Text copyright © 2019 by Alana Kysar. Photographs copyright © 2019
by Alana Kysar.
Photographs , (top, bottom right), a, , (top right), , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , and copyright
© 2019 by Brooklyn Dombroski.
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ten Speed Press, an imprint of
the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
www.crownpublishing.com
www.tenspeed.com
Ten Speed Press and the Ten Speed Press colophon are registered
trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Kysar,
Alana, 1985
Title: Aloha kitchen : recipes from Hawai‘i / by Alana Kysar ;
photography by Alana
Kysar and
Brooklyn Dombroski.
Description: First edition. | California ; New York : Ten Speed
Press, [2019] | Includes
index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018034179
Subjects: LCSH: Hawaiian cooking. | LCGFT: Cookbooks. Classification:
LCC TX724.5.H3 K97 2019 | DDC 641.59969—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018034179
|
Hardcover ISBN |
|
|
Ebook ISBN |
|
Cover design by Moses Aipa.
Illustrations by Moses Aipa. Art on this page, this
page, and this pageby Jordan Higa. Food and prop styling by Alana Kysar.
v5.3.2
prh
CONTENTS
ALOHA
Regions of Influence Anatomy of a Plate Lunch The Basics
APPETIZERS (PŪPŪ)
Shoyu ‘Ahi Poke
Fried Wontons Maki Sushi Mandoo Lumpia
Cone Sushi
SIDES
Mac Salad
Chicken Long Rice Lomi Salmon
Pohole Fern Salad Poi
Pickled Onion Namasu
Takuan
Kim Chee
Portuguese Sausage Patties Cornbread
PORK (PUA‘A)
Pork Laulau Kālua Pig
Char Siu Pork Spam Fried Rice
Soy-Glazed Spam Musubi Pork Vinha d’Alhos
Pork and Peas
Portuguese Bean Soup
CHICKEN (MOA)
Mochiko Chicken Shoyu Chicken Chicken Jook Chicken Adobo
Local-Style BBQ Chicken Chicken Katsu
BEEF (PIPI)
Loco Moco Oxtail Soup
Teriyaki Beef Sticks
Maui-Style Kalbi Short Ribs Meat Jun
Beef Curry Beef Stew Beef Chili
FROM THE SEA (MEA‘AI KAI)
Chinese-Style Steamed Fish Squid Lū‘au
Fried Reef Fish
Local-Style Fish
Ginger Misoyaki Butterfish
NOODLES (NULU)
Saimin
Dr y Mein Chow Fun Somen Salad Chicken Hekka Pansit
SWEETS (MEA ‘ONO)
Liliko‘i Chiffon Pie
Double-Chocolate Haupia Pie Macadamia Nut Cream Pie Butter Mochi
Haupia
Sweet Potato Haupia Bars Shave Ice
Ice Cake Kūlolo Bars
Pie Crust Manju Cascaron
Malasadas Gau
Guava Cake
Sweet Bread Rolls
SNACKS (‘AI MĀMĀ)
Pickled Mango
Manapua
Pipi Kaula
Baked Taro and Sweet Potato Chips Li Hing Gummy Bears
Boiled Peanuts
Hurricane Popcorn Prune Mui
DRINKS (PAU HANA)
POG
Plantation Iced Tea Fruit Punch
Mai Tai
SAUCES
Dynamite Sauce
Creamy Asian Dressing Papaya Seed Dressing Lilikoʻi Vinaigrette Guava Dressing Chili Pepper Water
Mahalo
Index
To my mom, my dad, Moses, and Vienna Sausage—you guys
are my
everything.
And to anyone who loves Hawai‘i—this book is for you.
ALOHA
Aloha [əlo.hə]: hello! E komo mai (welcome
to) Aloha Kitchen.
This Hawaiian word aloha means so much. It means love and
affection, kindness and compassion, mercy and sympathy, pity and grace, and is
also used as a greeting or farewell. It’s a feeling, a state of mind, an
attitude, and a way of life. It’s even Hawai‘i’s official nickname—the Aloha
State! The aloha spirit, as defined by a state statute, “is the coordination of
mind and heart within each person. It brings each person to the self. Each
person must think and emote good feelings to others.” Aloha must be extended
with no obligation in return, and to live aloha, you must “hear what is not
said, see what cannot be seen, and know the unknowable.” This guiding principle
of friendliness and acceptance of ideas and cultures extends to all aspects of
life in the islands, from friendships to family and even to the kitchen. This
way of life—placing the aloha spirit at the core of relationships and
actions—is what truly makes Hawai‘i a special place. This spirit is the core of
these recipes and this book.
