It was my first trip to Hawaii, and Giovanni’s was the place. Their Garlic Shrimp was the one I’d been hyping up to myself for months prior to my trip. I’d seen it all over my feed; I’d watched it on the Travel Channel and Food Network, and somewhere along the way it became the one singular thing I was most excited for about visiting Hawaii. So the day after my friends and I landed in Hawaii, we drove toward the North Shore, leaving a little after lunchtime. We thought we were being clever and trying to avoid some of the foot traffic. We rolled into Kahuku around 1:30, and soon after, we realized we were, in fact, not clever. At all. A large crowd was still packed in around that infamous graffiti-covered white truck like it was handing out free money. So we waited in line just like everyone else. It probably took us about 15 minutes just to order, then another 30 minutes for our food to come out. And honestly, it wasn’t that terrible, all things considered, because I had already mentally prepared myself to wait over an hour.

When that dish finally made it to my hands, I really couldn’t contain my excitement. Just a colorful paper plate, two scoops of warm rice, a pile of shrimp swimming in garlic and butter, a lemon wedge nestled between the rice. Nearly ten years later, I can still vividly remember that first bite. Stupidly juicy shrimp. The delicate little crunch of the shells. And the garlic butter that coated everything. My fingers and mouth included. It was just a little messy, but perfect in every way. No fuss, no pretension, just really good food in a parking lot off the side of the highway. Now, unfortunately, I don’t make it back to Hawaii nearly as much as I want to or need to. So in between trips, whenever I want that island feel, I make this at home for myself. And in my very, very humble opinion, it tastes just like what I remember, and maybe even a little better. But let’s keep that little secret to ourselves.

What is Hawaiian Garlic Shrimp
Quick confession. I misappropriated this dish when I first started making it. Like many other people on the internet and in real life, I called it Hawaiian garlic shrimp. Now, garlic shrimp was born on Oahu and made famous on the North Shore, but it isn’t Hawaiian food in the traditional sense. Hawaiian food is poi, laulau, kalua pig. The food of the people who were there first. Garlic shrimp belongs to something else: local food, or Hawaii-style food. It’s ubiquitous with plate lunches, and built over generations by all the different communities who call the islands home. So it’s not quite Hawaiian food, something entirely its own.

Ask a local, and they’ll just call it garlic shrimp. Maybe garlic butter shrimp. And Giovanni’s? They don’t even call it that. On their menu, it’s Shrimp Scampi. So that’s what I’ll call it here: garlic shrimp. It’s a small thing. But when you borrow somebody’s food, the least you can do is get the name right and show appreciation to the people and culture that it comes from.
The Truck That Started It All
Giovanni’s got going in 1993 with a converted 1953 bread truck and a handful of recipes, rolling up and down the North Shore and feeding surfers and beachgoers wherever it parked. In 1996, it settled in Kahuku, and that white truck, now buried under years of signatures and graffiti, became one of the most photographed lunches on the island. They’ve since added a truck in Haleiwa and a spot in Honolulu’s Kakaako neighborhood, but the menu barely changed, and that’s the point. Scampi. Hot and Spicy. Lemon Butter. Two scoops of rice. That’s it. They figured out what they do best and kept doing it. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other shrimp trucks and restaurants out there. Many folks say spots like Romy’s or Big Wave are even better, but to each their own.

How to Make Giovanni’s Style Garlic Shrimp
Marinate the shrimp. We start with Easy-Peel Shrimp to cut down on prep time. These are basically shrimp cut down the middle and deveined. Add them to a bowl and toss with mochiko flour, cornstarch, paprika, cayenne, MSG, and salt. Mix well, making sure every shrimp is evenly coated. Refrigerate the shrimp for 10 to 15 minutes so the flavors meld and the mochiko hydrates.

Deep-fry the shrimp. Add the coated shrimp into hot oil and fry for 2 to 3 minutes, until cooked through. Pull them out onto a wire rack and let them drain.

Garlic butter. Add a splash of neutral oil and as much butter as you can handle into a pan. Then add in an excessive amount of minced garlic. And seriously. The more, the better for the butter and garlic. Cook over medium-low heat for 1 to 2 minutes. You want it just starting to brown and crisp. Throw the shrimp back in and toss until every shrimp is glistening.

Serve. Using an ice cream scooper, add two scoops of rice onto your plate. Pile on the shrimp and then spoon every last bit of that garlic butter over all the rice and shrimp. Nestle a lemon wedge in between the rice and enjoy immediately!
Frequently Asked Questions
Do you eat the shell?
I do. A lot of people do. Fried shell turns thin and crisp and soaks up a ton of garlic butter, and honestly, that’s half the fun. Not into it? Peel at the table, but suck the sauce off the shell first. Nobody’s watching.
What are easy peel shrimp?
Shell-on shrimp that come already split down the back and deveined. All the flavor of shell-on shrimp, none of the tedious prep. Best shortcut in the seafood case.
Can I swap the mochiko?
In a pinch, all-purpose flour or cornstarch will work. It’ll still taste good. It just won’t have that same light, crisp texture. Mochiko is worth the trip to the store.
Can I skip the deep fryer?
Yes. Shallow-fry the shrimp in a skillet with a layer of oil, flipping once, until they cook through. The coating won’t come out quite as even, but nobody at your table is going to complain. Air frying is fine too, I guess. Whatever floats your boat.







