The flagship of this chain of 20 restaurants opened in Honolulu in 1988 by James Beard Award-winning Chef Roy Yamaguchi. In Chicago, Roy’s has been a presence in the Gold Coast’s awkward food scene for over a decade. Despite having lived here for the restaurant’s entire lifespan, I’d never heard of it. It’s no wonder, really—what place can a Hawaiian-European fine dining experience have among Chicago’s cornucopia of culinary experiences?
My dining companion and I were limited to Roy’s seasonal prix fixe (available through September); for $39.95, diners are offered a typical lineup of starter, main and dessert, with two options each.
I chose the heirloom tomato salad, which was simple and refreshing. I didn’t receive a certificate of origin on the tomatoes, but the toughness and lack of flavor of the halved cherry tomatoes atop a macadamia nut pesto suggested that “heirloom” was an overstatement. My companion chose the shrimp shumai; these fluted, open dumplings had a prismatic, complex flavor that, frankly, surprised me. We washed down our starters with one drink Hawaiian (a Hawaiian Martini, which is listed as a pineapple “drenched” (oof) in flavored vodka) and one drink American (a barrel-aged Boulevardier from High West). This would end up being the highlight of the menu, but not without some strong contenders.
Our mains were beautiful: He had the pan-seared catch of the day, which was adequately prepared, with crispy skin and fork-tender meat. It arrived alongside a gathering of patty-pan squash (think tiny, edible spaceships) and various other summery veggies. My Kona coffee-crusted pork and Kauai prawns truly hit the spot: Moist, fantastically seasoned pork, sliced on the bias, paired well with two small, well-charred prawns.
We ended our meal with two underwhelming desserts: the Applebee’s-worthy chocolate lava cake, drenched (they like drenching things!) with raspberry sauce. My passion fruit sorbet and white chocolate tart duo was an odd dish: the sorbet was spot-on, redolent of the tropical fruit, but the “tart” filling was reminiscent of white Play-Doh and plopped atop some uninspiring crumbs.
Roy’s is a curious place. It seems to favor accessibility over ingenuity, which means the Hawaiian flavor is used as a garnish rather than a centerpiece. Although my dining companion would love to check out the other items on the menu, on the next hot, Hawaiian summer day in Chicago, I think I’ll hula elsewhere.