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Michels, a closer look
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 Michel's at Colony Surf Diamond Head official page! |
 Awesome Michel's review by Tasty Island's Pomai! |
 Michels Waikiki on Yelp! |
 Trip Advisor on Michels Modern French Cuisine! |
Aloha!
9/19/11 - Been a long time coming to this place! Michel's has been around since back in the day, when the Big Dog'z around town were still all about traditional fine dining - Matteo's, La Ronde, Aaron's, Nick's Fishmarket, John Dominis - old-school all the way, baby!
They were all about huge panels of rich, deeply-colored woods, dim lighting, huge wine displays, butler'ish waiters clad in tuxedo's, French wanna-be (or actually!) cuisine, and an air of snobbiness that reached high heaven. Michel's, first opening in 1962, along with other traditional fine-dining spots like those mentioned above, only began their slow relegation to the backburner in the 1980's, when Hawaii Regional Cuisine suddenly arrived upon the scene, capturing the heart and soul of the local dining world in meteoric fashion. Instead of trying to duplicate kitchens after France and culinary experiences like New York or Chicago, the hungry, thirty-something chefs of this new wave brought with them a more casual air, a penchant for creative fusion, a variety of ethnic touches, and, most of all, a commitment to local products and pride in all things Hawaii.
Though Michel's is a throwback to the old school, by no means is that necessarily a negative, as I wouldn't consider the food itself dated. Nowadays, you can do classics like beef wellington, duck l'orange, or cherries jubilee and they'll contain enough fusion elements to make everything as fresh and new as an uni gelee or cilantro foam. I think it's more about the atmosphere and delivery, as well as being able to boast of some kind of history, dating back at least to the 70's or early 80's, before Hawaii Regional Cuisine was officially introduced.
Michel's is located in the Colony Surf Hotel, on the thin strip of hotels and apartments comprising the Gold Coast of Diamond Head. If you decide to pass on a hunt for parking at Kapiolani Park, it's valet-only here at the Surf, in a tiny lobby and welcome area. From there, the restaurant entrance is only steps away:
I didn't get too many shots inside, but here's a couple to complement the few above:
Nice enough in its own old-school way, but some say it's the view that really makes this place special. Like Hau Tree Lanai at the New Otani Hotel a few steps away, Michel's takes full advantage of their prime beach-side location. Just about every seat in the house features excellent views even locals never tire of. By late afternoon, there's glistening-white sands, deep-blue waters, sun-kissed skies, and maybe a bikini or three; by night, there's the bright lights of Waikiki, tiki torches and candlelight to set the mood, the calming sound of the ocean, and gentle trades to stage a most uniquely Hawaiian, but still upscale, experience. And the sunsets? Oy vey. No wonder they've been winning "Most Romantic Restaurant" from Hale Aina so many years running!
No, I was too busy with food shots for a sunset, but here's a look at basically the same views, only a bit closer to Waikiki proper and from another outing:
The small strip of beach at Michel's is almost a private one in that it's not visible from any road, and fronts both the Colony Surf Hotel and the Outrigger Canoe Club facility. Of course, all beaches themselves on Oahu, save for military land, is public, but here you'll have to either walk around the point of Kaimana Beach/New Otani Hotel at low tide, be staying in one of the buildings there, or access a few narrow right-of-way's known mostly to surfers and fisherman - luckily, I do both! This similiar patch of sand is located even deeper but just nextdoor, with even less people around:
I guess Michel's and the Colony Surf hotel caters widely to a Japanese clientele, as they must have taken about two/thirds of the available seating. The rest were a mix of other tourists and a small handful of locals. Everytime I come into Waikiki, it always amazes me how important tourism is to our restaurants and various other businesses. Without them, there's no way places like this could survive! Mahalo visitors!
Check out the full menu at their official home page link above, but for now just know that Michel's considers itself a purveyor of, in their own words, "French Haute Cuisine with a local twist." A few typical items include lobster bisque, sauteed foie gras, and escargot bourgogne for appetizers; NY steak au poivre, lobster thermidor, and seafood consomme for main entrees; and apple banana flambe, Grand Marnier souffle, and a very interesting strawberry/foie gras dish for dessert! Foie gras for Dessert?
Some orders, such as a ceasar's salad, a hickory-smoked salmon, an impressive chateaubriand for two, and desserts come complete with a show, via waiters performing over push carts. Table-side service items are indicated on the menu for those who prefer this classic and fun slice of nostalgia:
Our party of three posed quite a challenge to the staff, as they had to juggle with one diner ordering a 6-course pre-fixe menu (7 if including intermezzo) and two other diners ordering only a sum-total of one appetizer and two full-sized entrees. With almost a full house, I really appreciated how they timed everything so perfectly. I mean, you'd think timing in a fine-dining restaurant is as reliable as clock-work, but us finnicky folks can sometimes not realize nor appreciate how difficult a flawless performance is, particularly on a busy night with so many different tables and moods to deal with. Just off to our right, a scary woman, whom I later heard was the President of some giant company, nonchalantly sent back two different bottles of wine, opened just for her, in consecutive fashion and with just a flick of her finger! I'd be much too ashamed!
