No hokey poke at downtown spots
Central Arkansas can be as much as two years behind any national trend in fashion or food, which sort of explains why we’re sort of suddenly getting poke-d.
We’re talking poke, mon. (It’s a two-syllable word, pronounced “POH-ke,” but our typograhical system and style don’t permit diacritical marks.) It’s a trendy Hawaiian dish in a bowl, centered primarily on bite-size, sushi-grade fish, served over rice and accompanied by an array of fruits, vegetables, sauces and garnishes, that has been trendy for some time on East and West coasts. Consider it the next culinary step up from sushi, for jaded folks for whom plain nigiri (fish on rice) or sashimi (just the fish) has become too darn dull.
A poke bowl can be as much or as little of an olio as you want: simple (some fish, some rice, a couple of soybeans and a few sesame seeds), or complex — load on those toppings, and thereby get a lot of food for not so much money.
Downtown Little Rock has seen the recent, practically simultaneous opening of two poke restaurants a few blocks apart:
Poke Hula occupies an East Third Street space in the River Market District, in a former microbrewery taproom-slash-upscale taco joint.
Ohia Poke is in a space on Sixth Street a couple of blocks west of Main that most recently was the lamentably brief home of The Veg (ousted in the wake of a hideous mass shooting in the upstairs private club) that had previously housed various incarnations of Lulav.
The similarities are significant; the differences, relatively minor. Both allow customers a wide range of choices of demonstrably fresh ingredients; both feature friendly, helpful staff who will gladly guide you through the process and even make recommendations on request.
Confusion is natural — we witnessed on more than one occasion customers at one establishment, having compiled an order off a website, trying to order ingredients on the menu at the other place, and
people expecting to meet friends at the one restaurant who were waiting for them at the other one.
Service at both establishments is via an assembly line. Start with the basic bowl — three sizes (small, medium and large) at Ohia Poke, two sizes (regular and large) at Poke Hula — and choice of bases (three at Ohia, four at Hula). At each station along the line, the server adds scoops of protein (literal scoops, with an ice cream scooper), mix-ins (that’s where the fruits and vegetables come in), sauce(s) and toppings.
If you don’t care for fish, both places offer chicken and tofu. There is, however, no pig in this poke — neither outlet offers a pork option. And though a nice craft beer would go well with the poke, there is no brew, wine or booze option at either establishment.
POKE HULA
Poke Hula owner co-Amy Weng is well acquainted with the restaurant business — she also co-owns and operates Samurai Japanese Steakhouse & Sushi Bar on South Shackleford Road, and openly touts her family’s long experience with sushi.
Depending on how you define “classy,” Poke Hula is a little classier, done up in warm, darker colors, with pleasant artwork on the walls. There are very few seats, perhaps two dozen, red-painted contemporary aluminum bar stools (the ubiquitous kind with the slot in the seat) drawn up along a pair of countertops. (A wintertime drawback: No place to hang coats. You’ll have to keep them on, drape them over adjoining unoccupied bar stools — not an option when the place is crowded, as we have always found it at lunch — or just drop ’em on the floor.) A pop-classic rock soundtrack is at a volume that permits conversation.
The menu provides for build-your-own options, regular (two scoops of protein, $9.50), and large (three scoops, $11.50), over a base of white rice, brown rice, mixed greens or kale chips. Add a protein scoop for $2. Choices include cubed sushi tuna, marinated tuna, spicy tuna, salmon, spicy salmon, shrimp, octopus salad or chicken. Tofu is listed among the mix-ins. You can choose two or three different proteins, or multiple scoops of the same stuff.
Mix in cucumber, carrots, green onions, jalapenos, edamame, sweet corn, sweet onion, pineapple and/or masago (the bright-orange, small-egg salmon roe) for free; adding avocado, seaweed salad or crab salad costs a buck more apiece.
All bowls come with the house Hula Sauce; add, if you wish, a vinegary ponzu, wasabi creamy, sweet sesame soy, somewhat spicy sriracha spicy mayo (one pepper on the menu) or very spicy Korean Gochujang (three peppers).
