My brother was a waiter for 20 years and he had this nailed. Because he worked in a Waikiki restaurant with many Japanese customers, he learned fractured Japanese, including funny lines and retorts, convulsing Nihongo diners. He'd speak pidgin with locals, and maybe slip them an extra dessert, knowing how difficult it is for us to afford hotel prices. Above all, he was himself: He wasn't just trying to cadge a good tip; he was trying to make his evening and yours enjoyable.

I can barely recall one server this year who made an impression on me, made me want to go back to the restaurant or remember his or her name. That's sad. And, in this economy, senseless.

Something about this complaint, however, brings out the inner Anthony Bourdain in me, the part that wants to sneer, "Better you don't look." Also, the part that asks, "Where's the smoking gun?" Yes, unsafe kitchen practices can make you sick, but how often have you suffered "food poisoning"?

My advice: If you are concerned, check out the bathroom before you order. If it's clean, the kitchen probably is, too. Or stick to the practice my trekking friends follow overseas: Order only piping hot cooked food, and if you can actually see the cook preparing it, even better.

Look, I get it that waiters work for tips. I get it that people with special needs can interrupt the serving flow and complicate the ticket. I get it that, if someone comes in on an Early Bird special or doesn't order alcohol, the check will be smaller. You can just see a server's expression go blank when you say you'll "stick with water."

They look equally woeful whenever I dine alone and, despite the fact that this practice has been repeatedly bemoaned and condemned, a female "one-top" always ends up seated next to the kitchen door.

All diners ought to be treated the same, whatever the anticipated total at the bottom of the check.

LITTLE HAS CHANGED

There's no denying that for its population size, Hawai'i has a lot of great food, great local ingredients and its share of great chefs, from highbrow (George Mavrothalassitis of Chef Mavro) to low (Nicolas Chaize of Nico's Pier 38). But the top names in local chefdom have changed little in the last five years (or even 10).

Happily, the most notable additions have been made in that yawning gap of casual and cool mid-priced restaurants — people like Ed Kenney and Dave Caldiero at town, Keith Endo at Vino, Kevin Hanney at 12th Ave Grill, and Scott Nelson at Brasserie Du Vin. (And lucky Kaua'i got Jim Moffat at Bar Acuda.) But in restaurant years, even these guys are old news.

A goat cheese Farmers Series dinner at Alan Wong's highlights a local ingredient to delicious effect; the alae'a-rubbed steak at 3660 on the Rise is still tempting after, what, a decade? But these places are held hostage by their Hawai'i Regional Cuisine reputations. While they're top-flight, the chefs are no longer cooking outside the box they created 16 years ago.

Learning institutions from Maui Community College to Kapi'olani Community College tout their culinary schools, which disgorge graduates every year, and more than a few Islanders have made their way to famous chef-makers such as the Culinary Institute of America. And many of them take initiative, extending their education through travel. I know one young aspiring chef working in a famous local kitchen who went to New York just to eat this year. The breadth of what he consumed in a week was astounding, and he spent his last pennies to be able to dine at the top of the food chain — Per Se.

David Chang, 31, burst on to the New York restaurant scene in 2004 with his Momofuku Noodle Bar. In his hands, lowly ramen becomes revelatory (and doesn't even look different from the usual stuff). But he's not resting on his pork steamed buns; he's opened two other restaurants, both culinary departures from his original.

The drive, passion and, I assume, talent are here. So where is Hawai'i's David Chang?