This oceanfront fan favorite is as popular as ever, so reserve a table far in advance. The fiddlehead fern salad features crunchy, earthy pohole ferns, a local delicacy you won’t find elsewhere. The extra smoky broth in the hapa ramen is rendered from pigs roasted whole in the traditional Hawaiian īmu (underground oven) at the lū‘au next door. The ‘ahi avo is simplicity itself: cubes of ruby red tuna and ripe avocado kissed by lemon, pressed olive oil, and extra-delicate soy sauce. The bar also turns out refreshing libations like Asian pear with vodka, muddled calamansi with gin, and watermelon sours — all perfect pairings with the salty breeze.

At Moku Roots, sandwiches come swaddled in ti leaves tied with banana-fiber twine, and drinks are delivered in refillable mason jars. But what’s inside the eco-friendly containers deserves equal praise. Try the vegetarian Rueben — brined eggplant, sauerkraut, and vegan cheese melted on rye — or the kabocha kale salad tossed in cardamom vinaigrette. Even the bar menu tilts toward the healthy, featuring a vegan colada with fresh macadamia milk and organic cane sugar. Co-owner Alexa Caskey harvests menu ingredients from her own farm down the road, Mala ‘Akala.

The restaurant’s motto, “This too shall pasta,” is perfectly apt for chef Michele di Bari’s menu. Most diners who find their way to this inconspicuous eatery on the backside of Front Street order the wood-fired pizza, and you can’t go wrong with the Bianca topped with sausage made in-house from Malama Farm’s kurobuta pork. But it’s the pasta that tugs at the heartstrings: hand-twisted strozzapreti, wide ribbons of pappardelle, and tantalizing spaghetti neri studded with fresh clams and smears of spicy Calabrian ’nduja. Start your meal with an Aperol spritz, and you might just think you’re in Milan, the chef’s hometown. Dine in or order online.

Owners Jojo and Eliza Vasquez pour their hearts into this laid-back eatery tucked away in a Napili strip mall. For lunch there are bentos and burgers, and for dinner, flavor-packed roast pork and lentil cassoulet served in a cast iron pan. The Wednesday special, the FFC (Fond fried chicken) bucket, is truly finger-lickin’ good. But the real magic happens on Sunday night, when a five-course dinner doubles as a cooking class. Reserve one of the few seats at the chef’s counter to watch as chef Jojo shows off his brand of molecular gastronomy. For an amuse bouche, he might whip vichyssoise into a pillowy foam sprinkled with crumbled biscuit and caviar, then follow it with fresh Perigord truffle shaved onto caramelized scallops. Even at $140 a seat, it’s a steal.

Situated just inland along the island’s western fringe, this all-day restaurant puts extra consideration into American standards: French toast with coconut creme anglaise and local eggs for breakfast, with salads, sandwiches, burgers, and pot pies for later in the day. Really, though, it’s the individual dessert pies — flaky of crust and generous of filling — that make Leoda’s worth pulling off the road for. Ubiquitous apple-crumb or berry variations round out the selection, but home in on the flavors that evoke the place: coconut cream, pineapple-macadamia nut, and Olowalu lime.

One of Maui’s few remaining mom-and-pop shops, Ichiban Okazuya didn’t just survive the pandemic; it expanded its hours. The plantation-era menu, which was perfect, remains unchanged, but the beloved local lunch spot now stays open until sunset, and customers can order from a takeout window instead of squishing in like sardines to the one-room kitchen. Plate lunches come with your choice of entree, side dish, and a scoop of rice. The chicken katsu might be Maui’s best, and the sauteed opakapaka (snapper) could sell for three times the price in a resort setting. Nourishing sides — nishime, wakame salad, and chow fun noodles — are even better topped with a few tempura shrimp.

Two friends launched this tiny tiki bar far off the tourist path in Wailuku. After a stroll around town to see the truly exceptional street murals, take a seat on the patio and sip on a tropical libation served in a ceramic mermaid cup. The Surf and Go Naked is a liquid slingshot of gin, lilikoʻi juice, and IPA caramel, while Mercury in Retrograde mixes mezcal with absinthe and a pineapple-coconut shrub. Hit up happy hour, when the barkeeps pour classic daiquiris straight up for $8. Tasty bar snacks include fresh guacamole and charcuterie with prosciutto, triple cream, and pineapple jam.

Chefs Shin Kim and Sean Ikeda blended their names to create Shikeda, a Japanese patisserie that regularly sells out of its delectable sweets and bentos by the afternoon. Get there at 11 a.m. sharp for the best selection of miso pork belly and unagi lunch boxes packed with ume-dusted rice and pickled seaweed. Or skip straight to the dessert case, which resembles a Bergdorf Goodman jewelry counter. The Totoro-shaped choux au craquelin (cookie-top cream puffs) are almost too adorable to devour. The pavlova are delicate ballerina skirts made of meringue. And then there are the roulades, light and airy roll cakes of every flavor: banana, matcha, Kula lavender, and holiday specials such as candy cane and cocoa. The chefs can’t quit experimenting, so look for new flavors to rotate in and don’t become too attached to anything that may rotate out.

Reggie Ballesteros helped open two street taco shops in Portland before returning home to Hawai‘i, where his tiny walk-up window in Kahului’s industrial sector is busy from the moment it slides open at 11 a.m. Tucked into hand-pressed corn tortillas, the rajas melt in the mouth, and the carnitas are fatty in the best, most flavorful sense. Make sure your order includes a scoop of esquites, and keep an eye out for specials like $3 taco Tuesday and the sloppy, celebratory plato de birria: three crispy tortillas stuffed with braised beef and melted cheese, served with consomé.