In fact, not only did our plates arrive on-time, but they also presented the two of us ordering full-sized entrees with an added dish each, just to fill-in the extra time it took to keep in sync with the one pre-fixe order! Super-kudo's! Furthermore, since there was only one dessert between the three of us, they actually split the one and rolled-out three separate plates for all to enjoy! How great is that?
Before beginning our grand feast, here's a shot at the complimentary "bread," which was actually a strawberry butter and lavosh:
The whipped strawberry butter was fine, with a sweet, tart kick of fruit, but I'm sorry - the lavosh was just shameful. What is supposed to be some of the crispiest crackers around had as much crunch as a slice of white bread. Ok, I'm exaggerating, but it was definitely the soggiest lavosh I'd ever had!
Our only appetizer course was one I ordered not for the main ingredient, ahi, but for a few small, black specks the size of pinheads! Why?
That's because the conversation with our waiter quickly turned to my desire to better familiarize myself with caviar, or sturgeon roe. I was hoping he could explain what it tasted like, but as with most people I ask, it's a taste that can't adequately be explained very well and is better left to self-experimentation. I've actually had it on more than one occasion, but haven't quite formulated a clear picture in my mind of its legendary qualities. I figured this above starter of ahi tartare, with its tiny smidgeon of caviar on-top, was a good opportunity to further my palate without actually having to pay for a full order, which would have been astronomical! Unfortunately, it was much too small a portion to register adequately, leaving me to regret not listening to our waiter, who had given us warnings before-hand regarding the meager portions! Hard-head, I guess!
The dish as a whole was excellent, though, unless considering its price tag, which at $24, was a bit high even for a fancy place like this! The bright-red ahi was fresh and delicious, coming tossed in Hawaiian salt, ogo seaweed, and walnut oil, then accompanied by wonton chips, creme fraiche, pesto, and roasted pepper aioli.
The opening dish for the one pre-fixe menu, priced at $85 without pairings, was a cold soup:
This stylish gazpacho was constructed from roasted Kamuela tomatoes, crisped prosciutto, and a topping of chantilly pesto, and as good as it looks, we were actually kinda disappointed. I dunno, the sharp, acidic flavors seemed a bit too harsh, especially for an opener. The tart, tangy bite and relatively generic taste just didn't bode very well for us, was all.
The second course, however, did live up to the hype:
A thing of beauty! I thought the slice of avocado and skinned ruby grapefruit was an excellent balance of creamy-richness and tart citrus, while the Spanish moscatel vinegar and citrus butter was equally as masterful. I love layered sauces that separate into all kinds of pretty-little bubbles and patterns, like an oil and water kind of thing. We cut tiny pieces of our gorgeously-browned scallop and savored every piece, first drenching each one in as much sauce as possible!
The third course was delicious as well:
Here was a heart of butter lettuce with Maine lobster and bay shrimp, a few wedges of island papaya and mango, and a sauce of tomato cognac aioli. The lobster piece came from a claw, a piece more tender, a bit sweeter, and slightly fishier (in a good way!) than a tail. I kinda like a combination of both for the best results. And thank goodness, our bay shrimp wasn't the pasty, flavorless, tiny tails so often found, but were more along the lines of the fresh, very excellent versions we enjoyed throughout Scandinavia, especially Norway.
Our next course had its good and not-so-good elements:
Starting with the bad, I just don't get their tomato-based offerings. At a place like this, I'm sure it must have been from fresh tomatoes, but somehow, there's a kind of tartness almost resembling canned tomato paste! Once again, I'm sure cans don't come anywhere near their red sauce, and maybe I'm just completely unaware of a certain style of preparation, but it sure does seem like this particular ragout, and their tomato sauces in general, don't quite belong here. Looks-wise, though, you gotta admit the bright, beautiful color pops-out like a cherry-red hot-rod glistening under the sun!
On the better side, the oriecchette pasta was perfectly al dente and looking dainty and cutesy'ish with that bright-red background, and the veal sausage was tender, juicy, and bristling with meaty, smoky flavors. Also included were baby bell peppers, reggiano cheese, Tuscan olive oil, and a fennel cream.
After number four was an intermezzo of sorbet:
A nice little refresher, and it was on to the last savory course, a couple of medallions of bacon-wrapped lamb - does that sound great or what?
