Game-day grinds

For as long as I can remember, food has been an essential part of every sporting event that has drawn me to a stadium. Getting something good to eat was as important as a good seat.

At Anaheim Stadium, official home of the California Angels in the mid-1990s, I had to have a sausage sandwich and cold beer in my hands before I even found my seat. Farther inland at California League baseball games at Fiscalini Field in San Bernardino, hot dogs loaded with chili were a must.

Even when I was a child watching the Hawaii Islanders in the old Hono­lulu Stadium, no game was complete without a bowl of S&S Saimin.

But Aloha Stadium has failed to tackle my taste buds with a signature dish. There is no one item I have to eat when attending University of Hawaii Warrior football games, nothing that sets my mouth to watering on the walk from the parking lot.

That biting reality worried me as I walked the stadium concourse in search of food with my good friend Alan Yonan before the team’s season opener against Colorado Sept. 10, scouting recommendations in anticipation of the next home game Saturday.

We were looking for something unique, and at first glance it appeared there were choices everywhere. What we quickly realized, though, was that a lot of it was stuff you could get any day of the week at any plate lunch counter or pizza joint in Hawaii.

Then we found something in a cloud of white smoke in the north end zone: the Undakava Steak Plate, which at $12 felt pricey for the stadium even as the aroma lured us like a siren. Working the grill was Undakava (it’s not Greek; say it out loud and you’ll get it) owner Ala-pati Manutai, who said he marinates cuts of top sirloin for three days in a shoyu-based sauce.

The plate was hefty with a dozen juicy slices of steak cooked with just the right amount of pink on the inside and char on the outside.

Although the meal came with two scoops of rice, they were so small that they barely qualified as a single serving. And while it also came with a side of canned corn, we ditched the idea altogether in favor of a golden yellow ear from nearby Hawaiian Roasted Corn. Even at $5 apiece it was worth it. There was a whole row of flavored salts but nothing could beat the taste — and the intoxicating smell — of fresh roasted corn. I had worried the assembly-line approach to cooking the corn would have marred the taste, but this was perfect — the kernels thick and juicy with every bite.

We figured that no look at stadium food would be complete without sampling a few hot dogs. This turned out to be a complete waste of time. Our philosophy was to pit a hot dog from the home team — stadium food franchise holder Centerplate — against an outsider. We settled on Woody’s Hot Dogs as the visiting team and stood in separate lines at the start of halftime.

Woody’s advertised several items. Although tempted by the Italian sausage ($5.50), I decided to go for the jumbo dog ($4.75). But after only five minutes in line Woody’s had run out of hot dogs. Even the meatball sandwich ($5.50) was taken off the menu.

My buddy Alan, however, returned with the War Dog, a massive meat missile for $7.50. But size couldn’t help this dry and tasteless foot-long. It was so tough, it felt more like a weapon than dinner.

But I found Nirvana in the north end zone. That’s where Tita’s Grill — the same family restaurant across the highway from Kahuku High School — had set up shop for the first time.

I admit that when I initially walked by Tita’s, I wrinkled my nose at the tuna melt on the menu. I came back, though, for the pastrami sandwich and found a $7 round trip to heaven. It features a pile of pastrami served on inch-thick slices of homemade bread, all of which is grilled right there and then slathered with a secret sauce. A little greasy for some, but that only added to the charm as far as I was concerned.

Taking the orders was Keleise Taulogo, sister of Junior Ah You, Tita’s Grill owner and former Kahuku and Arizona State University football standout. The appeal of the sandwich was easy to pinpoint, she said, as three generations of family members feverishly cooked behind her.

"It’s the bread and the humongous size of the sandwich," she said. "It’s so large, some people can’t finish it."

Not me. I had found the missing link to my Aloha Stadium experience. I wanted another.