☼ CHUNKY JESUS ☼

How a Loud New Yorker & a Spicy Tuna Roll Changed My Life

​​Back in the mid-90s, I was the food writer and restaurant critic for The Honolulu Advertiser​, Hawaii’s #1 newspaper at the time. My job was to eat, analyze, and somehow wrangle 1,000 words out of a single meal. Sounds dreamy, right? In reality, it often involved staring at my notes wondering how to make “pretty good miso soup” sound like Pulitzer-level prose.

One night, I walked into a sushi spot, ready to review. That’s when I saw him​, Marty. Tall, loud, unmistakably New York. He was posted at the takeout counter, inhaling spicy tuna rolls with the intensity of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. Our eyes met briefly, and it was clear: this guy was a hardcore foodie.

Turns out, Marty had been reading my reviews for years, dissecting them like scouting reports, knowing every hidden gem I’d ever covered. We launched into an impassioned, rapid-fire debate outside the restaurant​, truffled crab ramen at D.K.’s, garlic mochiko chicken at Sugoi, the best Portuguese sweet bread in town.

Marty had a way of talking that landed somewhere between cartoon character and high-speed auctioneer. It was impossible not to grin when he spoke.

We exchanged business cards, wrapped up our conversation, and just as I was about to leave, Marty casually mentioned he had to head to Chunky Jesus.

I blinked. “Chunky Jesus?”

Was this some underground church I’d never heard of? A secret Honolulu foodie hotspot? Some bizarre cult that required full stomachs before worship?

Years later, the truth finally emerged.

Chunky Jesus = Chuck E. Cheese, as pronounced by Marty.​

And honestly, I still think Chunky Jesus is the better name.