When I set out to write this book, I wanted to capture the spirit
of aloha through practice. So I opened up our kitchen and home to friends (new
and old), family, and really anyone who wanted to come. We hosted no-frills,
paper-napkin dinners almost weekly. Our friends and family tried most of the
foods in this book during various stages of development. Sometimes the recipes
didn’t exactly work out; other times they were much better. But no matter the
case, we got
together and made a great night out of it. There is a ver y long
island between my kitchen and the dining room, and I am thankful to each and
every friend who sat on the kitchen stools, chatting, while I toiled away at
the recipes. Many parties, throughout the yearlong process of writing this
book, were graced with aloha kitchen treats. At the end of the process, Aloha
Kitchen felt like the only title worthy of this book and our shared experiences
represent the spirit of Hawai‘i and why this tiny archipelago has captivated
the world.
When you close your eyes and think about Hawai‘i, what comes to
mind? Do you see the brilliant sapphire and turquoise ocean glistening in the
sun? Maybe you think about the feeling of the warm, soft sand between your
toes? Do you hear gently rustling palms? Or is your perfect moment when you
feel the cool, breezy trade winds collide with the warm, light blanket of
humidity that hugs the Hawaiian Islands chain? Even if you’ve never been to
Hawai‘i, you have an idea of how these iconic islands—Hawai‘i (the Big Island),
Maui, Moloka‘i, Lāna‘i, Kahoʻolawe O‘ahu, Kaua‘i, and Ni‘ihau— look, smell, and feel.
For me, it’s the way the islands taste. The first thing that comes
to mind is my mother’s mochiko chicken, triangle musubi (onigiri), and potato
mac salad. A close second might be a Spam musubi, but let’s talk about that
later. My Hawai‘i is the smoky and sweet smell of a pig roasting in an imu, a
traditional outdoor underground oven. That distinctive aroma is built upon layers
of kiawe wood, sopping wet banana stumps, hot lava rocks, and, of course, all
the delicious meats cooking oh-so-slowly. I haven’t lived on the islands in
recent years, but I can still recall who makes the best pork and peas or chow
fun, and I know where I was when I tried my first malasada. That’s my Hawai‘i,
the Hawai‘i I remember best.
I enjoyed many of these beloved foods as a sun-kissed,
salty-skinned, and barefoot child growing up in Hawai‘i. I can trace my
earliest years through the many constellations of freckles that paint their way
across my face. I was an eighties baby who grew up on the island of Maui, part
of one of the most isolated island chains on Earth. I spent my days running
around the Kamaole Beach Park in my fluorescent, ruffled two-piece, tiptoeing
my way into the bluer-than-blue ocean, breaking past that foamy white shore
break with my boogie board. I dedicated hours hunting for crabs in the sugar y
white sand, and countless more collecting white beach naupaka (half-flower)
berries as ammunition for my beach-berry wars. Pretty sure the latter was my
equivalent of snowball fights; those little berries stung just as much as their
colder-climate cousins.
When I was seven years old, I chased a soccer ball up and down a
field and rollerbladed around my parents’ garage, dreaming of becoming the next
Kristi Yamaguchi. I also had weekly hula lessons where I learned oli (Hawaiian
chants) and the dances that helped tell their stories from my kumu hula
(teacher). I was ten years old when I learned to play the ‘ukulele behind my
back, which felt like the absolute coolest thing in the world at the time and
still kinda does. When I was thirteen years old, I lost track of how many
lei-makinginduced finger pricks I’d collected, because those lei for my hula
hālau (group’s) weekly performances didn’t make themselves.
All these Hawaiian traditions (hula, ‘ukulele, lei making)
probably have you saying, “Oh, wow! You’re Hawaiian!” Well, no—it’s a bit more
complicated than that. My mother is sansei, or third-generation Japanese
American. She was born and raised in Hilo, Hawai‘i. And my father is
northwestern European, born and raised in Los Angeles, California. That makes
me hapa haole, which loosely translates to half white and has come to mean a
person of mixed ethnic heritage. While I’m from Hawai‘i, I don’t have any
Hawaiian ancestors and am therefore not considered Hawaiian. I understand
that’s a bit confusing, since my dad, for instance, is a Californian because he
was born and raised in California. However, in Hawai‘i, people identify
ethnically rather than geographically. Only people who are ethnically Hawaiian
are considered Hawaiian. We’ll get into the ethnic breakdown of Hawai‘i and the
origins of various groups later, but for now, I hope that you’re still with me.
