The Bests

I didn't notice this last time I was on Maui, but evidently the preferred form of advertising here is to claim you are the best at something.  This applies most especially to food.  Presumably the only way to check the veracity of these proclamations is to try said gastronomic champion and see for yourself.  I have not done this.  If I had, I would have been eating non-stop since my arrival on the island and would have barely made it out of the strip mall across from our condo.  (Buddy the Elf would be positively orgasmic.)



Well, there's competiton on the Ka'anapali coast of Maui, because Java Jazz (in my little strip mall across the street) also claims to have the world's best coffee......and smoothies.  So, I decide to check out a cup of the coffee and it's fine.  But hardly the best.  In fact, of all the coffee I've had in the world (and that's been a lot), it's pretty hard to top Stell's in Redlands or Zona Rosa in Pasadena.  So, I passed on the smoothies.

Java Jazz also boasts the "happiest hour" on Maui.  (And the angriest fellow behind the counter.  A guy who hates Carter, Reagan, W, and Obama...and can't quite remember if he loves Sean Hannity or hates him too.)  Hmm...

Right next door is Soup Nutz, which is hoping to draw customers with its self-professed "best breakfast, lunch, dinner, and cocktails."  Memo to Soup Nutz management: there's a fine line between confidence and cockiness.

Across the parking lot is Nachos Grande, home of the "best Mexican food."  Better than what you can get in Mexico?

A couple tourist shops later--none of which seem to be hocking the world's best snorkels and fins--and I'm standing in front Hula Scoops, whose "Famous Tiramisu" is purportedly the "best dessert."  The sign out front also announces that Hula Scoops is "now serving breakfast burrito," which is just what I want from my ice cream/tiramisu shop.

Similar culinary confusion next door at Pizza Paradiso, which advertises the "best cheesesteak on Maui."  Apparently, their pizza isn't so great.

I'm not an advertising or marketing professional, but this oversaturation of superlatives seems like, well, the WORST THING EVER.  My first impression of their message is, "You are dumb tourists who bought the toy ukulele and fake lei at Hilo Hattie, so maybe you're oblivious to our obvious hyperbole too."

You've noticed I'm a cynic?

It's probably not quite that sinister, though.  After all, they're all just small businesses struggling to get by in a sagging economy hoping against hope that someone can still afford the airfare to their island.  And if someone really wants a one-stop shop for tiramisu and breakfast burritos, then it's quite clear where he should go.

For now, I'm content to lie underneath the world's best palm tree (debatable) on the world's best beach (not quite, but close), sipping the world's best Diet Coke (they're all pretty much the same) next to the world's best wife (undeniable).  Vacations, in my book, are all bests.