry een van elk, nooi. Die "123" (met ahi -tuna), die Cali (met nabootsingskrabbe) en die pittige (met pittige tuna). En die duisend ander items wat binne -in versteek is. As ek probeer, kan ek net deur twee kom. Dit laat my iets wonder. Ek gaan vra Ruthie die bestuurder.

'O ja,' sê sy. 'U kan 'n enkele bestelling van drie golwe koop en dit met twee van u vriende deel. Geen probleem."

Dit beteken elk vier dollar vir 'n regtig 'taco'. Voeg HH -bier by, en voilà! Fees vir drie vir tien dollar elk.

'As ek daaroor praat, maak ek honger. Ek sak die derde taco af. Bel vir Annie. Bely.


Poke 123: regte Hawaiiaanse kos voordat SPAM kom

Plek

Steek 123 Coronado

1009 Orange Avenue, San Diego

Gewoonlik, as ek aan Hawaiiaanse kos dink, dink ek aan SPAM op rys, hamburgersteak op rys wat in sous verdrink is, adobo -varkbord met rys en 'n "slaai" van mac en kaas. Heerlik, maar ons praat nie oor gesondheidskos nie.

Toe val ek hier in. Poke 123. Splinternuut, met 'n splinternuwe manier van eet. Jy kan sê pre-Europees. Pro-gesond.

Twee afgetrede Navy -ouens het dit pas in Orange Avenue in Coronado geopen (hulle het hul eerste restaurant 18 maande gelede in IB geopen, uitgebrei na Liberty Station in 2018 en nou hier). Natuurlik is poke die ding op die oomblik. U het Poke Etc, die Sweetfin Poke -ketting, Good Time Poke, aan en aan. Die eerste ding is dat jy gereed moet wees om rou te eet. Vir my, geen probleem nie. Sashimi, ceviche, steak tartare, gravlax, carpaccio, dieselfde.

My vriendin Annie, nie soseer nie. Die enigste ding wat sy rou sal eet, is blaarslaai. Wat ook al, ons gaan na hierdie hoekige ingang, alles vars geverf in wit en blues, betyds vir happy hour (16-19 uur, elke dag). Ek hou daarvan dat hulle 'n patio buite het (met 'n verwarmer).

"Maar het hulle slaai?" sê Annie.

'Kyk net,' sê ek. Omdat dit alles hier uiteengesit is, van stukke gemarineerde ahi -tuna tot groen seewier. U sien: geen kooktoerusting soos stowe nie. Ons eet koue kalkoen. Goed, koue tuna.

“Waar begin ons?” Ek vra die gal, Paula.

'Aan die einde,' sê sy. “Kies jou styl. Rolbakke, norittos of golwe. Kies dan u proteïen: seekos, hoender of veganistiese tofu.

“Goed. Rolbal kry ek, ”sê ek. “Maar ook nie? waai? ”

Ek weet nie. Ek is waarskynlik die enigste ou wat tien jaar gelede nie hiervan spoed gekry het nie. Annie ook, uit die uitdrukking op haar gesig.

"Noritto is soos 'nori' - seewier - en 'burrito.' Steek in 'n seewier en ryswrap," verduidelik Paula. Sy wys na - o ja - prente op die muur. En, aha. 'The wave' word in U-vormige rystortillas gesteek, met donkergroen seewieromhulsels. Hawaiiaanse tacos, sou jy dalk sê.

Norittos en golwe kos $ 11,99. U kry drie "tacos" in die golfooreenkoms. Skottels begin ook by $ 11,99, insluitend twee roomys bolletjies proteïene. U kan opgradeer na drie skepe vir $ 13,99, vier vir $ 15,99.

'Ek wil net 'n slaai hê,' sê Annie. En sy bestel 'n klein slaai ($ 7,99). Maar dan voeg sy die eerste noritto op die bord by: "Kapuni" (dit beteken "gunsteling" in Hawaiiaans). Ag man. Afgesien van die twee bolletjies van u proteïenkeuse, gooi hulle 'krap' -vleis, avokado, komkommer, rou soet ui en gekapte macadamianeute in. En sy kry twee souse by. 'N sesam, en 'n sitrus ponzu.

Nou gryp Paula 'n bamboesmat en lê 'n vierkante seewier, 'n mat gebreekte rys bo -op, dan ahi -tuna en salm, en al die ander bestanddele, en rol dit dan op in die bamboesmat, net soos tradisionele sushi -plekke doen .

Vir my potbak (gewone grootte, $ 11,99) kyk ek na die duiselingwekkende lyste keuses wat ek moet maak. Ek kies die pittige tuna en salm vir proteïene, en laat Paula toe. Sy stapel die bruinrys, rysnoedels, nagemaakte krap, seewierslaai, 'n "mangomengsel" van pynappel, rooipeper en soet chili -sous, dan beet, radyse -skywe, helder oranje masago (vis -eiers), groen uie, wasabi , koriander, jalapeños, knapperige knoffel, furikake ('n pittige droë seewier met sesam), heerlike groen sojabone, en die belangrikste smaakmaker, gemmer.

Ons kry ook 'n groot plastiekglas (moet 20 oz.) Sapporo -bier elk wees ($ 6,99 op happy hour). Ooreenkoms! Kon Stone Delicious, of 'n Alesmith .394 teen dieselfde prys gehad het. Of 'n blikkie vir $ 4,99. Of 'n blik vir $ 8,49.

Ons neem dit alles na buite. Die sonsondergang oorstroom die patio. Verwarmers word aangeskakel om die ysige briesie te beveg.

'Al wat ons moet doen, is om dit te eet,' sê Annie. 'Hou asseblief die helfte van myne. Ek sal vol wees na die slaai. ”

Goed! Met die snelheid van hebsug gryp ek die helfte, kou dit af. Net om haar te help.

