Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Hawaii's Cuisine
The word 'cuisine' almost sounds too formal for Hawaii. It suggests a need
for a regimented approach to food that doesn't quite work for these laid-
back islands. Here culinary traditions are enthusiastically off-the-cuff, with
foreign flavors and cooking styles incorporated and shared - usually in
heaping, savory portions. This no-worries fusion of global flavors is reflec-
ted nowhere better than in the state's most iconic dish: the plate lunch, a
tasty insouciance that flouts any formal rules.
Edible Hawaiian Islands
(
www.ediblehawaiianislands.com
)
, a colorful quarterly magazine
focused on Hawaii's locavore movement and foodie trends, is available free at local res-
taurants, gourmet food shops and natural-foods grocery stores.
The Island 'Diet'
To understand Hawaii's gastronomy, it's helpful to think about the state's multicultural
background. Before human contact, the only indigenous island edibles were ferns and
oh-
elo
berries. In their wooden canoes, Polynesians brought
kalo
(taro),
ʻulu
(breadfruit),
ʻu-
ala
(sweet potato),
maiʻa
(banana),
ko
(sugarcane) and
niu
(coconut), as well as chickens,
pigs and dogs for meat, and they harvested an abundance of seafood.
Starting with Captain Cook in 1779, Western explorers dropped off cattle and goats,
while later missionaries imported tropical fruits such as pineapple and guava that now
connote Hawaii. When the sugar industry rose in the late 1800s - bringing waves of im-
migrants from China, Japan, Portugal, Puerto Rico, Korea and the Philippines - Hawaii's
cuisine developed an identity all of its own. It took immigrant imports like rice,
shōyu
(soy sauce), ginger and chili pepper, but never abandoned Hawaiian staples such as
kalua
pork and
poi
(steamed, mashed taro).
What does all this mean for visitors? Always sample the unknown, take another bite
and travel the world on a single plate. Hawaii isn't a place to diet - it's the
broke da mout
(delicious) reward.
Manapua,
the local version of Chinese
bao
(steamed or baked filled bun), probably de-
rives from either of two Hawaiian phrases:
mea ʻono puaʻa
(ʻgood pork thing') or
mauna
puaʻa
(ʻmountain of pork').
