Hawaiian Food

This page is an brief discussion on the various ethnic Hawaiian dishes. If you would like to learn about the individual Hawaiian food restaurants, please see this link for a list of Hawaiian restaurants.

Before exploring current Hawaiian food types, let’s first very briefly describe some of the ancient Hawaiians foods. As many other subsistence cultures, they thrived on a diet of fresh fish, vegetables, fruits, and occasional cooked meats. The earliest settlers were Polynesians from the Marquesas Islands, who came 300 to 600 years after the birth of Christ and brought with them such animals as small pigs (not the larger ones brought later by the Europeans), chickens, and dogs, as well as fruits and vegetables like taro, banana, and breadfruit. These items were to complement the indigenous food choices already there, such as sweet potatoes, berries, ferns, and an abundant sea life.

They were quite adept farmers of both the land and the sea, and built countless loko i’a, or fish ponds, to capture and raise many types of fish, including the prized moi, or Pacific Threadfin, which was only served to royalty because of the ono (delicious) quality of its tender white meat. Just inland lay the large, excavated taro farms, or lo’i, fed by an abundant and steady supply of stream water. The taro root bulb was taken and pounded, literally, into a sticky paste of purple wonder and was the predominant starch of the ancient Hawaiian diet.

Hawaiian food served today comes from a relatively short list of items as well as a relatively short list of restaurants. Many of these eateries will supplement their menus with other non-native dishes such as shoyu chicken, kal-bi (Korean marinated short-rib), and teriyaki beef. The following section describes the types of foods considered “proper” Hawaiian foods.

“Proper” Hawaiian Foods

Clockwise from right: chicken long rice, opihi, and kalua pig from Helena's.

The main star of the show, Kalua pig, can be experienced in much the same manner as the old days, with a big “if.” That is, “if” they cook it in an imu, or underground oven, as some of the luau’s do. You know, where they stuff a whole pig with hot coal-like rocks, season it generously with natural rock salt, wrap it in banana or ti leaves for moisture and added flavor, and bury it underground to slowly cook. As fall-off-the-bone good as that sounds, most restaurants settle for the convenience of a modern oven. Myself, I’ve tasted both ways, so believe me even in my cultural incorrectness, both ways can be absolutely great if done correctly, and both ways can be pretty bad if done incorrectly. In other words, don’t make too big of a deal about electric, gas, or…. Rock?

The co-star that will often steal the spotlight from right under the pig’s nose is the lau-lau, a moist and delectable goodie bag of pork, chicken, and/or fish, wrapped tightly in taro leaves, all wrapped again in a sturdy ti leaf (which is discarded after cooking) and steamed or placed in, yes indeed - our hot-rock imu.

A combination take-out plate from Yama's, showcasing lomi-salmon, kalua pig, and a still-wrapped lau-lau. The pork, chicken, and/or butterfish inside of the lau-lau, along with an inner wrapping of luau leaf, are all steamed to a savory, fall-off-the-bone finish.

Concluding the big three main dishes found at most Hawaiian food eateries is the Chinese-influenced creation of chicken long rice. Chicken is mixed with a rice noodle, onions, and other garnishes, all mixed in a clear broth (the broth is sometimes plentiful enough to resemble a soup noodle; at other times it's not quite as noticeable).

Is that a tentacle? Visitors won't find squid luau at any of the tourist-oriented luau's, but this intimidating-looking mix of dull green is very popular among locals and sure to be on the menu at any sit-down Hawaiian restaurant.

The sleeper in this production is one item you might choose to pass up unless coaxed, as this dish has all the visual appeal of, well, green leafy materials cooked down to a thick liquid, with small pieces of tentacle incorporated into the mix. Though you won’t find it at the luau shows that cater mostly to visitors, any Hawaiian food restaurant that doesn’t have squid luau has got some nerve. The green, leafy look comes from the same inner wrapping as our lau-lau, and the menacing tentacles are either from squid or octopus. This mixture is then allowed to simmer in a lusciously sweet and creamy coconut milk. If you can get past the looks, it really is a tasty dish, and as far as my book is concerned, there is no big three, only big four.

Cool, refreshing, and the perfect side dish - lomi-lomi salmon from Helena's is the perfect complement to any Hawaiian meal.

