Love, marriage, and business

Over the last two or so months, I’ve gotten to know two couples: Gabe and Stephanie, of Papa Lucks, and Bruno and Kim, of Mix. These husband-wife teams are running eateries, the former on the University of Hawai‘i at Manoa campus and the latter in the heart of downtown Honolulu.

I’m pretty sure they would like each other if they had the chance to meet and would find they have a lot in common:

• trying to keep the costs of business low while keeping the quality of their food high;
• balancing the demands of doing business with those of their personal lives;
• coming up with offerings that will satisfy the customers they’re targeting;
• trying to find the right people to help them;
• thinking about their jobs constantly, to the exclusion of focusing on the present moment;
• lack of sleep.

After watching them and talking with them over the last several weeks, I’ve concluded that running an eatery has to be in the category of very difficult jobs. I can saunter over, order what I want, and then eat and leave, but they must always be there—to serve my wants and needs and those of their many customers.

Papa Lucks is located in between the art building and Miller Hall, which houses fashion-design students, among others. Students go to PL for snacks in between classes, for breakfast in the morning, and for their big meal of the day: lunch. This is quite different from what Govinda’s—which is in the Sustainability Courtyard and close to where I work—does: it opens at 10 and closes at 2, and its main customers are those who want a vegetarian lunch.

To those who frequent PL, Gabe has become a friend: someone who can trade pidgin jokes with the best of them, who can discuss anything from the surf to the latest political developments, and who listens to Miles Davis and other jazz notables but can talk about other kinds of music as well. A recent customer asked him what he does in his spare time, and he replied with a slight smile, “Experimental dentistry…punk-rock counseling.”

Gabe also cooks; he makes a mushroom quiche and bakes ginger-and-pecan scones—delicious.

On the other side of town is Mix, which was just reviewed in Honolulu magazine. Turn to page 143 of the October issue, and you can read what John Heckathorn had to say about it. I won’t spoil the surprise by summarizing the review here. Suffice it to say that you will want to try Mix immediately if you haven’t already

Re-Mix

This is what I posted in July about what has become one of my favorite places to dine at:

Mix Café has opened up at 35 S. Beretania Street. The eatery has about ten tables, including a large one at which several people may sit, and free wi-fi access. On the menu is a range of delicious dishes, including spinach-and-cheese omelettes, banana pancakes, waffles with whipped cream and fruit, pasta salads, and sub sandwiches. Things to drink include homemade lemonade and berry juice, coffee, and Perrier. Painted apple green and kept spare and clean, the eatery is a great place to start the day. However, customers in a hurry should be aware that the staff is still organizing itself; I ordered a cup of cappuccino and had to wait more than fifteen minutes even though the café was not busy. Call 537-1191 or e-mail mixcafehonolulu@gmail.com for more information.

Here’s an update.

Street construction around mid-September resulted in part of the sidewalk in front of Mix being torn apart and barriers constructed to reroute cars and pedestrians. What was supposed to take a few days ended up taking much longer, and owners Kim and Bruno felt that the construction, which made it difficult to get in the door of Mix, affected their business. The last time I was in there—on Thursday, the 27th—customer flow seemed to be back to normal.

The homemade apple cake is dense, not too sweet, and filled with good-sized bits of apple, and it used to come with whipped cream and berries. Gone are the cream and berries, I’m afraid, and by itself, the apple cake is a bit dry. I order it with iced cappuccino.

Bruno is from Italy and is the chef as well as co-owner. His dishes are made the old-fashioned way—from scratch—and have a richness of flavor that you can’t get in most places. Recently, I ordered for lunch a green salad with roasted vegetables, a mushroom omelet, and wheat toast; basalmic vinegar came in a little container, which I emptied over the salad when I was ready to eat. The whole thing was delicious, and I savored the individual and blended flavors.

There are yet many things on Mix’s menu that I have to try. When I go in next, I’ll take a picture of the menu, and you can decide for yourself what looks appetizing

A string of good lucks

I’ve been meaning to write about this University of Hawai‘i food stand for a while. I was even going to take a few pictures of the place and the nice people who run it, but I decided not to impose. These words will have to do.

Owner-manager Gabe is the grandson of Lucky Luck—someone I, yes, remember watching on television in the days when Hawai‘i only had three channels and every show was in black and white. He had his own program and appeared to be genial, approachable, and goodhearted. This shot from one of his shows captures the man. (He always wore that hat at a jaunty angle, and it was as much a part of him as his smile.)

Shortly after I started going to Papa Lucks and talking with Gabe, he told me he was the grandson of Lucky Luck. I was shocked and said, You’re related to Lucky Luck?! Gabe’s voice had no trace of an island accent, his hair was clipped as short as a soldier’s, and he had a tattoo on the inside of one of his forearms. However, I’ve found as the weeks have passed that imposing Lucky Luck’s quick smile and twinkly eyes on Gabe’s face takes little effort.

One hot summer day, a customer was purchasing something and complimented Gabe on the food, then said he was glad the stand was open (several of the eateries on the university campus close during the summer). Gabe said he would be closed the week before the fall semester started because he “had some things to do.”

I assumed, from a couple of comments he had made to me, that he would be changing his offerings in an effort to attract more people to Papa Lucks. I liked what the stand had to offer, but the Indian-curry place a hundred yards away had longer lines of students, faculty, and staff; and Govinda’s, located on my side of the campus (near Dole Street), had as many lunchtime devotees as it could want. When I went back to Papa Lucks after school started on August 20, it took no more than a few seconds to see that things were different.

How has the food stand changed? It now has more choices for vegetarians, such as

• a breakfast dish made with granola, strawberries, and açai fruit;
• a salad that includes cherry tomatoes, olives, and feta cheese and comes with a balsamic vinaigrette or creamy onion dressing; and
• smoothies made with fruit, yogurt, and juice.

It has more seating choices:

• Next to the stand, a bright-red umbrella now shades customers from the sun or protects them from the rain. Formerly, people were exposed to the elements and were often discouraged from sitting at the concrete table next to the stand.
• About half a dozen tables with chairs have been set up under the roof of the art building, creating the impression of an outdoor café.

It has more presence:

• A large, artfully lettered sign announces the specials.
• On the tabletops are menus in acrylic stands so that people make the connection between the seating area and Papa Lucks.

Some things have stayed the same, of course:

• The coffee drinks—my favorite is the iced cappuccino—are made with Grounds for Change, described in Papa Lucks’s menu as “a freshly roasted, organic, fair-trade, shade-grown coffee.”
• The fresh-baked quiche and pastries are good, though the latter change frequently and I can’t be sure my favorites will be there when I stop by.
• My preferred lunch—a $5.50 special featuring (a) a sandwich made with ciabatta bread, pesto, mozzarella cheese, and tomato, (b) a bag of Maui onion chips, and (c) a bottle of Perrier—is still available. (Of course, the lunch special includes a choice of sandwiches, chips, and drinks.)

With the advent of the fall semester, Gabe’s wife came back to help, and it’s a good thing she did. Business has picked up.

When you stop by, you’ll probably hear jazz playing and Gabe talking—in between taking orders and filling them—about the surf or method acting or the collages he enjoys making. Whatever is cooking at Papa Lucks, it’s a treat.