Hier is egter die ding. Anders as die "Hawaiiaanse" kos wat u by bordvoedselkettings kry, voel hierdie goed regtig gesond. Rou tuna, salm, al die groente, vis eiers, sojabone. 'Eintlik is dit die regte Hawaiiaanse kos, voordat buitestaanders daar aankom en beesvleis, SPAM, wat ook al voorstel,' sê Annie. Sy was in Hawaii. 'Hierdie gierigheid is wonderlik, want dit gaan terug na die tyd toe Hawaïese kos Hawaiiaans was. Minder proteïene, meer koolhidrate, baie minder vet. Ek dink dit is pragtig. ”

Natuurlik het vissers vroeër net kleiner rifvisse gesny (steek beteken "in stukke gesny"), en miskien hy is (seekat). Nie tuna nie. Beslis nie salm nie. En beslis geen pynappel-/mangomengsel om kleur by te voeg nie. Maar hey, geen groot misdaad nie. Poke is soos sushi, of pizza. Dit word groot. Breek uit van waar dit begin het.

Ek begin pak, want soos gewoonlik was die oë groter as die maag, en die maag was nie klein nie. Voel soos 'n luislang wat 'n vark ingesluk het. Die smaak wat ek bybly, is gemmer, wasabi, mango, seewier, radyse, soja, knoffel, tuna.

Maar die volgende dag, hey hey! Ek is terug. Moet net die golf "taco" probeer. Ek kry een van elk, nooi. Die "123" (met ahi -tuna), die Cali (met nagemaakte krap) en die pittige (met pittige tuna). En die duisend ander items wat binne -in versteek is. As ek probeer, kan ek net deur twee kom. Wat my iets laat wonder. Ek gaan vra Ruthie die bestuurder.

'O ja,' sê sy. 'U kan 'n enkele bestelling van drie golwe koop en dit met twee van u vriende deel. Geen probleem."

Dit beteken elk vier dollar vir 'n regtig 'taco'. Voeg HH -bier by, en voilà! Fees vir drie vir tien dollar elk.

'As ek daaroor praat, maak ek honger. Ek sak die derde taco af. Bel vir Annie. Bely.


Poke 123: regte Hawaiiaanse kos voordat SPAM kom

Plek

Steek 123 Coronado

1009 Orange Avenue, San Diego

Gewoonlik, as ek aan Hawaiiaanse kos dink, dink ek aan SPAM op rys, hamburgersteak op rys wat in sous verdrink word, adobo -bord met rys en 'n "slaai" van mac en kaas. Heerlik, maar ons praat nie oor gesondheidskos nie.

Toe val ek hier in. Poke 123. Splinternuut, met 'n splinternuwe manier van eet. Jy kan sê pre-Europees. Pro-gesond.

Twee afgetrede Navy -ouens het dit pas in Orange Avenue in Coronado geopen (hulle het hul eerste restaurant 18 maande gelede in IB geopen, uitgebrei na Liberty Station in 2018 en nou hier). Natuurlik is poke die ding op die oomblik. U het Poke Etc, die Sweetfin Poke -ketting, Good Time Poke, aan en aan. Die eerste ding is dat jy gereed moet wees om rou te eet. Vir my, geen probleem nie. Sashimi, ceviche, steak tartare, gravlax, carpaccio, dieselfde.

My vriendin Annie, nie soseer nie. Die enigste ding wat sy rou sal eet, is blaarslaai. Wat ook al, ons gaan na hierdie hoekige ingang, alles vars geverf in wit en blues, betyds vir happy hour (16-19 uur, elke dag). Ek hou daarvan dat hulle 'n patio buite het (met 'n verwarmer).

"Maar het hulle slaai?" sê Annie.

'Kyk net,' sê ek. Omdat dit alles hier uiteengesit is, van stukke gemarineerde ahi -tuna tot groen seewier. U sien: geen kooktoerusting soos stowe nie. Ons eet koue kalkoen. Goed, koue tuna.

“Waar begin ons?” Ek vra die gal, Paula.

'Aan die einde,' sê sy. “Kies jou styl. Rolbakke, norittos of golwe. Kies dan u proteïen: seekos, hoender of veganistiese tofu.

“Goed. Rolbal kry ek, ”sê ek. “Maar ook nie? waai? ”

Ek weet nie. Ek is waarskynlik die enigste ou wat tien jaar gelede nie hiervan spoed gekry het nie. Annie ook, uit die uitdrukking op haar gesig.

"Noritto is soos 'nori' - seewier - en 'burrito.' Steek in 'n seewier en ryswrap," verduidelik Paula. Sy wys na - o ja - prente op die muur. En, aha. 'The wave' word in U-vormige rystortillas gesteek, met donkergroen seewieromhulsels. Hawaiiaanse tacos, sou jy dalk sê.

Norittos en golwe kos $ 11,99. U kry drie "tacos" in die golfooreenkoms. Skottels begin ook by $ 11,99, insluitend twee roomys bolletjies proteïene. U kan opgradeer na drie skepe vir $ 13,99, vier vir $ 15,99.

'Ek wil net 'n slaai hê,' sê Annie. En sy bestel 'n klein slaai ($ 7,99). Maar dan voeg sy die eerste noritto op die bord by: "Kapuni" (dit beteken "gunsteling" in Hawaiiaans). Ag man. Afgesien van die twee bolletjies van u proteïenkeuse, gooi hulle 'krap' vleis, avokado, komkommer, rou soet ui en gekapte macadamianeute in. En sy kry twee souse by. 'N sesam, en 'n sitrus ponzu.

Nou gryp Paula 'n bamboesmat en lê 'n vierkante seewier, 'n mat gebreekte rys bo -op, dan ahi -tuna en salm en al die ander bestanddele, en rol dit dan op in die bamboesmat, net soos tradisionele sushi -plekke doen .

Vir my potbak (gewone grootte, $ 11,99) kyk ek na die duiselingwekkende lyste keuses wat ek moet maak. Ek kies die pittige tuna en salm vir proteïene, en laat Paula toe. Sy stapel die bruinrys, rysnoedels, nagemaakte krap, seewierslaai, 'n "mangomengsel" van pynappel, rooi soetrissie en soet chilisous, dan beet, skywe skywe, helder oranje masago (vis eiers), groen uie, wasabi , koriander, jalapeños, knapperige knoffel, furikake ('n pittige droë seewier met sesam), heerlike groen sojabone, en die belangrikste smaakmaker, gemmer.

Ons kry ook 'n groot plastiekglas (moet 20 oz.) Sapporo -bier elk wees ($ 6,99 op happy hour). Ooreenkoms! Kon Stone Delicious, of 'n Alesmith .394 teen dieselfde prys gehad het. Of 'n blikkie vir $ 4,99. Of 'n blik vir $ 8,49.