Because of this geographic identity, the idea that I’m writing a
cookbook encompassing the histor y and cultures of my favorite place in the
world is honestly something that terrifies me. It’s hard enough to represent
yourself, never mind your entire state, and for this reason, I did not embark
on this journey lightly. I’m a home cook. I grew up in Kula on the island of
Maui with parents who both love to cook. French, Pacific Rim fusion, and local
Hawai‘i flavors were abundant. With their influence, I learned to love a
diverse range of cuisines and, at a young age, spent time helping them prepare
dishes. I started with salads (which my father playfully scored for
presentation, creativity, and flavor) but quickly graduated to building pommes
Anna and roasting chicken. I remember how my mom kept all of our family recipes
in a giant folder, and I loved pulling all the pages out and doodling on them,
usually in pen.
I was a typical teenager who was desperate to go to college across
the all-expansive Pacific Ocean, so my love and appreciation for all things
Hawai‘i didn’t really come until after I had moved away and no longer had
access to my mother’s amazing mochiko chicken, teriyaki beef sticks, and beef
stew. I remember moving out of the dorms for my sophomore year at the
University of San Diego and being shocked that many of my friends didn’t cook.
Most of my friends in college were also from Hawai‘i—funnily enough, all of us
who couldn’t wait to leave home behind ended up hanging out with one another on
the mainland. I made a quick call home for help and my mom sent me recipes from
her special folder so I could cook up my favorite dishes.
After school, I returned to my island home for a couple of years
before meeting and falling in love with my boyfriend, Moses, a Kailua boy
living in San Francisco. It was a Hawai‘i boy who took me away from the islands
again. When I moved to the Bay Area with Moses, I worked at Williams Sonoma,
coordinating all the photography for the company’s website. I spent my nights
and weekends baking my favorite treats, packaging them up, and gifting them to
my coworkers. I loved surprising them and genuinely reveled in bringing delight
to others through food. In the spring of 2014, the director of sourcing and product
development pulled me into his office and demanded that I tell him what I
wanted to do with my “gift.” The thing was, I had already begun to consider
diving deeper into food on my own terms. A year before, Moses had gifted me a
gorgeous set of classic cookbooks and the domain name of FixFeastFlair.com. The
site had sat idle until that conversation, and that night I went home and
officially started my food blog, Fix Feast Flair, where I’m able to share a
part of myself and my love for the culinary world with others.
As I became more comfortable with blogging, I began to share
recipes from my childhood, thinking that these would be posts that were more
for me than my readers. What surprised me was that people really gravitated to
those local Hawai‘i recipes; perhaps my own love for this food was coming
through in my writing and recipes. Around the same time, I started to see more
and more recipes pop up on blogs for “Hawaiian” dishes. Recipes such as
“Hawaiian Pizza,” “Hawaiian Fried Rice,” and “Hawaiian Sliders.” And that was
about the time when I started to think long and hard about writing a book about
local Hawai‘i food, because here’s the thing: just because (and maybe
especially because) a dish
has pineapple doesn’t mean it’s Hawaiian.
I understand why people commonly view the duo of pineapple and ham
as being from the islands. In the 1950s and 1960s, the advertising campaign of
the Hawai‘i Visitors Bureau, Hawai‘i hotels, and pineapple companies, like Dole
and Del Monte, was to brand anything associated with pineapple as “Hawaiian.”
And the campaign was clearly successful because its effects are still felt
today. However, the idea that most people think of ham and pineapple when they
think of the food in Hawai‘i crushes my heart a little. Don’t get me wrong; the
sweet and savor y dynamic duo of ham and pineapple is great, but it’s not
Hawaiian. The food I’m exploring in this book is much closer to what I think of
as Hawaiian, reflecting how I, my friends, and my family eat when we are at home.
What kind of food is this? It’s the superfine, lighter-than-air,
rainbowcolored shave ice piled high with mochi balls and with ice cream on the
bottom—always ice cream on the bottom—that I ate every Sunday after weekly hula
performances. It’s the way the house smelled when my mom made Portuguese bean
soup and cornbread on a cold day. It’s the mouth-puckering, ice-cold pickled
mango from Pukalani Superette, the kind that makes your mouth twist up and
salivate just thinking about it. It’s my uncle’s poke, a raw fish salad of
sorts, ser ved with hot white rice and ice-cold beers. It’s these memories, the
memories attached to taste and smell, to local food, that take me home. The
local food of Hawai‘i, which for the sake of place I will refer to as local Hawai‘i
food, is a large piece of the heart and soul of the islands.
