CK Smokehouse Fried Rice
‘There is a pride in creating something yourself and then seeing families come together to eat it. That is an achievement.’
<p style=”text-align: right;”><strong>—Fernando Molina, CK Smokehouse and Salad</strong>
AT CK Smokehouse and Salad, the signature scent isn’t an accident—it’s an invitation. The sweet, earthy perfume of hickory smoke is a deliberate promise, one that infuses even their most unexpected dish: a plate of fried rice.
Located besides the U.S. Post Office in Chalan Kanoa, this restaurant has built a loyal following by focusing on a simple goal: serving its neighbors food they genuinely want to eat and afford.
Chef Fernando Molina
In a small kitchen behind the steam tables, Fernando Molina is conducting an orchestra of sizzle and steam. At 70 years old, with a résumé that maps the island’s dining history—Mariana Resort, Chalan Kanoa Beach Club, Shirley’s Coffee Shop—he is the steady hand behind CK Smokehouse’s entire menu. He developed and designed it for a specific clientele not found in any tourist guide: the people of Saipan.
For Molina, the greatest reward in his long career is the creative freedom to build a menu from scratch and the simple pleasure of seeing it enjoyed.
“There is a pride,” he says, his eyes scanning the busy dining room, “in creating something yourself and then seeing families come together to eat it. That is an achievement.”
This pride is the cornerstone of his philosophy. He has cooked for resorts and coffee shops, but the direct connection here—seeing a familiar face light up after the first bite—is what truly matters.
“For 30 dollars, a family of four can have one full dinner meal in a friendly and nice restaurant,” Molina says.
This isn’t just a price point; it’s the restaurant’s entire ethos. The $17 adult buffet, likely the island’s most affordable, is packed not because it’s cheap, but because it’s honest. The value is in the portion, yes, but more so in the intention.
Molina’s path here was not preordained. He finished a tailoring course, a fact that makes perfect sense to anyone who understands his culinary method. His cooking is about the precise assembly of components, a construction of flavors meant to fit together seamlessly.
He started as a kitchen helper in the Philippines in 1969, learning the knickknacks of a professional kitchen through sheer repetition. He has, as the math easily confirms, cooked a literal truckload of fried rice in his lifetime.
He has had offers to run his own show—a food truck, a private venture—but he prefers the structure of a team. The Smokehouse crew is 13 people deep. It’s a practical choice, reminiscent of his youth working on a rice farm, where everything is a collective effort.
This collaborative focus is most evident in the restaurant’s fried rice, a deceptively simple dish that Molina has refined into a signature. Each version is tailored for a specific purpose.
The CK Smokehouse Fried Rice ($12.95) is the namesake for a reason. Molina adds a measure of hickory smoke syrup to the wok. The result is a plate of rice that carries the distinct aroma of the pit smoker out front. It’s a direct link to the restaurant’s core identity, a taste that regulars and older customers specifically seek out. He recommends pairing it with the Chicken Chaser, allowing the smoke in the rice to echo the smoke in the meat.
Spam Fried Rice
The Spam Fried Rice ($10.95) is a lesson in precision. Molina builds it on a base of sautéed garlic, then employs what he calls his “3-in-1 spice blend”: just black pepper, salt, and Ajinomoto. It’s a minimalist combination designed to amplify the salty, savory notes of Spam without hiding it. It is, unsurprisingly, a kids’ favorite, but its real genius is its focused simplicity. Molina avoids clutter, ensuring that the familiar, savory comfort of Spam is the undisputed star. His pairing advice is equally straightforward: the sizzling bangus. The rich, fatty milkfish stands up to the assertive simplicity of the rice.
Sausage Fried Rice
The Sausage Fried Rice ($11.95) relies on the flavors of Chorizo de Bilbao, its paprika-red oil staining the grains. The seasoning here is a “top secret” combination involving Knorr liquid seasoning, a detail that Molina reveals with a slight smile. It’s the all-around favorite, the most versatile plate on the menu. He suggests eating it with the sizzling tilapia, using the mild, flaky fish as a neutral counterpoint to the chorizo’s intensity.
Rice menu
The ambiance at CK Smokehouse is functional, not fabricated, yet it’s filled with character. The diner-style space is decorated with an unexpected but fitting theme: highway signs and route markers that give the feel of a well-traveled, classic American roadhouse. A small stage sits ready for a host to emcee karaoke or live events, transforming the room into a vibrant community center. It’s a cool, unpretentious place that is consistently full—not because it’s cheap, but because the food is good, honest, and fair. The crowd is local: families settling in for a weekly dinner, groups decompressing after a community event. And despite a menu that proudly features many fried items, the atmosphere feels light and welcoming, a testament to the care put into every dish.
Chef Fernando with the staff of CK Smoke House.
The true mastery of CK Smokehouse’s fried rice isn’t found in a secret ingredient or a complex technique. It’s found in its purpose. These are not side dishes; they are the hearty, affordable, and flavorful core of a shared meal. They are designed for passing around the table, for filling up hungry kids, for complementing a main dish, and for ensuring that no one leaves the table unsatisfied. In a bowl of smoky, savory rice, you taste the history of a chef who has dedicated his life to the craft of feeding people and the philosophy of a restaurant that measures its success in full stomachs and happy conversations.
For a family seeking a meal that feels both special and familiar, where the value is undeniable and the ambiance is alive with community, CK Smokehouse isn’t just a good choice—it’s the best place. It’s where a simple plate of fried rice becomes a reason to come together.