Ons neem dit alles na buite. Die sonsondergang oorstroom die patio. Verwarmers word aangeskakel om die ysige briesie te beveg.

'Al wat ons moet doen, is om dit te eet,' sê Annie. 'Hou asseblief die helfte van myne. Ek sal vol wees na die slaai. ”

Goed! Met die snelheid van hebsug gryp ek die helfte, kou dit af. Net om haar te help.

Hier is die ding wel. Anders as die "Hawaiiaanse" kos wat u by bordvoedselkettings kry, voel hierdie goed regtig gesond. Rou tuna, salm, al die groente, vis eiers, sojabone. 'Eintlik is dit die regte Hawaiiaanse kos, voordat buitestaanders daar aankom en beesvleis, SPAM, wat ook al voorstel,' sê Annie. Sy was in Hawaii. 'Hierdie gierigheid is wonderlik, want dit gaan terug na die tyd toe Hawaïese kos Hawaiiaans was. Minder proteïene, meer koolhidrate, baie minder vet. Ek dink dit is pragtig. ”

Natuurlik het vissers vroeër net kleiner rifvisse gesny (steek beteken "in stukke gesny"), en miskien hy is (seekat). Nie tuna nie. Beslis nie salm nie. En beslis geen pynappel-/mangomengsel om kleur by te voeg nie. Maar hey, geen groot misdaad nie. Poke is soos sushi, of pizza. Dit word groot. Breek uit van waar dit begin het.

Ek begin pak, want soos gewoonlik was die oë groter as die maag, en die maag was nie klein nie. Voel soos 'n luislang wat 'n vark ingesluk het. Die smaak wat ek bybly, is gemmer, wasabi, mango, seewier, radyse, soja, knoffel, tuna.

Maar die volgende dag, hey hey! Ek is terug. Moet net die golf "taco" probeer. Ek kry een van elk, nooi. Die "123" (met ahi -tuna), die Cali (met nabootsingskrabbe) en die pittige (met pittige tuna). En die duisend ander items wat binne -in versteek is. As ek probeer, kan ek net deur twee kom. Wat my iets laat wonder. Ek gaan vra Ruthie die bestuurder.

'O ja,' sê sy. 'U kan 'n enkele bestelling van drie golwe koop en dit met twee van u vriende deel. Geen probleem."

Dit beteken elk vier dollar vir 'n regtig 'taco'. Voeg HH -bier by, en voilà! Fees vir drie vir tien dollar elk.

'As ek daaroor praat, maak ek honger. Ek sak die derde taco af. Bel vir Annie. Bely.


Poke 123: regte Hawaiiaanse kos voordat SPAM kom

Plek

Steek 123 Coronado

1009 Orange Avenue, San Diego

Gewoonlik, as ek aan Hawaiiaanse kos dink, dink ek aan SPAM op rys, hamburgersteak op rys wat in sous verdrink word, adobo -bord met rys en 'n "slaai" van mac en kaas. Heerlik, maar ons praat nie oor gesondheidskos nie.

Toe val ek hier in. Poke 123. Splinternuut, met 'n splinternuwe manier van eet. Jy kan pre-Europees sê. Pro-gesond.

Twee afgetrede Navy -ouens het dit pas in Orange Avenue in Coronado geopen (hulle het hul eerste restaurant 18 maande gelede in IB geopen, uitgebrei na Liberty Station in 2018 en nou hier). Natuurlik is poke die ding op die oomblik. U het Poke Etc, die Sweetfin Poke -ketting, Good Time Poke, aan en aan. Die eerste ding is dat jy gereed moet wees om rou te eet. Vir my, geen probleem nie. Sashimi, ceviche, steak tartare, gravlax, carpaccio, dieselfde.

My vriendin Annie, nie soseer nie. Die enigste ding wat sy rou sal eet, is blaarslaai. Wat ook al, ons gaan na hierdie hoekige ingang, alles vars geverf in wit en blues, betyds vir happy hour (16-19 uur, elke dag). Ek hou daarvan dat hulle 'n patio buite het (met 'n verwarmer).

"Maar het hulle slaai?" sê Annie.

'Kyk net,' sê ek. Omdat dit alles hier uiteengesit is, van stukke gemarineerde ahi -tuna tot groen seewier. U sien: geen kooktoerusting soos stowe nie. Ons eet koue kalkoen. Goed, koue tuna.

“Waar begin ons?” Ek vra die gal, Paula.

'Aan die einde,' sê sy. “Kies jou styl. Rolbakke, norittos of golwe. Kies dan u proteïen: seekos, hoender of veganistiese tofu.

“Goed. Rolbal kry ek, ”sê ek. “Maar ook nie? waai? ”

Ek weet nie. Ek is waarskynlik die enigste ou wat tien jaar gelede nie hiervan spoed gekry het nie. Annie ook, uit die uitdrukking op haar gesig.

"Noritto is soos 'nori' - seewier - en 'burrito.' Steek in 'n seewier en ryswrap," verduidelik Paula. Sy wys na - o ja - prente op die muur. En, aha. 'The wave' word in U-vormige rystortillas gesteek, met donkergroen seewieromhulsels. Hawaiiaanse tacos, sou jy dalk sê.

Norittos en golwe kos $ 11,99. U kry drie "tacos" in die golfooreenkoms. Skottels begin ook by $ 11,99, insluitend twee roomys bolletjies proteïene. U kan opgradeer na drie skepe vir $ 13,99, vier vir $ 15,99.

'Ek wil net 'n slaai hê,' sê Annie. En sy bestel 'n klein slaai ($ 7,99). Maar dan voeg sy die eerste noritto op die bord by, "Kapuni" (dit beteken "gunsteling" in Hawaiiaans). Ag man. Afgesien van die twee bolletjies van u proteïenkeuse, gooi hulle 'krap' -vleis, avokado, komkommer, rou soet ui en gekapte macadamianeute in. En sy kry twee souse by. 'N sesam, en 'n sitrus ponzu.

Nou gryp Paula 'n bamboesmat en lê 'n vierkante seewier, 'n mat gebreekte rys bo -op, dan ahi -tuna en salm, en al die ander bestanddele, en rol dit dan op in die bamboesmat, net soos tradisionele sushi -plekke doen .

