Zippy’s Restaurant is a Hawaii franchise that specializes in local favorites like saimin, golden crispy chicken, oxtail soup, and President Obama’s favorite - the Zip Pac, a bento box that includes fried chicken, teri beef, fish fillet, spam, and rice. So, when I found out that Zippy’s in Pearl City, about ten minutes from where I live, had a sushi bar, the first thing that came to mind was, “Really?” I just had to check this out! So, on a Friday evening after work, I convinced my wife for a sushi night, and off we went.
Zippy’s at Pearl City, located on the mountain-side of Kam Highway next to a steep road, is a red two-story building overlooking Pearl Harbor with a parking garage on the ground floor. It has all the three standard features of a Zippy’s - a Napoleon’s Bakery on the front, a fast food area on the right, and a dining-in area on the left side; and, as I now know, a sushi bar. We were greeted warmly by the usher and the sweet smell of baked goodies. As we were being led to our seats on the bar when a loud booming voice startled us with, “Irasimasé!” The voice came from a smiling sushi chef dressed in immaculate double-breasted whites. His name tag read, “Yoshi.”
Drawing from my small arsenal of Japanese, I replied, “Konnichiwa, Yoshi San!,” as we took our seats. “Hai!,” he said, “Irashimasé is traditional Japanese welcome. Here in Hawaii, we should say, HMSA!,” and he started laughing. (HMSA is a healthcare insurance company). We laughed, too. Don’t ask why; I guess one has to be local to find the humor. He then asked, “You like to start with miso?” We said yes and he motioned his sous chef who filled two bowls with the hot soup.
As we were enjoying our miso, he said, “I have best view of sunset. This time of year, sun sets in Makaha. Soon it will set in Nanakuli, then Ewa.” As he was talking, he was squinting his eyes, presumably from the sunlight, and pointed from northwest to southwest with his hand in a chopping motion like he was cutting fish. We, including the only other customer at the end of the bar, turned around and witnessed through the bare glass windows the last rays of the sun piercing some low-lying clouds, providing a spectacular tableau. We all nodded in agreement.
I ordered maguro sashimi after we finished our soup. The chef pulled out a slab of nice, firm bluefin tuna onto his chopping board. With his razor sharp knife glistening under the track lights, he methodically sliced eight equally thin cuts, shiny and red in their freshness, and neatly arranged them on a plain white rectangular china. He then placed small amounts of wasabi paste and pickled ginger, completing the art piece. He handed it over with a grin and a bow. I returned the bow and said, “Arigato guzaimasu!” (Thank you very much!).
The sashimi was delectable! The freshly pounded wasabi had an extra kick to it as the strong aroma permeated through my nostrils and momentarily froze my brain. I loved it! I next ordered nigiri sushi - uni (urchin roe) and amaebi (sweet shrimp). Yoshi San moistened his hands with vinegar water then scooped just enough rice on one palm. He then expertly formed the rice into a lump with his fingers before wrapping it with nori (seaweed), making sure the nori extended a tad over the rice to keep the slippery roe in place. Using a long pair of chopsticks, he picked a generous sliver of uni from a bowl, laid it expertly on top of the molded rice, then started a row on a wooden serving block. The amaebi heads were expertly pulled, passed to the sous chef who dipped them in a batter, then deep fried them. Leaving the tails intact, the shells were peeled off before the plump, naked shrimps were laid onto the molded rice minus the nori, forming the second row. This masterpiece was garnished with the crispy shrimp heads pointed up, whiskers and all. They looked deceivingly prickly to the touch.
While we were enjoying this luscious array, I had a chance to observe our chef. Yoshi San is in his mid-sixties, a little on the heavy side, well-fed, undoubtedly a job benefit. He has a perpetual smile and he wrinkles his thick eyebrows and squints his already squinty eyes when he talks. I’m not sure if this is a mannerism or maybe that he just needs glasses. I guess the squinting wasn’t from the sunlight, after all. He said he was originally from the Japanese island of Kyushu. He moved to Hawaii in the mid-80’s, worked for a restaurant in Maui for about ten years, then moved to Oregon. Missing the warm Hawaii weather, he came back, this time to Oahu, in the mid-2000’s, and has been on this job since. He said he lives just a few blocks away and walks to work. Obviously, a very contented man.
As more customers shuffled in, the sound of lively chatters steadily rose. Through the cacophony of voices, Yoshi San asked us if there was anything else. I said, “Omakasé shimasu, kudasai.” (Please choose for us). He went back to work with the precision of a surgeon, molding rice and slicing fish. This time the fish cuts were so big they were dangling on both ends of the the molded rice. As he handed the plate of sushi over, he said with his biggest smile of the night, “This is my favorite.” I immediately recognized the pink colored and rich textured fish - hamachi (yellowtail amberjack), my favorite, as well.
Soon, Yoshi San was consumed with other customers, food servers, his sous chef, and the rapid yet orchestrated art of sashimi- and sushi-making. Like a painter delicately running his brush on canvas, he doled out his masterpieces one after the other. Before we left, I managed to grab his attention to say goodbye. He gave me a deep bow and said, “Arigato guzaimasu, ja mata!” (Thank you very much, see you again!) A new couple sat in our place and as we were walking out, we heard the now familiar loud booming voice, “Irashimasé!”
