Island Fresh
As we drove onto the property and towards the hotel, our mouths fell agape, shocked at the pandemic-era redevelopment of Turtle Bay Resort. Gone was the property where Peter Bretter tried to forget Sarah Marshall. Gone were the giant turtles that stretched across the hotel wall. Gone was… well, the old hotel, as we faced an entirely different concept and design at the famed North Shore resort. The old Turtle Bay has been reinvented, and it is pretty darn nice.
My wife and I were invited to sample the menu at the resort’s signature restaurant, Alaia, offering a modern take on Hawaiian comfort food. As we made our way through the bright open lobby, we were met with seemingly endless panoramic views of the property where the beach and sky met the crashing waves of the ocean just yards away from the pool deck. The expansive lobby, with its upbeat music pumping through the lobby, gave the impression we were in an exotic locale beyond Hawai‘i shores. While the resort concept embraced the Aloha spirit, the experience felt equal parts worldly, as if we were in a vastly different place.
We arrived an hour before the restaurant opened to venture around the property and meet with Alaia Chef de Cuisine William Lochetto. The lobby concept extends into the restaurant which also showcases the immaculate views from both indoor and outdoor seating. The wrap-around lanai sits just over the pool area. The summer sunset was just a tad too far to the left of the restaurant but apparently winter sunsets out furikake seared ‘ahi, served with togarashi rice cake and Big Island kampachi tartare with yuzu ponzu, served with crispy rice crackers.
I was immediately struck at the simplicity of the fish — perhaps too simple — and found myself reaching for the proverbial bottle of ketchup, or in this case, shoyu. However, I was chastised by my dinner partner, who scolded me stating, “not everything has to scream in your mouth!”
Being Japanese, she reminded me that top sushi restaurants serve immaculate cuts of fish with little to no shoyu or wasabi, and it’s frowned upon, and in many cases forbidden, to alter the sushi shokunin, or the master chef’s creation.
And in this case, Chef Lochetto, by not over seasoning the delicate fish, was forcing me to recognize the true taste of the ingredients he deftly put together. He allowed me to experience the fish — not salt or sugar or other spices but the true, unaltered taste of the fish. I took another bite of the ‘ahi and was overwhelmed with the subtlety of the fresh fish with its melt-in-your-mouth texture and flavor alongside the light fragrance of the furikake. And once I learned how to really taste the fish, the kampachi tartare also overwhelmed the senses and tingled the mouth with hints of the yuzu ponzu and shiso leaf. Chef Lochetto put my “American” palate on blast, and I had to reckon with a master of taste.
As we were wrapping up our meal, Chef surprised us with one last dish of the J. Ludovico roasted half chicken served on a bed of corn pudding. The chicken was outstanding. I cannot emphasize that more. It was phenomenal. And chicken are spectacular. Nevertheless, the sky exploded into a crescendo of orange, pinks and blues toward the end of our delightful experience. More on that later…
Chef Lochetto, Alaia’s Philly-born chef who brings his Asian-inspired cooking skills to the kitchen by way of Thomas Keller’s The French Laundry and Nobu Lanai is waiting to give us a demonstration of several of Alaia’s signature dishes.
Spread out on a table in the kitchen were fresh-off-the farm produce picked for us as Chef planned a demonstration of the kind of fare Alaia offers diners (some menu items change according to season). He laid out red Russian kale, turmeric root, heirloom carrots, various colors of beets, and other fresh produce from Turtle Bay’s own Kuilima Farm, a nearly 500-acre farm just mauka of the property.
Kuilima, which means “holding hands with the land” in Hawaiian, produces more than 700 pounds of fresh produce weekly for the resort’s restaurants and bars. Lochetto pays the farm a visit once a week to see what it’s producing and plans his seasonal menu on what’s growing. “I like to cook what’s alive right now,” Chef Lochetto remarks as he begins to create his first dish with his farm-fresh products.
Chef takes the heirloom carrots — baked earlier in coriander and cumin — and plates them atop a Russian kale-quinoa pilaf surrounded by a turmeric lime emulsion. He hands my wife a carrot to munch on as he makes the dish, and she remarks how delicate and lightly spiced they are.
Chef then works on Alaia’s roasted beet dish paired with local pomelo, and herbs from the farm. This was another simple masterpiece of veggies in which the taste of the ‘aina came through with each bite. The sweet and juicy pomelo accented the beets perfectly…just a sublime dish of simplicity.
After the presentation in the kitchen, we sat down in the dining area with several other early diners. Along with the beets and carrot dish, our server brought is the last thing I’d order in an upscale restaurant, but it was certainly worth noting. The skin was delicately browned, the meat exquisitely juicy, and the pairing with the corn pudding was just an incredible offering.
While heartier offerings were on the menu, including signature dishes like the tomahawk steak or the whole fish, Alaia is evolving to meet the needs of clientele who expect diversity to meet the needs of different dietary constraints. With diners expecting to see more vegan, vegetarian and gluten-free options, Alaia is striving to meet those expectations. For me, to dine on dishes with produce grown just a stone’s throw from the restaurant is amazing.
Alaia is leading the charge to give diners a socially conscious choice where it not only helps local farms and producers, but society and the environment as a whole. The dinner taught me much more than I expected, and left me much more satisfied and hopeful than if I had ordered the usual steak-and-potato fare. Alaia exists in the future and is leading the way with the expectations of today’s diners.
After the meal, we wandered the property and enjoyed the late summer sunset from the shoreline near the pool bar. The sky bloomed orange and reds until fading into dark blue … just a spectacular way to end an eventful dinner.
We didn’t spot any hula dancers or hear the strumming of ‘ukulele, but you’ll not find any Hawaiian kitsch at the new Turtle Bay Resort. And the guests don’t seem to mind. The evolution of the property has moved into a new century, offering a different experience to many of its well-heeled guests. These same new guests expect to see more than just steak on the menu.
Alaia, Turtle Bay Resort, 57-091 Kamehameha Hwy, Kahuku, (808) 293-6020, turtlebayresort.com