Vir my potbak (gewone grootte, $ 11,99) kyk ek na die duiselingwekkende lyste keuses wat ek moet maak. Ek kies die pittige tuna en salm vir proteïene, en laat Paula toe. Sy stapel die bruinrys, rysnoedels, nagemaakte krap, seewierslaai, 'n "mangomengsel" van pynappel, rooi soetrissie en soet chilisous, dan beet, skywe skywe, helder oranje masago (vis eiers), groen uie, wasabi , koriander, jalapeños, knapperige knoffel, furikake ('n pittige droë seewier met sesam), heerlike groen sojabone, en die belangrikste smaakmaker, gemmer.

Ons kry ook 'n groot plastiekglas (moet 20 oz.) Sapporo -bier elk wees ($ 6,99 op happy hour). Ooreenkoms! Kon Stone Delicious, of 'n Alesmith .394 teen dieselfde prys gehad het. Of 'n blikkie vir $ 4,99. Of 'n blik vir $ 8,49.

Ons neem dit alles na buite. Sonsondergang oorstroom die patio. Verwarmers word aangeskakel om die ysige briesie te beveg.

'Al wat ons moet doen, is om dit te eet,' sê Annie. 'Hou asseblief die helfte van myne. Ek sal vol wees na die slaai. ”

Goed! Met die snelheid van hebsug gryp ek die helfte, kou dit af. Net om haar te help.

Hier is die ding wel. Anders as die "Hawaiiaanse" kos wat u by bordvoedselkettings kry, voel hierdie goed regtig gesond. Rou tuna, salm, al die groente, vis eiers, sojabone. 'Eintlik is dit die regte Hawaiiaanse kos, voordat buitestaanders daar aankom en beesvleis, SPAM, wat ook al voorstel,' sê Annie. Sy was in Hawaii. 'Hierdie gierigheid is wonderlik, want dit gaan terug na die tyd toe Hawaïese kos Hawaiiaans was. Minder proteïene, meer koolhidrate, baie minder vet. Ek dink dit is pragtig. ”

Natuurlik het vissers vroeër net kleiner rifvisse gesny (steek beteken "in stukke gesny"), en miskien hy is (seekat). Nie tuna nie. Beslis nie salm nie. En beslis geen pynappel-/mangomengsel om kleur by te voeg nie. Maar hey, geen groot misdaad nie. Poke is soos sushi, of pizza. Dit word groot. Breek uit van waar dit begin het.

Ek begin pak, want soos gewoonlik was die oë groter as die maag, en die maag was nie klein nie. Voel soos 'n luislang wat 'n vark ingesluk het. The tastes that stay with me are ginger, wasabi, mango, seaweed, radishes, soy, garlic, tuna.

But next day, hey hey! I’m back. Just have to try the wave “taco.” I get one of each, natch. The “123,” (with ahi tuna), the Cali (with imitation crab), and the spicy (with spicy tuna). And the zillion other items hidden inside. Hard as I try, I can only get through two. Which makes me wonder something. I go ask Ruthie the manager.

“Oh yes,” she says. “You can buy a single order of three waves and share it with two of your buddies. Geen probleem."

Which would mean four bucks each for a really filling “taco.” Add HH beers, and voilà! Feast for three for ten bucks each.

‘Course talking about it makes me hungry. I down the third taco. Call Annie. Confess.


Poke 123: real Hawaiian food before SPAM arrived

Plek

Poke 123 Coronado

1009 Orange Avenue, San Diego

Usually, when I think Hawaiian food, I’m thinking SPAM on rice, hamburger steak on rice drowned in gravy, pork adobo plate with rice and a “salad” of mac and cheese. Delish, but no way we’re talking health food.

Then I dropped in here. Poke 123. Brand new, with a brand old way of eating. You could say pre-European. Pro-healthy.

Two retired Navy guys just opened it on Orange Avenue in Coronado (they opened their first poke restaurant 18 months ago in IB, expanded to Liberty Station in 2018, and now here). Of course, poke is the thing right now. You have Poke Etc, the Sweetfin Poke chain, Good Time Poke, on and on. First thing is, you’ve gotta be ready to eat raw. For me, no probbo. Sashimi, ceviche, steak tartare, gravlax, carpaccio, same-same.

My friend Annie, not so much. Only thing she’ll eat raw is lettuce. Whatever, we head in to this angled entrance, all fresh-painted in whites and blues, right on time for happy hour (4-7 pm, every day). What I like is they have a little patio outside (with a heater).

“But do they have salad?” says Annie.

“Just look,” I say. Because it’s all laid out here, from chunks of marinated ahi tuna to green seaweed. You notice: no cooking equipment, like stoves. We’re eating cold-turkey. Okay, cold-tuna.

“Where do we start?” I ask the gal, Paula.

“At this end,” she says. “Choose your style. Bowls, norittos, or waves. Then choose your protein: seafood, chicken, or vegan tofu.”

“Goed. Bowls I get,” I say. “But noritto? wave?”

Ek weet nie. I’m probably the only guy who didn’t get up to speed on this ten years ago. Annie too, from the expression on her face.

“Noritto is like ‘nori’ — seaweed — and ‘burrito.’ Poke in a seaweed and rice wrap,” Paula explains. She points to — oh yeah — pictures on the wall. And, aha. “The wave” is poke in U-shaped rice tortillas, with dark green seaweed wrappers. Hawaiian tacos, you might say.

Norittos and waves cost $11.99. You get three “tacos” in the wave deal. Bowls start at $11.99 too, including two ice cream scoops of proteins. You can upgrade to three scoops for $13.99, four for $15.99.

“I just want a salad,” says Annie. And she orders a kid-size salad ($7.99). But then she adds the first noritto on the board, “Kapuni” (it means “favorite” in Hawaiian). Oh man. Apart from the two scoops of your choice of protein, they throw in “crab” meat, avocado, cucumber, raw sweet onion, and chopped macadamia nuts. And she gets to add two sauces. A sesame, and a citrus ponzu.

Now Paula grabs a bamboo mat and lays down a square of seaweed, a mat of crushed cooked rice on top, then ahi tuna and salmon, and all the other ingredients, then rolls it up in the bamboo mat, just like traditional sushi places do.