So what is local Hawai‘i food? Simply put, it’s a creole cuisine
built on the many influences of Hawai‘i’s early immigrants. It’s this
beautiful, delicious amalgamation of Hawai‘i’s migration histor y that you can
see, smell, and, of course, taste. It’s the food that locals—you know, the
folks who live in Hawai‘i—make at home, grab to go in the form of a plate
lunch, eat at local fairs, and bring with them to potluck parties and picnics. It’s
the food that we ser ve at a baby’s first birthday or a wedding. Basically,
it’s the food that locals have grown up eating.
You might be surprised to find that cozy dishes such as chili,
stew, soups, and braised meats are all part of the local Hawai‘i food culture.
Maybe you’ve picked up a local Hawai‘i cookbook in the past, scanned the table
of contents, and thought to yourself, “When do you make this dish? Is it a
snack, a main course, or, gosh, is it dessert?” Or maybe you’re shocked by the
ethnically diverse portfolio of foods and have wondered, “How did all this food
get here!?”
To understand how all-encompassing Hawai‘i’s food culture is, you
first have to trace your way through Hawai‘i’s histor y. Hawai‘i’s unique food
culture has been greatly influenced by three major diasporas that all ended in
Hawai‘i. With each wave of settlers, new plants, animals, ingredients, and
dishes were introduced and folded into the local food culture. Local Hawai‘i
food is a direct result of Hawai‘i’s past and continues to be a living,
breathing expression of what Hawai’i is today. In some ways, to understand
local Hawai‘i food is to understand Hawai‘i itself.
LOCAL HAWAI‘I FOOD
It is worth noting that while
the plantation laborers brought their own unique flavors, ingredients, and
dishes to Hawai‘i, they were initially just that, their own. Chinese laborers
preferred Chinese foods and ingredients; the same was true for the Japanese,
the Portuguese, the Koreans, and the Filipinos, each group self-identifying.
This segregation of cultures was in part due to the hierarchical caste system
that plantation owners worked hard to enforce. They prevented the workers from
organizing, dividing the camps based on ethnicity. Eventually, out of
necessity, a common language emerged.
Known as Hawaiian Pidgin
English, or simply pidgin, this creole language, a hybrid of Hawaiian, English,
Chinese, Japanese, and Portuguese, served as a means of communication among all
of the groups. While the language allowed for communication on the plantations,
it also helped to promote a transfer of knowledge, traditions, and, yes, food
among various groups. Some might even say that it was the catalyst for today’s
local Hawai‘i food culture. With the emergence of pidgin, previously separate
groups, divided by language, cultures, beliefs, and even camps, were able to
come together through the common denominator of a shared language. The groups
of laborers found commonalities once they were able to communicate.
Like pidgin, local Hawai‘i food
is a hybrid of the many ethnic groups on the plantations. It is not uncommon to
find Japanese food served at the same restaurant or party as Filipino and
Chinese food. You can get a plate of chili at the same spot that serves Spam
musubi and saimin. Just like pidgin, you can’t assign just one ethnic group to
local Hawai‘i food; it’s the combination that makes it what it is.
FAMILY HISTORY AND RECIPES
While it may seem like this history is
just that—history—it’s much more than that to most families
in Hawai‘i,
including my own.
Both sets of great-grandparents on my mother’s side left Japan for
the Big Island of Hawai‘i in search of a better life. Those great-grandparents
were from Yamaguchi, Kumamoto, and Hiroshima. Both of my great-grandfathers
worked on the sugar plantations, and over the years, my mother has told me many
of our family stories about how hard those days were. After fulfilling his
labor contract and working his way up to a
super visor role on the plantation, my great-grandfather on my
grandma’s side went on to open a saimin and pastry shop with my
great-grandmother, which later became Iwata Baker y. They were famous for their
fresh coconut pie. My greatgrandfather on my grandpa’s side left the fields and
set up a fish and vegetable deliver y business.
Prior to World War II, my grandfather worked as a carpenter.