Inside a small health food store, the chefs at Broth ladle out wonderful bowls of ramen loaded with enoki mushrooms, broccolini, and char siu pork dyed pink with beet rather than typical food coloring. The ramen, along with banh mi and green bowls, is served until 5 p.m., but if you arrive before noon you can order avocado toast with lox, miso tahini, or curried chicken. The kitchen spotlights vegetables grown on nearby farms and happily accommodates paleo and vegan substitutions. The drink menu deserves careful consideration: It’s tough to decide between the matcha smoothie, fresh-pressed dragon fruit lemonade, and indulgent bulletproof nitro coffee fortified with coconut cream, almond butter, cacao nibs, and a coconut-based supplement called Brain Octane.

French-trained pastry chef Cole Hinueber left Spago to open this miniature five-star restaurant on wheels, currently parked at South Maui Gardens in Kīhei. In a monogrammed chef’s coat, Hinueber toasts wakame-flecked focaccia on a binchotan grill for the base of an open-faced ‘ahi Reuben. His bentos are edible jewel boxes packed with braised beef, seared swordfish, or tofu alongside nori-wrapped rice, market-fresh vegetables, and dollops of wasabi-pea puree. Don’t skip dessert here: Rich cacao sorbet comes in a hollowed-out cacao pod. It’s best paired with the financier topped with lilikoʻi sauce, toasted meringue teardrops, and Thai basil from the chef’s garden.

Ka‘ana Kitchen at the Andaz Maui at Wailea Resort is a standout among the island’s numerous hotel restaurants. It deftly channels local flavors into modern American plates: ‘Ahi tataki meets caprese salad in a clever synthesis that includes tomatoes, burrata, and lilikoʻi. Squares of fried mochi and a cornflake coating add textural dimensions to crackly fried chicken. Beer, wine, and cocktails receive equally thoughtful attention. Come early for a drink on the nearby terrace bar, which offers spectacular sunset views.

Akamai (which means “smart” or “clever” in Hawaiian) offers 100 percent Maui-grown and roasted coffee, including the award-winning Maui Mokka varietal. You can taste the quality in the cup, and the baristas know their business. In addition to perfectly foamy cappuccinos and lattes with decorative art, the cafe offers New Orleans-style cold brew with chicory and seasonal espresso drinks spiked with macadamia nut and butterscotch. To nosh on, try the sophisticated avocado toast sprinkled with microgreens or the Belgian waffle with berry compote. Bags of whole roasted beans are pricey but worth it. Beyond the brick-and-mortar cafe locations, Akamai operates two drive-up windows, one in Kīhei and another in Kahului.

Every Saturday, Only Ono BBQ hosts a dim sum drive-in at the Heritage Hall in Pā‘ia. Just text in your order by Friday night, arrive at your chosen time slot, pay via Venmo or cash in a sealed envelope, and your food is brought to your car. Chef Keith Apana knows barbecue inside out, and there isn’t a single dud on the menu. Standouts include the juicy shu mai, scrumptious bolo bao, and what might be the crispiest, most decadent roast pork outside of China. If there’s a Texas brisket special, nab it. And if you miss the Saturday rendezvous, you’ll have a second chance the following night. Only Ono offers a pared-down menu at the Maui Sunday Market in Kahului (where you also need to preorder).

At first glance, Mama’s comes across as a tourist snare. The tiki hut motif borders on kitschy and entrees cost an eye-popping $80, but the spot has legitimate appeal. Under Maui-born executive chef Perry Bateman, the kitchen team shows consistent, confident technique. Each fish is listed along with who caught it and where, which helps justify the price in an era of overfishing and mystery filets. As salt air wafts in from the private cove, waitstaff dressed in vintage Aloha wear deliver warm bread and an amuse-bouche, followed by starters like seared local octopus or grilled Haleakalā beef served in half a papaya. From there, dive into the fragrant bouillabaisse with saffron-scented chunks of Tristan lobster and Kauaʻi shrimp. Reservations fill up months in advance, so book as early as possible.

Chef Jeff Scheer is a purist. At Marlow, every ingredient must be exact, from the hand-milled flour in the sourdough to the Lopes Farm beef Scheer buys whole and breaks down into meatballs, briskets, and loins. His one-room Upcountry pizza kitchen is a celebration of local products: Elevated pizza toppings include Kaua‘i prawns roasted in the wood-fired oven, Kula zucchini lightly dressed in Parmesan cream, and braised pork with a dash of passionfruit butter. The fungi pie is a favorite, as is the duck confit with creamy cannellini beans and a hint of mustard. Bring friends so you can try all of the house-made gelatos: Kula strawberry, pistachio, cappuccino, and olive oil.

The owners of Nuka turned an old Hā‘iku auto supply into a wonderfully modern izakaya and sushi bar. Order a few small plates to start: spicy edamame, miso eggplant, and kinpira gobo (slivered burdock and carrot dressed in sake). Then dive into a sashimi platter, where the supply of fresh tuna and snapper is bolstered by the owner’s own fishing boat. Or for a simple, satiating meal, try a Nuka bowl: fresh herbs and veggies piled atop rice and topped with ‘ahi katsu, blackened tofu, or shio koji salmon. Patience is necessary here; they don’t take reservations, and the wait is often long.

To make use of the island’s surplus of bananas, a cottage industry of stalls that sell banana bread thrive throughout Maui. On the road to Hāna (an extraordinarily beautiful drive that will melt the cynicism of even the most jaded traveler), Aunty Sandy’s sits at a jut in the road near Ke‘anae Point — happily, at the precise location in the winding drive where a snack seems especially appealing, so it’s little wonder the business has thrived for more than 30 years. Bakers pull fresh loaves from the oven throughout the day, so chances are high that your banana bread will still be warm. The stand also sells drinks and shave ice.