For my poke bowl (regular size, $11.99), I look at the dizzying lists of choices I’ve got to make. I pick the spicy tuna and salmon for protein, and then let Paula have at it. She piles up the brown rice, rice noodles, imitation crab, seaweed salad, a “mango mix” of pineapple, red pepper, and sweet chili sauce, then beets, radish slices, bright orange masago (fish eggs), green onions, wasabi, cilantro, jalapeños, crunchy garlic, furikake (a tangy dry seaweed with sesame), delish green soy beans, and the most important taste-maker, ginger.

We also get a large plastic glass (must be 20oz) of Sapporo beer each ($6.99 at happy hour). Deal! Could have had Stone Delicious, or an Alesmith .394 at the same price. Or a can for $4.99. Or a can of sake for $8.49.

We take it all outside. Setting sun’s flooding the patio. Heaters are turned on to fight the icy little breeze.

“Now all we’ve got to do is eat this,” says Annie. “Please have half mine. I’ll be full after the salad.”

All right! At the speed of greed I grab half, chow it down. Just to help her out.

Here’s the thing though. Unlike the “Hawaiian” food you get at plate food chains, this stuff really feels healthy. Raw tuna, salmon, all those veggies, fish eggs, soy beans. “Actually, this is the real Hawaiian food, before outsiders arrived and introduced beef, SPAM, whatever,” says Annie. She’s been to Hawaii. “This poke craze is great, because it’s going back to the time when Hawaiian food was Hawaiian. Less protein, more carbs, way less fat. I think it’s beautiful.”

Of course, back in the day, fishermen just cut up smaller reef fish (poke means “cut into chunks”), and maybe he’e (octopus). Not tuna. Definitely not salmon. And definitely no pineapple/mango mix to add color. But hey, no big crime. Poke’s like sushi, or pizza. It’s growing up. Breaking out from where it started.

I start packing, because as usual, eyes were bigger than stomach, and stomach ain’t small. Feel like a python that swallowed a pig. The tastes that stay with me are ginger, wasabi, mango, seaweed, radishes, soy, garlic, tuna.

But next day, hey hey! I’m back. Just have to try the wave “taco.” I get one of each, natch. The “123,” (with ahi tuna), the Cali (with imitation crab), and the spicy (with spicy tuna). And the zillion other items hidden inside. Hard as I try, I can only get through two. Which makes me wonder something. I go ask Ruthie the manager.

“Oh yes,” she says. “You can buy a single order of three waves and share it with two of your buddies. Geen probleem."

Which would mean four bucks each for a really filling “taco.” Add HH beers, and voilà! Feast for three for ten bucks each.

‘Course talking about it makes me hungry. I down the third taco. Call Annie. Confess.


Poke 123: real Hawaiian food before SPAM arrived

Plek

Poke 123 Coronado

1009 Orange Avenue, San Diego

Usually, when I think Hawaiian food, I’m thinking SPAM on rice, hamburger steak on rice drowned in gravy, pork adobo plate with rice and a “salad” of mac and cheese. Delish, but no way we’re talking health food.

Then I dropped in here. Poke 123. Brand new, with a brand old way of eating. You could say pre-European. Pro-healthy.

Two retired Navy guys just opened it on Orange Avenue in Coronado (they opened their first poke restaurant 18 months ago in IB, expanded to Liberty Station in 2018, and now here). Of course, poke is the thing right now. You have Poke Etc, the Sweetfin Poke chain, Good Time Poke, on and on. First thing is, you’ve gotta be ready to eat raw. For me, no probbo. Sashimi, ceviche, steak tartare, gravlax, carpaccio, same-same.

My friend Annie, not so much. Only thing she’ll eat raw is lettuce. Whatever, we head in to this angled entrance, all fresh-painted in whites and blues, right on time for happy hour (4-7 pm, every day). What I like is they have a little patio outside (with a heater).

“But do they have salad?” says Annie.

“Just look,” I say. Because it’s all laid out here, from chunks of marinated ahi tuna to green seaweed. You notice: no cooking equipment, like stoves. We’re eating cold-turkey. Okay, cold-tuna.

“Where do we start?” I ask the gal, Paula.

“At this end,” she says. “Choose your style. Bowls, norittos, or waves. Then choose your protein: seafood, chicken, or vegan tofu.”

“Goed. Bowls I get,” I say. “But noritto? wave?”

Ek weet nie. I’m probably the only guy who didn’t get up to speed on this ten years ago. Annie too, from the expression on her face.

“Noritto is like ‘nori’ — seaweed — and ‘burrito.’ Poke in a seaweed and rice wrap,” Paula explains. She points to — oh yeah — pictures on the wall. And, aha. “The wave” is poke in U-shaped rice tortillas, with dark green seaweed wrappers. Hawaiian tacos, you might say.

Norittos and waves cost $11.99. You get three “tacos” in the wave deal. Bowls start at $11.99 too, including two ice cream scoops of proteins. You can upgrade to three scoops for $13.99, four for $15.99.

“I just want a salad,” says Annie. And she orders a kid-size salad ($7.99). But then she adds the first noritto on the board, “Kapuni” (it means “favorite” in Hawaiian). Oh man. Apart from the two scoops of your choice of protein, they throw in “crab” meat, avocado, cucumber, raw sweet onion, and chopped macadamia nuts. And she gets to add two sauces. A sesame, and a citrus ponzu.

Now Paula grabs a bamboo mat and lays down a square of seaweed, a mat of crushed cooked rice on top, then ahi tuna and salmon, and all the other ingredients, then rolls it up in the bamboo mat, just like traditional sushi places do.

For my poke bowl (regular size, $11.99), I look at the dizzying lists of choices I’ve got to make. I pick the spicy tuna and salmon for protein, and then let Paula have at it. She piles up the brown rice, rice noodles, imitation crab, seaweed salad, a “mango mix” of pineapple, red pepper, and sweet chili sauce, then beets, radish slices, bright orange masago (fish eggs), green onions, wasabi, cilantro, jalapeños, crunchy garlic, furikake (a tangy dry seaweed with sesame), delish green soy beans, and the most important taste-maker, ginger.

We also get a large plastic glass (must be 20oz) of Sapporo beer each ($6.99 at happy hour). Deal! Could have had Stone Delicious, or an Alesmith .394 at the same price. Or a can for $4.99. Or a can of sake for $8.49.

