Eggs 'n Things, Waikiki, Oahu

Sorry punters - this review was written months ago and sat as a draft, unpublished. Here it is for your viewing pleasure.

Diamond Head - from a Waikiki surf paddle.

 

Biscuits - the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Gorilla Biscuit 'A' Team on their 6 month mission to explore strange new ugly scones, to seek out new exceedingly ugly employees, to boldly go where no biscuit maker has gone before...There is no other job that will send you halfway around the world just to ensure that you can smack your own head onto a table as often and as effectively. Gorilla Biscuits Pty Ltd is that company.

In the quest to be a stronger paddler I took some advice from Molokai Geoff last week and arranged a training session with one of the world's best paddlers on Saturday. Zsolt Szadovszki does one-on-one training classes for the meagre sum of $65 per hour, and I've got to say, I was mighty impressed. For an old bloke with a spare tyre more akin to a Mack truck than a Barina, I thought Zsolt was going to near-on kill me, and I wondered if I was wasting the man's time. Those impressions were knocked on the head as soon as I met the man - he was a deadset top bloke and couldn't have been more helpful.

I met Zsolt at his house in Hawaii Kai, which to the uninitiated is a canal suburb about 20km to the East of Waikiki. It was pretty clear which house was his - 6 Epic skis of varying descriptions were slung under the carport. Since I paddled the V10 Sport the other day, and since Mrs Blue has (kind of) given me the royal seal of approval to get one, I chose one of these for the session. This time, I didn't fall out even once. Zsolt was in a V8, just in case I had issues with stability and felt the need to swap.

Immediately, Zsolt gave me some great tips on my stroke. The info was coming thick and fast, and seeing that I was going to have a problem remembering it all, we focussed on two areas. I was filmed and after the session, the 'before' and 'after' comparisons were made. 'Before', for example, it was clear that I had no idea what I was doing and when I paddled I resembled a podgy 41 year old bloke trying to breakdance. 'After', I knew where some areas of improvement could be made and when I paddled I resembled a podgy 41 year old bloke trying to breakdance.  Clearly, there was a difference.

An hour paddling around Hawaii Kai made the class worth it. Being coached by a paddling legend was icing on the cake. Now to organise the V10 Sport and get it shipped home on the Gorilla Biscuit Express..."Tell 'im he's dreamin..." says Mrs Blue.

Eggs 'n Things - 343 Saratoga Rd, Honolulu, Hawaii, +1 808 923 EGGS, http://www.eggsnthings.com/

I walked around to Eggs 'n Things at 0730, having seen massive queues out the front on various days. Those of you who read this blog regularly will know how much I hate queues, and particularly breakfast queues. When I got there, at 0730, there was a queue. Apparently Japanese tourists don't party like rock stars and sleep in  until midday. Not happy, Jan.

The queue on the left, and the stairway to hell, right.

I was, however, there on my Pat Malone, which was my one saving grace and had prepared well for this eventuality by bringing a book. Having been given my buzzer - the place does not taking bookings - I waited for about 20 minutes before I was called forth to ascend the steps of destiny and enter the Holy Breakfast Shrine that was perched above the shop that advertised 'Smoking Implements'. As I climbed towards the light I could almost hear the sound of harps. I was seated at a bench overlooking the US Postal Service truck park, and with that ambience distracting me had not even picked up a menu before the waiter was there to take my drink order. A snappy look over the menu had my eyes rest firmly on Pineapple Tea, and it was there in a flash.

Eggs 'n Things, whilst obviously serving ...err... eggs 'n things seems to cater to the sweeter tooth slightly more than the savoury. There were shedloads of different crepes, pancakes and waffles and the lady next to me had a plate of five pancakes with a few blueberries, some icing sugar and a pile of whipped cream the size of a human head, in stark contrast to her 40kg-wringing-wet frame. There is also quite the selection of Spam-related  breakfast choices. Yes. Spam.

Straight from a can, most likely.

I settled for Crab Cake Benedict, imagining a freshly made crab cake drizzled with Hollandaise over two beautifully poached eggs. Computer says 'No'. What came out was the required English muffins with straight-out-of-the-packet crab cakes, barely cooked eggs (the white was even runny <gags>) and the sweetest Hollandaise I have ever tasted. I couldn't finish one, let alone the other. I paid my bill, leaving a tip "Cook the freakin' eggs!!!" and beat a retreat, running back to the hotel, all the while squealing "Make the bad man stop! Make the bad man stop!"

Never. Again.

Eggs 'n Things. 1/10. It gets a point for the view - if you like postie vans.