Chef Mavro — restaurant review — Hawai’i

by Kris   ⋅   September 2, 2008   ⋅   Comment now   ⋅    RSS

In college, en route to work, I rode many times on The Bus past Chef Mavro, a cute little building with a continuous frosted wave of etched glass ebbing and flowing around its perimeter, hugging the “sandy” apricot-colored walls, a pleasant oasis amidst the low-rise tenements and eyesores of another era lining busy King Street in Honolulu. Back then, though, food was food, just an essential and not much else, thumbing my nose at “pinky’s up”. Now I am apparently making up for lost time, taking/dragging Chris to all the acclaimed wundereats O’ahu has to offer. Most were disappointing, but Chef Mavro was well worth the wait.

Usually I like to check out a place a few times before making an assessment, which I think is fair; some restaurants may have seasonal menus, as Chef Mavro does, or off days. Chef Mavro is my rule-breaker. Also, bear with me as the details are a bit fuzzy as I zoned out when the waiter was talking/presenting each dish.

Everyone rallies around Chef Mavro’s buns (first photo, left), which, I gotta tell ya were warm and crisp, but not of blow-your-mind batter. The Amuse Bouche was a gorgeous chartreuse whipped cucumber mousse with teensy tomato bits and a bright cilantro/coriander essence. They called it a cappuccino. Cute. While I appreciate the cleverness, I had really wished it came with a spoon instead of a boba-width straw; not too keen on these novelty “soup shots” the hoity toity digs are so into these days, especially if there are ingredients you still have to chew, but down the hatch and heimlich me, I guess!

I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like seared ahi, but if you think about it, it’s lukewarm and mushy and overseasoned. To me, if it’s peppered up right, it’s the closest thing to steak I’ll ever eat again, and I grew up eating steak almost every week, so gimme gimme! Chef Mavro’s Cured and Seared Ahi is decadent, skimming a creamy Fennel-Lemon sauce and crowning a bed of white balsamic vinegar marinated eggplant and capers that were neither too briny nor acidic; perfect pods.

The Catch of the Day was onaga (red snapper), a neutral whitefish served with that trendy darling: the citrus froth. What may look like a tadpole nest across your entree actually adds an incredibly subtle lemon aura as the bubbles burst against your palate. If you accept that it’s texture they’re after, you might not be so alarmed when it first arrives; “hey, who spit on my food?!” Braised celery and Israeli couscous (prepared fresh pacific oyster marinière style) slid beneath the fish, complementing the ivory toned palette with more textures and ocean aroma/flavors. Oysters really impart a power punch of flavor that refuses to share the spotlight, but it was tamed beautifully here.

Curry curry curry! The Keahole Lobster with a beautiful swish of ochre Banana/Green Apple Curry, was so gorgeous that I didn’t want to eat it. The ample meaty juicy tails were displayed in their own bright russet shell. Extra meat created a sweet accessory salad. Jasmine Rice Croquettes were a nice touch, twisting an otherwise blasé staple.

Pre-dessert dessert aka: Palate Cleanser was a transparent futuristic-esque Champagne Gelatin with mint chiffonades and suspended honeydew melon balls (I think). This was aspic for the ages; so pristine I feared disturbing its silent beauty with my nasty spoon. Floating in a mottled, frosted glass dish of the palest blue shade really complemented the light green color of the fruit.

When the Dark Chocolate Quenelle (last photo, left) arrived, it looked like a tube of refrigerator cookie dough partnered up with some burnt crumbs. Turns out it was Chilled Nougat and Moloka’i Black Salt specks. Along for the plating party was a paper-thin Banana Bread Crisp, a dense Dark Chocolate Malt Sauce, and a dollop of Burnt Caramel. Like all the dishes we sampled, this one sang many different directions: crunchy, velvety, nutty, bitter, mildly sweet. Nothing like variety for a ADHD-type gal.

Chef Mavro’s signature Lilikoi Malasadas with Guava Coulis and Pineapple-Coconut ice cream were airy and puffy, not at all oily, which is something that turns me off about malasadas. I usually don’t enjoy glammed-up local kine grinds, but these were too cute and too revered to pass up. The dessert revels itself as a tribute rather than an afterthought. Quadrants of complementary fresh chocolate, caramel, and coconut mignardises finished off our already bloated tummies.

I wish there were more pescetarian or vegetarian offers, but they were happy to switch menu items around for us. I’m not sure why I didn’t mix up selections from Chris’ like I normally do, but maybe I knew we wouldn’t be able to share!

As for the people of Chef Mavro, you get what you expect. I can’t say much for the waitstaff, who were capable at memorizing the descriptive soliloquies, had proper timing of present then spent-plate removal, didn’t make us feel rushed, were ultra polite, but a bit too sterile and austere. It was slightly militant, like dining in the inside of a finely-tuned clock with everyone sliding in and about on rails, but they must run a tight schedule. I jokingly told one of the servers that I wasn’t done being “amoozed” with my Amuse Bouche and she waved me away, as if she wasn’t allowed to laugh, or even feign laughter. She must have been the “bread girl”, keeping us up to our eyeballs in carbs. The Maitre’d actually served us at the latter half as more guests arrived (even a family from Japan with small children! Hmm, start ‘em off with gourmet young) and he was much more personable and much appreciated. The valet seemed more concerned with getting a big tip than big service, but Chris chatted him up since he was reading a familiar book and looked pretty bored out there. We didn’t get to see Chef Mavrothalassitis make his “dining room rounds”, but there’s always next time.

The ambiance is pristine and romantic; book earlier in the night for a quieter meal. You can request the booths/tables along the perimeter (as I did) if you don’t want to get stuck in the middle section. I actually forgot it was right next to a busy intersection until some skaters chunked their boards along the pavement outside while waiting for the traffic lights to change.

If you want to experience what “marriage of flavors” and “dancing on your palate” means, and you know it doesn’t mean “drowning in heavy sauce”, then definitely get on over to Chef Mavro’s!

Chef Mavro
1969 S King St - Honolulu, Hawaii - (808) 944-4714
HOURS: Tues-Sun 6p-9:30p

About the Author:

Kris Kobayashi-Nelson is an avid food adventurist who has tried everything from jellyfish to sea cucumber to chicken gizzards. She loved liver and onions with ketchup and cayenne pepper ice cream as a kid. She despises chocolate. She is now a happily mercury-poisoned pescetarian sushi lover.

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