We take it all outside. Setting sun’s flooding the patio. Heaters are turned on to fight the icy little breeze.

“Now all we’ve got to do is eat this,” says Annie. “Please have half mine. I’ll be full after the salad.”

All right! At the speed of greed I grab half, chow it down. Just to help her out.

Here’s the thing though. Unlike the “Hawaiian” food you get at plate food chains, this stuff really feels healthy. Raw tuna, salmon, all those veggies, fish eggs, soy beans. “Actually, this is the real Hawaiian food, before outsiders arrived and introduced beef, SPAM, whatever,” says Annie. She’s been to Hawaii. “This poke craze is great, because it’s going back to the time when Hawaiian food was Hawaiian. Less protein, more carbs, way less fat. I think it’s beautiful.”

Of course, back in the day, fishermen just cut up smaller reef fish (poke means “cut into chunks”), and maybe he’e (octopus). Not tuna. Definitely not salmon. And definitely no pineapple/mango mix to add color. But hey, no big crime. Poke’s like sushi, or pizza. It’s growing up. Breaking out from where it started.

I start packing, because as usual, eyes were bigger than stomach, and stomach ain’t small. Feel like a python that swallowed a pig. The tastes that stay with me are ginger, wasabi, mango, seaweed, radishes, soy, garlic, tuna.

But next day, hey hey! I’m back. Just have to try the wave “taco.” I get one of each, natch. The “123,” (with ahi tuna), the Cali (with imitation crab), and the spicy (with spicy tuna). And the zillion other items hidden inside. Hard as I try, I can only get through two. Which makes me wonder something. I go ask Ruthie the manager.

“Oh yes,” she says. “You can buy a single order of three waves and share it with two of your buddies. Geen probleem."

Which would mean four bucks each for a really filling “taco.” Add HH beers, and voilà! Feast for three for ten bucks each.

‘Course talking about it makes me hungry. I down the third taco. Call Annie. Confess.


Poke 123: real Hawaiian food before SPAM arrived

Plek

Poke 123 Coronado

1009 Orange Avenue, San Diego

Usually, when I think Hawaiian food, I’m thinking SPAM on rice, hamburger steak on rice drowned in gravy, pork adobo plate with rice and a “salad” of mac and cheese. Delish, but no way we’re talking health food.

Then I dropped in here. Poke 123. Brand new, with a brand old way of eating. You could say pre-European. Pro-healthy.

Two retired Navy guys just opened it on Orange Avenue in Coronado (they opened their first poke restaurant 18 months ago in IB, expanded to Liberty Station in 2018, and now here). Of course, poke is the thing right now. You have Poke Etc, the Sweetfin Poke chain, Good Time Poke, on and on. First thing is, you’ve gotta be ready to eat raw. For me, no probbo. Sashimi, ceviche, steak tartare, gravlax, carpaccio, same-same.

My friend Annie, not so much. Only thing she’ll eat raw is lettuce. Whatever, we head in to this angled entrance, all fresh-painted in whites and blues, right on time for happy hour (4-7 pm, every day). What I like is they have a little patio outside (with a heater).

“But do they have salad?” says Annie.

“Just look,” I say. Because it’s all laid out here, from chunks of marinated ahi tuna to green seaweed. You notice: no cooking equipment, like stoves. We’re eating cold-turkey. Okay, cold-tuna.

“Where do we start?” I ask the gal, Paula.

“At this end,” she says. “Choose your style. Bowls, norittos, or waves. Then choose your protein: seafood, chicken, or vegan tofu.”

“Goed. Bowls I get,” I say. “But noritto? wave?”

Ek weet nie. I’m probably the only guy who didn’t get up to speed on this ten years ago. Annie too, from the expression on her face.

“Noritto is like ‘nori’ — seaweed — and ‘burrito.’ Poke in a seaweed and rice wrap,” Paula explains. She points to — oh yeah — pictures on the wall. And, aha. “The wave” is poke in U-shaped rice tortillas, with dark green seaweed wrappers. Hawaiian tacos, you might say.

Norittos and waves cost $11.99. You get three “tacos” in the wave deal. Bowls start at $11.99 too, including two ice cream scoops of proteins. You can upgrade to three scoops for $13.99, four for $15.99.

“I just want a salad,” says Annie. And she orders a kid-size salad ($7.99). But then she adds the first noritto on the board, “Kapuni” (it means “favorite” in Hawaiian). Oh man. Apart from the two scoops of your choice of protein, they throw in “crab” meat, avocado, cucumber, raw sweet onion, and chopped macadamia nuts. And she gets to add two sauces. A sesame, and a citrus ponzu.

Now Paula grabs a bamboo mat and lays down a square of seaweed, a mat of crushed cooked rice on top, then ahi tuna and salmon, and all the other ingredients, then rolls it up in the bamboo mat, just like traditional sushi places do.

For my poke bowl (regular size, $11.99), I look at the dizzying lists of choices I’ve got to make. I pick the spicy tuna and salmon for protein, and then let Paula have at it. She piles up the brown rice, rice noodles, imitation crab, seaweed salad, a “mango mix” of pineapple, red pepper, and sweet chili sauce, then beets, radish slices, bright orange masago (fish eggs), green onions, wasabi, cilantro, jalapeños, crunchy garlic, furikake (a tangy dry seaweed with sesame), delish green soy beans, and the most important taste-maker, ginger.

We also get a large plastic glass (must be 20oz) of Sapporo beer each ($6.99 at happy hour). Deal! Could have had Stone Delicious, or an Alesmith .394 at the same price. Or a can for $4.99. Or a can of sake for $8.49.

We take it all outside. Setting sun’s flooding the patio. Heaters are turned on to fight the icy little breeze.

“Now all we’ve got to do is eat this,” says Annie. “Please have half mine. I’ll be full after the salad.”

All right! At the speed of greed I grab half, chow it down. Just to help her out.

Here’s the thing though. Unlike the “Hawaiian” food you get at plate food chains, this stuff really feels healthy. Raw tuna, salmon, all those veggies, fish eggs, soy beans. “Actually, this is the real Hawaiian food, before outsiders arrived and introduced beef, SPAM, whatever,” says Annie. She’s been to Hawaii. “This poke craze is great, because it’s going back to the time when Hawaiian food was Hawaiian. Less protein, more carbs, way less fat. I think it’s beautiful.”