As you can see, it's beginning to get darker, and as is often the case, the lighting gets kinda funky. But anyhow, this main course was served with gratin potatoes, braised Swiss chard, blueberry/walnut chutney, and a port wine reduction, looking very much like classic French to me. Everything was beautiful and done well - the gratin was delicious, the veggies, great, and the lamb itself, tender and succulent - only thing was, was it really lamb? I'm mean, you know how everything always sounds better when it's bacon-wrapped? Well... I'd say that's normally the case, but this time, we're talking about rack of lamb in a fine dining restaurant, which is just as coveted as a dry-aged Prime ribeye or Porterhouse! I was hoping for that slightly wild tinge of red meat that, when done well, reaches into the deepest depths of your brain reserved only for special occasions, but in the end, all we could taste was bacon, an also-great but much more common sort of affair. Can't say we weren't left a wee-bit wanting.
We'll see the sweet finale of Michel's 6-course meal soon, but first, we'll check out a few other dishes around our table. Here's the complimentary dish spoken of earlier, when we were presented with something just to occupy the extra time it took for the one-course menu to unfold:
Simple enough - a tiny block of salmon on whipped potatoes, along with that same red sauce from the veal sausage ragout. Despite my ragging on the ragout, a larger replica of this very dish could easily pass as a bona-fide course, the salmon coming as good as it gets and topped with a creamy aioli oven-baked to a beautiful golden-brown. Good or bad, though, we very much appreciated this completely unexpected and Scott-free course!
More often than not when dining upscale, my main entree choice usually comes down to duck, lamb, or some type of crustacean (unless at a fine steakhouse, of course!). With lamb already a part of the pre-fixe meal and crustacean already kapu'd, there was only one option left:
Here's a description straight off the menu:
Long Island Duck Breast - served Over a Blend of Curried Rice & Harvest Grains with Seasonal Vegetables, Sautéed Oranges & Grapefruit in a Light Spanish Moscatel Citrus Jus - $46
Though classic combo's like apple or pear with pork and citrus with poultry or fish work naturally well together, as a general rule, I don't necessarily care for whole pieces of fresh fruit in savory dishes. That being said, when whole, fresh pieces of fruit do work as they did over and over again tonight, it's all the more powerful for me, as all credit is due to the chef's creativity, skill, and knowledge in transforming something I normally don't care for into something I can really appreciate! The duck itself was a tad on the tougher side, but the taste was on-point and great bathed in the light jus sauce.
Our other entree for the evening was an impressive-looking seafood smorgasboard:
Once again, here's a description straight off the menu:
Lobster and Shrimp Thermidor - succulent 1lb Maine Lobster Baked with Cognac-Flamed Mushrooms & Artichokes Under Mornay & Dijon Lobster Sauces; with Caledonian Prawns & Burmese Red Rice Risotto - $54
I didn't get to taste much of this plate, but the one ordering it sure was happy! The lobster tail I did sample was cooked perfectly - no toughness at all, lots of ocean sweetness, and not overly drowning in the mornay/dijon sauces, as is often the case in a baked dynamite. The great, natural taste of lobster came through wonderfully.
And finally, with only one dessert among us, chef was kind enough to split the final course in three:
Unlike the few bubbles of caviar earlier, this thin slice of tiramisu and mini-scoop of coffee ice cream did give us a good idea of the flavors involved. And unlike our last slices of tiramisu from Taormina and CPK, both excellent but both laden with heavy cream, this version was a bit less foo-foo, with slightly more cake. The moistness coming from these layers was pretty darn phenomenal, with a semi-sweet flavor perfectly balanced with the sweet ice cream. Ala mode always rules!
We all had a great time here at Michel's at Colony Surf. With most of the old-guard restaurants of classic fine-dining long-gone, it's one of the last bastions of the genre still around. Can't say the place is quite up to the best Hawaii Regional Cuisine restaurants of today, but for what it represents, it does its job well. The only thing I'd do differently next time is to order one or two table-side service items, just for novelty and nostalgia's sake. A lobster bisque, with fresh chunks lobster, flame-charred in cognac, to start, or a banana flambe'd over dark rum to end would have both heightened the experience that much more. One of those next-time things, I guess, along with a full order of golden osetra caviar (in my dreams!), conveniently listed as market price! I won't even tell you how much it actually was - you don't wanna know!
Hey, hope you've all had a wonderful weekend! As stated a few closer looks ago, we're headed to one of the dining capitals of the world in just a few short hours! Not sure if I'll have time to post much until returning a couple of weeks later, but we'll see! Never know! I'll do my best!
Take care, and Aloha till next time!
Aku
Michel's at the Colony Surf Waikiki
2895 Kalakaua Avenue
923-6552
Dinner nightly from 5:30pm; Brunch every first Sunday from 10am-1pm
Complimentary valet parking at the Colony Surf or on street
