We went to John Dominis Sunday evening. I was given a $100 gift certificate Christmas 2005 and I thought we'd better use it.
My husband's ahi was tasteless, as was the caper beurre blanc that smothered it. My onaga with crab was unsensational. For entrees at $27 and $35 respectively, this restaurant is full of itself. I can overlook the little boats the food appears on and the miniature wine glasses that probably came from Woolworths way back when. The service was pretty good, though. I felt like our waiter, our bus gal and the cocktail gal were attentive and friendly.
This place is all about real estate. It looks like the airport inside. It sounds like the airport inside (muzak). It smells like the airport inside (carnation lei). The table of seniors next to us had a discussion about all the pancakes they can eat at the Wailana; and then they wanted to know if the philodendrons hanging from the ceiling were banyan vines.
Have you ever heard of a chef associated with this restaurant? I don't think so.
What's the big deal? This is Howard Johnsons' on an ego trip. Take out your dentures and the food melts in your mouth.
The owners of this place ought to rethink its mission. I doubt it's making any money. It's sleepy in there. We attended Sunday brunch there 12 years ago and it was pretty good--back then.
It needs inspiration. They need to hire and promote a talented chef and kitchen staff. They need to liven up the menu. It's totally pre PacRim.
As we were leaving, a geriatric-type host informed us that our taxi for our ride back to Waikiki was on its way. We just smiled and walked over to the surf parking lot and got in our van.
Happy to be rid of my gift certificate but in need of an infusion of noisy youth--we went home to be with our lively kids.
No stars.
My husband's ahi was tasteless, as was the caper beurre blanc that smothered it. My onaga with crab was unsensational. For entrees at $27 and $35 respectively, this restaurant is full of itself. I can overlook the little boats the food appears on and the miniature wine glasses that probably came from Woolworths way back when. The service was pretty good, though. I felt like our waiter, our bus gal and the cocktail gal were attentive and friendly.
This place is all about real estate. It looks like the airport inside. It sounds like the airport inside (muzak). It smells like the airport inside (carnation lei). The table of seniors next to us had a discussion about all the pancakes they can eat at the Wailana; and then they wanted to know if the philodendrons hanging from the ceiling were banyan vines.
Have you ever heard of a chef associated with this restaurant? I don't think so.
What's the big deal? This is Howard Johnsons' on an ego trip. Take out your dentures and the food melts in your mouth.
The owners of this place ought to rethink its mission. I doubt it's making any money. It's sleepy in there. We attended Sunday brunch there 12 years ago and it was pretty good--back then.
It needs inspiration. They need to hire and promote a talented chef and kitchen staff. They need to liven up the menu. It's totally pre PacRim.
As we were leaving, a geriatric-type host informed us that our taxi for our ride back to Waikiki was on its way. We just smiled and walked over to the surf parking lot and got in our van.
Happy to be rid of my gift certificate but in need of an infusion of noisy youth--we went home to be with our lively kids.
No stars.
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