Of course, back in the day, fishermen just cut up smaller reef fish (poke means “cut into chunks”), and maybe he’e (octopus). Not tuna. Definitely not salmon. And definitely no pineapple/mango mix to add color. But hey, no big crime. Poke’s like sushi, or pizza. It’s growing up. Breaking out from where it started.

I start packing, because as usual, eyes were bigger than stomach, and stomach ain’t small. Feel like a python that swallowed a pig. The tastes that stay with me are ginger, wasabi, mango, seaweed, radishes, soy, garlic, tuna.

But next day, hey hey! I’m back. Just have to try the wave “taco.” I get one of each, natch. The “123,” (with ahi tuna), the Cali (with imitation crab), and the spicy (with spicy tuna). And the zillion other items hidden inside. Hard as I try, I can only get through two. Which makes me wonder something. I go ask Ruthie the manager.

“Oh yes,” she says. “You can buy a single order of three waves and share it with two of your buddies. Geen probleem."

Which would mean four bucks each for a really filling “taco.” Add HH beers, and voilà! Feast for three for ten bucks each.

‘Course talking about it makes me hungry. I down the third taco. Call Annie. Confess.


Poke 123: real Hawaiian food before SPAM arrived

Plek

Poke 123 Coronado

1009 Orange Avenue, San Diego

Usually, when I think Hawaiian food, I’m thinking SPAM on rice, hamburger steak on rice drowned in gravy, pork adobo plate with rice and a “salad” of mac and cheese. Delish, but no way we’re talking health food.

Then I dropped in here. Poke 123. Brand new, with a brand old way of eating. You could say pre-European. Pro-healthy.

Two retired Navy guys just opened it on Orange Avenue in Coronado (they opened their first poke restaurant 18 months ago in IB, expanded to Liberty Station in 2018, and now here). Of course, poke is the thing right now. You have Poke Etc, the Sweetfin Poke chain, Good Time Poke, on and on. First thing is, you’ve gotta be ready to eat raw. For me, no probbo. Sashimi, ceviche, steak tartare, gravlax, carpaccio, same-same.

My friend Annie, not so much. Only thing she’ll eat raw is lettuce. Whatever, we head in to this angled entrance, all fresh-painted in whites and blues, right on time for happy hour (4-7 pm, every day). What I like is they have a little patio outside (with a heater).

“But do they have salad?” says Annie.

“Just look,” I say. Because it’s all laid out here, from chunks of marinated ahi tuna to green seaweed. You notice: no cooking equipment, like stoves. We’re eating cold-turkey. Okay, cold-tuna.

“Where do we start?” I ask the gal, Paula.

“At this end,” she says. “Choose your style. Bowls, norittos, or waves. Then choose your protein: seafood, chicken, or vegan tofu.”

“Goed. Bowls I get,” I say. “But noritto? wave?”

Ek weet nie. I’m probably the only guy who didn’t get up to speed on this ten years ago. Annie too, from the expression on her face.

“Noritto is like ‘nori’ — seaweed — and ‘burrito.’ Poke in a seaweed and rice wrap,” Paula explains. She points to — oh yeah — pictures on the wall. And, aha. “The wave” is poke in U-shaped rice tortillas, with dark green seaweed wrappers. Hawaiian tacos, you might say.

Norittos and waves cost $11.99. You get three “tacos” in the wave deal. Bowls start at $11.99 too, including two ice cream scoops of proteins. You can upgrade to three scoops for $13.99, four for $15.99.

“I just want a salad,” says Annie. And she orders a kid-size salad ($7.99). But then she adds the first noritto on the board, “Kapuni” (it means “favorite” in Hawaiian). Oh man. Apart from the two scoops of your choice of protein, they throw in “crab” meat, avocado, cucumber, raw sweet onion, and chopped macadamia nuts. And she gets to add two sauces. A sesame, and a citrus ponzu.

Now Paula grabs a bamboo mat and lays down a square of seaweed, a mat of crushed cooked rice on top, then ahi tuna and salmon, and all the other ingredients, then rolls it up in the bamboo mat, just like traditional sushi places do.

For my poke bowl (regular size, $11.99), I look at the dizzying lists of choices I’ve got to make. I pick the spicy tuna and salmon for protein, and then let Paula have at it. She piles up the brown rice, rice noodles, imitation crab, seaweed salad, a “mango mix” of pineapple, red pepper, and sweet chili sauce, then beets, radish slices, bright orange masago (fish eggs), green onions, wasabi, cilantro, jalapeños, crunchy garlic, furikake (a tangy dry seaweed with sesame), delish green soy beans, and the most important taste-maker, ginger.

We also get a large plastic glass (must be 20oz) of Sapporo beer each ($6.99 at happy hour). Deal! Could have had Stone Delicious, or an Alesmith .394 at the same price. Or a can for $4.99. Or a can of sake for $8.49.

We take it all outside. Setting sun’s flooding the patio. Heaters are turned on to fight the icy little breeze.

“Now all we’ve got to do is eat this,” says Annie. “Please have half mine. I’ll be full after the salad.”

All right! At the speed of greed I grab half, chow it down. Just to help her out.

Here’s the thing though. Unlike the “Hawaiian” food you get at plate food chains, this stuff really feels healthy. Raw tuna, salmon, all those veggies, fish eggs, soy beans. “Actually, this is the real Hawaiian food, before outsiders arrived and introduced beef, SPAM, whatever,” says Annie. She’s been to Hawaii. “This poke craze is great, because it’s going back to the time when Hawaiian food was Hawaiian. Less protein, more carbs, way less fat. I think it’s beautiful.”

Of course, back in the day, fishermen just cut up smaller reef fish (poke means “cut into chunks”), and maybe he’e (octopus). Not tuna. Definitely not salmon. And definitely no pineapple/mango mix to add color. But hey, no big crime. Poke’s like sushi, or pizza. It’s growing up. Breaking out from where it started.

I start packing, because as usual, eyes were bigger than stomach, and stomach ain’t small. Feel like a python that swallowed a pig. The tastes that stay with me are ginger, wasabi, mango, seaweed, radishes, soy, garlic, tuna.

