There’s something so fun about seeing where someone grew up. Like the first time I visited B2 in Hawaii — I mean, it’s pretty crazy to see what it’s like to grow up in a place like Hawaii to begin with, but I got overly sentimental seeing his old elementary school classrooms, the Banyan tree he used to climb during recess, the route he ran through Manoa for cross-country, his high school late-night hangout spots (you know, just places like this beach, no big deal.) As well as you know a person, it just feels like there’s a little something extra that falls into place when you know where they came from, too.
That first trip, B2 took me to a little Japanese-Italian fusion restaurant in Honolulu called Pietro’s, because it was a place he frequented in high school. So it’s entirely possible that my glowing impression of it was just a product of my rose-colored “oh my gosh this is the fabric of his existence” sentimentality, but I don’t think so — fusion can be a tricky thing to pull off, and that place knew how to play it. My favorite dish of theirs was a spicy spaghetti with ground beef, chilies and delicate Japanese eggplant — good, simple, un-fussy pasta with just a little Japanese touch.