The Best Hawaiian Food in the United States

A barely-there sign on Beacon Hill marks this casual Guamanian restaurant and bar, which is either accidental humility or the universe's way of filtering out TikTokers (it has not worked). The menu follows the chef's biography through Filipino chicken adobo tacos and Guam-style corn soup, but the achiote-orange empanadas, stuffed with raisined beef and served in a pool of fina'denne', are what drew a James Beard semifinalist nod in 2025.

Pork sisig made with pig's head, sizzling on a cast-iron at brunch, gives you a sense of how seriously Ed Kenney takes not taking things too seriously. This Kaimuki wine bar and restaurant runs on a modern Hawaiian sensibility, where lūʻau leaves show up in the fresh fish and mapo gravy lands on a biscuit. Kenney was a James Beard semifinalist, and the room fills with locals who already know the menu but still take a minute to choose.

The only all-local butcher case on O'ahu anchors this Kaimuki bakery and butcher shop, where the counter swings between venison chops and char siu croissants without missing a beat. House-made Spam shares space with liliko'i baklava danish, and the sandwich of the day rotates with whatever the butcher is working with. A James Beard Outstanding Bakery semifinalist, it's the rare spot where the lard in your almond cookie is a selling point, not a secret.

The house-made Spam in the kimchi fried rice is either the menu's punchline or its thesis statement, depending on your attitude. Ravi Kapur's Californian-Hawaiian restaurant on Sutter runs on strong cocktails and shareable plates, with an open kitchen keeping the room loud and sociable. The New York Times has called it one of San Francisco's 25 best restaurants, and it's held a Michelin Guide selection since the buzz was at its loudest.

Shave ice made with Maui-grown persimmons is not the shave ice you grew up with, and that gap tells you everything about this mid-priced Hawaiian regional restaurant. The team behind it came up through Alan Wong's, and the dining room has that same warm, attentive feel without the formality. The pastry side has drawn James Beard semifinalist nods two years running, and the desserts show why.

This is a small, counter-service Hawaiian spot in LoHi, built around poke bowls and griddled spam musubi, the kind of lunch that fits in one hand while the other holds a phone. Seating is a handful of painted picnic benches inside that fill up quickly, so plenty of people carry their food across to Hirshorn Park. It's a cheap, easy, solo-friendly stop, and the sort of room where nobody asks what you do for work.

The mochiko fried chicken, made exclusively from dark meat, is a reasonable place to start understanding what this Hawaiian plate lunch spot in Highwood is about. The chef went from feeding co-workers at a carwash to a brick-and-mortar in what feels like about fifteen minutes. Loco moco, huli huli chicken, and grilled pork belly land on your tray with the kind of confidence that got the place onto the New York Times list of top Chicago restaurants.

A humble neighborhood grocery store in Wailuku where the real draw is through the back, at the seafood counter. Poke here skips the trendy bowl format entirely: just impeccably fresh ahi, hamachi, and tako dressed in traditional Hawaiian seasonings, tasting clean and briny the way poke is supposed to. The pohole fern salad alongside is worth picking up too. Locals fill the counter fast, and they rarely need to look at anything twice.

The mochiko fried chicken, made with dark meat only, has apparently non-negotiable opinions about itself. This Hawaiian plate lunch spot grew from pandemic-era pop-up dinners to a downtown Chicago address, serving huli huli chicken, loco moco, and grilled pork belly to a city where 60 degrees is not, in fact, considered freezing. The New York Times named it one of Chicago's 25 best restaurants right now.

Polaroids of regulars tile every wall of this dimly lit East Village neighborhood restaurant, which has been doing Hawaiian comfort food long enough to feel like part of the block's furniture. The mochiko fried chicken comes with macaroni salad and King's Hawaiian rolls, the musubi platter runs from spicy spam to salmon tartare, and the German riesling list goes deeper than anyone sees coming. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and a genuinely easy room to spend a whole evening in.

Market Street Cafe is a big, cheap Hawaiian-leaning diner tucked inside the California Hotel, which makes it the logical landing spot for any group whose Vegas plans collapsed by noon. The menu runs on a clock: prime rib specials show up in the late afternoon, and the oxtail soup waits until after 11pm, a schedule that suits people with nowhere else to be. Wear whatever you slept in.

This is a counter-service Hawaiian and Filipino spot in a Las Vegas strip-mall unit, decorated like a beach cottage that has never heard of the Strip, complete with an island mural and a "let your dreams set sail" sign. The cashier calls everyone sweetheart. Plates run big enough to split, and the Spam musubi travels well, which is useful if you're headed somewhere with a bar and a dim view of outside food.