But next day, hey hey! I’m back. Just have to try the wave “taco.” I get one of each, natch. The “123,” (with ahi tuna), the Cali (with imitation crab), and the spicy (with spicy tuna). And the zillion other items hidden inside. Hard as I try, I can only get through two. Which makes me wonder something. I go ask Ruthie the manager.

“Oh yes,” she says. “You can buy a single order of three waves and share it with two of your buddies. Geen probleem."

Which would mean four bucks each for a really filling “taco.” Add HH beers, and voilà! Feast for three for ten bucks each.

‘Course talking about it makes me hungry. I down the third taco. Call Annie. Confess.


Poke 123: real Hawaiian food before SPAM arrived

Plek

Poke 123 Coronado

1009 Orange Avenue, San Diego

Usually, when I think Hawaiian food, I’m thinking SPAM on rice, hamburger steak on rice drowned in gravy, pork adobo plate with rice and a “salad” of mac and cheese. Delish, but no way we’re talking health food.

Then I dropped in here. Poke 123. Brand new, with a brand old way of eating. You could say pre-European. Pro-healthy.

Two retired Navy guys just opened it on Orange Avenue in Coronado (they opened their first poke restaurant 18 months ago in IB, expanded to Liberty Station in 2018, and now here). Of course, poke is the thing right now. You have Poke Etc, the Sweetfin Poke chain, Good Time Poke, on and on. First thing is, you’ve gotta be ready to eat raw. For me, no probbo. Sashimi, ceviche, steak tartare, gravlax, carpaccio, same-same.

My friend Annie, not so much. Only thing she’ll eat raw is lettuce. Whatever, we head in to this angled entrance, all fresh-painted in whites and blues, right on time for happy hour (4-7 pm, every day). What I like is they have a little patio outside (with a heater).

“But do they have salad?” says Annie.

“Just look,” I say. Because it’s all laid out here, from chunks of marinated ahi tuna to green seaweed. You notice: no cooking equipment, like stoves. We’re eating cold-turkey. Okay, cold-tuna.

“Where do we start?” I ask the gal, Paula.

“At this end,” she says. “Choose your style. Bowls, norittos, or waves. Then choose your protein: seafood, chicken, or vegan tofu.”

“Goed. Bowls I get,” I say. “But noritto? wave?”

Ek weet nie. I’m probably the only guy who didn’t get up to speed on this ten years ago. Annie too, from the expression on her face.

“Noritto is like ‘nori’ — seaweed — and ‘burrito.’ Poke in a seaweed and rice wrap,” Paula explains. She points to — oh yeah — pictures on the wall. And, aha. “The wave” is poke in U-shaped rice tortillas, with dark green seaweed wrappers. Hawaiian tacos, you might say.

Norittos and waves cost $11.99. You get three “tacos” in the wave deal. Bowls start at $11.99 too, including two ice cream scoops of proteins. You can upgrade to three scoops for $13.99, four for $15.99.

“I just want a salad,” says Annie. And she orders a kid-size salad ($7.99). But then she adds the first noritto on the board, “Kapuni” (it means “favorite” in Hawaiian). Oh man. Apart from the two scoops of your choice of protein, they throw in “crab” meat, avocado, cucumber, raw sweet onion, and chopped macadamia nuts. And she gets to add two sauces. A sesame, and a citrus ponzu.

Now Paula grabs a bamboo mat and lays down a square of seaweed, a mat of crushed cooked rice on top, then ahi tuna and salmon, and all the other ingredients, then rolls it up in the bamboo mat, just like traditional sushi places do.

For my poke bowl (regular size, $11.99), I look at the dizzying lists of choices I’ve got to make. I pick the spicy tuna and salmon for protein, and then let Paula have at it. She piles up the brown rice, rice noodles, imitation crab, seaweed salad, a “mango mix” of pineapple, red pepper, and sweet chili sauce, then beets, radish slices, bright orange masago (fish eggs), green onions, wasabi, cilantro, jalapeños, crunchy garlic, furikake (a tangy dry seaweed with sesame), delish green soy beans, and the most important taste-maker, ginger.

We also get a large plastic glass (must be 20oz) of Sapporo beer each ($6.99 at happy hour). Deal! Could have had Stone Delicious, or an Alesmith .394 at the same price. Or a can for $4.99. Or a can of sake for $8.49.

We take it all outside. Setting sun’s flooding the patio. Heaters are turned on to fight the icy little breeze.

“Now all we’ve got to do is eat this,” says Annie. “Please have half mine. I’ll be full after the salad.”

All right! At the speed of greed I grab half, chow it down. Just to help her out.

Here’s the thing though. Unlike the “Hawaiian” food you get at plate food chains, this stuff really feels healthy. Raw tuna, salmon, all those veggies, fish eggs, soy beans. “Actually, this is the real Hawaiian food, before outsiders arrived and introduced beef, SPAM, whatever,” says Annie. She’s been to Hawaii. “This poke craze is great, because it’s going back to the time when Hawaiian food was Hawaiian. Less protein, more carbs, way less fat. I think it’s beautiful.”

Of course, back in the day, fishermen just cut up smaller reef fish (poke means “cut into chunks”), and maybe he’e (octopus). Not tuna. Definitely not salmon. And definitely no pineapple/mango mix to add color. But hey, no big crime. Poke’s like sushi, or pizza. It’s growing up. Breaking out from where it started.

I start packing, because as usual, eyes were bigger than stomach, and stomach ain’t small. Feel like a python that swallowed a pig. The tastes that stay with me are ginger, wasabi, mango, seaweed, radishes, soy, garlic, tuna.

But next day, hey hey! I’m back. Just have to try the wave “taco.” I get one of each, natch. The “123,” (with ahi tuna), the Cali (with imitation crab), and the spicy (with spicy tuna). And the zillion other items hidden inside. Hard as I try, I can only get through two. Which makes me wonder something. I go ask Ruthie the manager.

“Oh yes,” she says. “You can buy a single order of three waves and share it with two of your buddies. Geen probleem."

Which would mean four bucks each for a really filling “taco.” Add HH beers, and voilà! Feast for three for ten bucks each.

‘Course talking about it makes me hungry. I down the third taco. Call Annie. Confess.


Kyk die video: The Poke Brothers of Hawaii. Street Food Icons (Mei 2022).