As far as side dishes are concerned, the Lomi, or Lomi-Lomi Salmon, will always satisfy. Lomi salmon may not seem like proper Hawaiian food, especially when considering the utter impossibility of salmon runs exploding in the Manoa Stream or Haleiwa River! However, salmon was known to the ancient Hawaiians because it was a popular item brought over by Russian traders and other seafaring voyagers like Captain James Cook. This famous sidekick is a refreshing, cold dish made by adding diced tomato, round sweet onions, and green onions to the salted salmon and lomi’ing them all together, as in a lomi lomi massage. The two biggest things that can possibly spoil this dish are as follows: 1) Being too generous with the tomatoes and too skimpy on the salmon. In this case we call it by the well-known teaser name - lomi-lomi tomato! And 2) not waiting for the tomatoes to acquire a fully ripe to slightly over-ripe sweetness, throwing them in green, instead. Unacceptable, yes, but it often happens, killing the dish from the get-go!

Pound for pound, and without question, the most expensive feature in this flick is a dish that simply oozes moxi and local manly-man-ness. We’re talking ocean-tasting, shellfish-smelling man-ly. We’re talking about $200 per gallon man-ly. The opihi, either raw or cooked oyster-style over the fire, is a limpet shellfish found clinging to rocky shorelines, where waves pound incessantly as a constant threat to all who try to dislodge their powerful sucker feet from the rocks. There is even a famous and catchy song here called Opihi man. It is a fun-loving dedication to the art with lyrics that account for the dangers inherent, the opening verse stating: “Sounds like thunder, gotta head for the high ground; white water comin’, no foolin’ around; opihi man in the sun, opihi man grab your bag and run; opihi man another swell is comin’ your way!”

Why, that sounds right up there with owning Moki the pit bull, with jaws as big as your head, or slaying a 200-pound, tusk-bearing Hawaiian boar from deep in the Koolau’s and carrying it out on your bare, suddenly lice-infested back! Pry a few of these cone-shaped rock huggers from their perilous domain, and you will be the envy of every local boy from Waimanalo to Waialua. Good luck, though, in trying, because your efforts will most likely be futile. They are in such demand you may as well consider them extinct on Oahu, and are mostly harvested from deserted shorelines on the outer islands.

Pipi-kaula is Hawaii’s answer to beef jerky, except our version is usually softer and thicker.

As mentioned earlier, poi is the sticky purple creation that comes from mashed taro. The ancient Hawaiians were a very strong, healthy people, and poi was definitely one big reason for that. It is high in vitamins, mineral, and enzymes and is a potent pro-biotic, as it begins to ferment after a couple of hours and begins creating all kinds of healthy bacteria to aid the digestive process, kinda like yogurt does. Some even prefer sour poi, a name given when allowed to ferment longer. Poi can be described as really bland, and some see the need to make it more palatable by adding sugar. Hard-core poi lovers will laugh at you, but no worries, brah! Go for it!

Poi is the sticky paste of purple wonder that is made from mashed taro root, and was the predominant starch of the ancient Hawaiian diet. A small dish of raw onions w/rock salt is also served at most Hawaiian food restaurants.

Rounding out this production as desserts are the haupia, and kulolo. Haupia is basically a sweetened coconut milk that is chilled and allowed to harden in a sheet pan, then cut into small squares and served cold. It will often be found layered into local cakes or pies like the absolutely divine chocolate haupia pie from Ted’s Bakery on the North Shore – you’ll find directions in the bakery section. Kulolo is also made with coconut milk, but taro is the main ingredient.

Another dish you will find everywhere is po-ke, or po-ki, as some say. Basically, it is a dish of raw fish, cubed and tossed in salt, shoyu, sesame oil, and a host of other ingredients. Although most think it is a truly ethnic dish, po-ke, at least in its current form, actually began in the 70’s, as raw was not the preferred means of fish consumption for the ancient Hawaiians.

Besides the small dish of Hawaiian rock salt and sweet raw onions that some diners dip or sprinkle on any of their dishes for added flavor, that just about wraps up our Hawaiian buffet line. As stated earlier, the items are few, so if you are visiting the islands and time is of the essence, even one meal is good enough to experience almost everything on the menu.

On to the various Hawaiian Food Restaurants

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