The elevator opens and wood smoke hits you before the tiki art does, drifting up from the massive open-flame grills below. This Polynesian lounge has been tucked under the Hilton Downtown forever, all bamboo and novelty glassware and rum drinks served in bowls the size of a small birdbath. Staff in Hawaiian shirts keep things unhurried. Order widely and let the table become the buffet it was always meant to be.

The lines at this Mesa plate lunch counter are long because the menu is short and the food moves. Hapa is one of the few independent Hawaiian spots holding its own against the chains in Phoenix, and it earned a Phoenix New Times Best Hawaiian Restaurant nod for the effort. Check their Instagram before you go since daily specials rotate fast. Save room for the malasadas, fried to order and stuffed with vanilla custard or ube cream.

Tiki without the plastic puffer fish: Daytrader threads that needle by keeping the vibe tropical and the design genuinely contemporary, with outdoor seating that includes little beach-shack nooks along the 30A corridor. The menu runs Polynesian and Hawaiian, leaning into sharable snacks, handhelds, rice bowls, and seafood mains alongside the kind of tiki cocktails that don't apologize for having an umbrella in them. Save room for the coconut custard cream pie with its mile-high meringue.

Spam musubi sits by the register for grab-and-go, which tells you exactly what kind of place this is. Diamond Head General Store is a Hawaiian plate-lunch counter in San Bruno where the mochiko fried chicken arrives craggy, peppery, and portioned for two people with ambitions of feeding one. Shave ice rounds out a menu that runs on comfort and not much pretension. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's best fried chicken spots.

An old poi factory turned roadside Hawaiian food spot on the Windward Coast, run by native Hawaiians who have been feeding people here for a while. The kanaka nui plate arrives loaded with pretty much everything the kitchen makes, and the warm kulolo with haupia ice cream is the kind of dessert that ends the conversation. Pull off Kamehameha Highway and eat outside; the atmosphere does a lot of the heavy lifting.

A family-owned restaurant and market where the steam trays hold Samoan turkey tails, Tongan taro leaf stew with lamb, and Hawaiian musubi, not the usual local lunch options. The LDS church's long missionary ties to the Pacific islands drew Polynesian communities to Salt Lake City, and Pacific Seas has quietly become their gathering place. Cool off with a mango 'otai, a blended coconut-and-pineapple drink that earns its space on the tray.

Sea turtles surface in the water a few feet from your table while you work through a menu that skews lighter than most oceanfront spots, with vegan and gluten-free options alongside fish sourced close to home. Mala is a Hawaiian seafood restaurant right on the Lahaina waterfront, and brunch draws a loyal crowd for eggs Benedict done several ways, including one with wasabi hollandaise that sounds like a dare and isn't.

The hapa ramen gets its smoky broth from pigs roasted whole in an underground oven at the luau next door, which is either the most Hawaiian supply chain imaginable or proof that good neighbors make good soup. This oceanfront Asian family-style restaurant in Lahaina fills up fast, so book ahead. Pohole fern salad and raw ahi with avocado share the menu with inventive cocktails built around calamansi lime and Asian pear.

Sea urchin lanterns and hand-painted wallpaper set the tone for what turns out to be a serious cocktail bar tucked inside an easy-to-miss strip of shops in Wailea. The drinks lean into the island without becoming kitsch, and the zero-proof menu gets the same care as everything else. Bar snacks lean toward candied macadamia nuts and Chamorro-style shrimp cups. A 2026 Spirited Awards Regional Top 10 Honoree for Best U.S. Cocktail Bar.

A grab-and-go musubi counter inside the Aqua Pacific Monarch Hotel, with the largest menu of the three Waikīkī locations. Fresh rice gets packed around fried chicken, salmon with roe, or any number of Spam variations, including one loaded with avocado, bacon, and egg that operates as a breakfast sandwich in musubi form. The space is small, the turnover is fast, and the whole operation runs on the principle that rice pressed around a good filling is a complete argument.

Counter service Hawaiian barbecue tucked into the shipping container courtyard at the Churchill, just off Roosevelt Row. The move is a mixed plate piled with kalbi short ribs, kalua pork, and teriyaki chicken, everything sitting on rice with a scoop of mac salad alongside. It's the kind of meal that's better shared, partly for variety and partly because the portions don't encourage restraint. Phoenix New Times named it the city's top Hawaiian restaurant in 2025.

Glazed, caramelized Spam wrapped in nori is on the menu, and at Onolicious it is a completely reasonable lunch. This casual Hawaiian spot grew from a food hall stall into its own brick-and-mortar, serving shoyu chicken and musubi to a city that has taken the whole thing rather seriously. The team brings a laid-back luau spirit to downtown Cincinnati, which is a sentence that works out better than you'd expect.