And on top you can add, primarily for texture and/ or for taste, sesame seeds, pickled ginger, crispy onion, furikake (a dry Japanese seasoning typically consisting of dried fish, sesame seeds, chopped seaweed, sugar and salt ), wasabi and/or dried seaweed.
Hula also has five signature bowls:
Fire Bowl ($11.50), spicy salmon, spicy tuna, avocado, edamame, masago and sriracha mayo
Hawaii Bowl ($10.50), tuna, onion, masago, green onion, seaweed salad and ponzu sauce
Hula House Bowl ($12.50), tuna, salmon, shrimp, cucumber, green onion, edamame, crab salad, seaweed salad, sriracha mayo sauce
Wasabi Lover Bowl ($11.50), shrimp, tuna, cucumber, carrot, edamame, corn, avocado, wasabi creamy sauce
Chicken Bowl ($9.50), chicken, onion, edamame, cucumber, green onion, carrot, sweet soy sauce, sriracha mayo sauce.
Also an option, but not on the menu: a Veg Bowl ($8.50).
Get your soft drinks — bottled water, sodas, teas, etc. — from a cooler just past the cash register.
With the possible exception of the sriracha mayo — we’ve never really been fond of spicy mayonnaises encountered at Japanese restaurants — we enjoyed our Fire Bowl. It was lightly spicy but not especially fiery, and offered a pretty good variety and balance of tastes and textures. (We chickened out and didn’t order the really spicy sauce at either restaurant.)
We made good choices on two of our three build-ityourself bowls: one to-go, with white rice, tuna, salmon, edamame, avocado, dry seaweed and ponzu; and an eat-in with brown rice, marinated tuna, shrimp, masago, ponzu, sesame seeds, dry seaweed and crispy onion and double edamame (the staff’s choice, not ours, which turned out to be a good idea).
However, Intrepid Companion regretted choosing the sweet sesame soy sauce for her brown rice-marinated and spicy tuna-cucumber-green onion-crispy onion bowl, proclaiming the result just too sweet.
OHIA POKE
The decor at Ohia Poke is very white, the walls primarily sporting white subway tiles or whitewash (except for a patch of the original brick on which hangs the only decor piece, a stylized portrait of a Star Wars imperial storm trooper). They’ve chosen to rent only the original restaurant space, not the next-door building entryway, which has been a component of previous occupants, so the result is kind of cozy.
There are three glossywhite high tables, which seat eight apiece, with those slotted aluminum bar stools, and three low tables, which each seat four, with chair and bench seating. Interestingly, the space’s original tin ceiling has survived almost three decades while the occupants have turned over with revolving-door frequency.
Ohia Poke’s assembly line is build-your-own only; it’s behind thick, tall glass sneeze guards that, while they protect the food and the customers from each other, also inhibit communication between customers and staff. (We more than once found ourselves having to repeat and/or even shout our choices.) A small bowl gets two scoops of protein, three for a medium, five for the large, and you can mix and match or get all those scoops of the same item. The selections differ slightly — Ohia Poke has no octopus salad, but offers tiny scallops. The chicken and tofu are organic; the “crab salad” is a mix of actual crab meat with quasi-crab surimi. Salad greens are only available as a base in the medium bowl (which used to be white and round, and is now black and rectangular).
The five sauces: ponzu, spicy mayo, Aloha Classic, Gonchu and wasabi miso. There’s no extra charge for avocado or seaweed salad. Fruit mix-ins includes tangerines, easily mistaken for Mandarin oranges.
We were more than satisfied with both our medium bowls: shrimp, tuna and tofu over white rice, topped with edamame, masago, fried garlic and seaweed strips; and shrimp, tuna and scallops over brown rice, with avocado, seaweed salad, masago, tangerines, fried garlic and sesame seeds with shredded seaweed.
Beverage-wise, Ohia Poke offers conventional sodas in cans, plus a coconut-flavored one (product of Puerto Rico) that pairs really well with poke, and a selection of flavored waters and fruit juices.