During the war, he ser ved in the 442nd Infantr y Regiment. When he got back to
Hawai‘i, he returned to carpentry until he started working as a field super
visor for Hawai‘i’s first commercial papaya farm, Puna Plantation, later
renamed Puna Fruit Packers. He worked his way up to vice president of the
company, all the while encouraging the workers to become growers. This lead to
the formation of Mr. Papaya Co-op, where my grandpa ser ved as general manager
and where he got his nickname, Mr. Papaya. His Mr. Papaya Co-op helped open up
the markets to Hawai‘i-grown Solo papayas in the mainland United States and
Japan. My grandmother worked as a postal clerk at the Pahoa post office. Their
stories and struggles could have only happened in Hawai’i; they made my story
possible, and I am forever grateful.
To that end, the recipes you’ll find in this book stem from family
recipes. I’ve adapted them to my tastes and tinkered with them so that they’re
as accessible as possible and can be made anywhere in the world. I’ve offered
substitutions or nixed difficult-to-source items whenever possible. However, I
feel like I need to make a disclaimer here: Family recipes differ from one to
the next, just as each family in Hawai‘i is different from the one next door.
Ever y family has its own recipe for each of
these dishes. The way my mom’s beef stew tastes is invariably
different from my friend Kammy’s dad’s beef stew. The same can be said for all
the recipes in this book: they are from my experience of Hawai’i and all it
offers, and they could have only come from a life spent there.
REGIONS OF INFLUENCE
I’m not a historian, but in the
case of Hawai‘i, context and history are paramount in understanding the local
food culture of today. So let’s do a quick (I promise!) dive back into Hawai‘i’s past. While there are other
ethnic groups that immigrated to Hawai‘i and have contributed to the
food culture today, for the purposes of this book, and speaking to the recipes
I know best, I will be focusing on the groups listed here. Use the
corresponding symbols from each group to identify the origins of the recipes
throughout the book.
HAWAIIANS AD
300 TO 500
It is generally accepted that Polynesian wayfinders voyaged to the
Hawaiian Islands in their double-hulled canoes sometime between AD 300 and 500.
Can you imagine what they felt when they saw the beautiful, previously
uninhabited island chain we know as Hawai‘i? The Polynesian settlers arrived in
waves, first coming from the Marquesas Islands and later from Tahiti. And while
they found the islands to be abundant in fresh water, fish and shellfish, limu,
and birds, there were few edible plants, apart from some ferns and fruits. This
is why it’s a good thing they brought more than twenty-four plant species,
commonly referred to today as canoe plants, as well as chickens, dogs, and
pigs. The canoe plants included niu (coconut), kalo (taro), ʻulu (breadfruit), ko (sugarcane), ʻohiʻa ʻai (Hawaiian mountain apple),
pia (arrowroot), ‘olena (turmeric), ʻawapuhi (ginger), ʻuala (sweet potato), kukui (candlenut), and maiʻa (banana).
The diet of the early Hawaiians centered around taro, a thick and
fleshy corm or underground stem, similar to a bulb or tuber. Hawaiians
transformed it into poi (this page) by baking it until it was tender and then
pounding it with a bit of water to create a thick and transportable substance
called pa‘i‘ai. From there, more water was added to create poi. It was a staple
food of Hawai‘i’s earliest settlers and is still a mainstay in today’s local
diet. In addition to poi, the early Hawaiian diet was abundant in seafood and
land birds, while also incorporating the many canoe plants brought over to the
islands,
like sweet potatoes. All of these foods were seasoned with sea
salt and served with inamona, a condiment made of roasted and mashed kukui nut
meat and sea salt. Limu, a fresh, crunchy, dark, branch-like seaweed, also
called ogo, was added to many dishes too.
Pigs were typically reser ved for special occasions, to be cooked
and offered as religious sacrifice or ser ved at celebrations. These
festivities were called pā‘ina or ‘aha‘aina, and today we mostly call them lū‘au,
named after the lū‘au stew, or squid lū‘au (this page), that was ser ved at most of
these gatherings. The pigs were cooked in an imu, or earthen oven, along with
the taro root, sweet potatoes, and more. This method of cooking the pig, called
kālua, steamed and roasted the meat at the same time. It also allowed Hawaiians
to cook large quantities of food at once, while keeping it all warm for
multiple days. This method of cooking is still used today, and kālua pig (this page) is ser ved at many lū‘au for baby’s first birthdays,
graduations, and even weddings.
In the fifteenth century, Chief Māʻilikūkahi created a system of dividing up parcels
of land, from sky to sea, called ahupua‘a, to promote productivity. The
boundaries of ahupua‘a were sometimes marked by ahu, or heaps of altar stones,
and/or a puaʻa, or wooden pig head, though
many had natural markers, like streams or a row of trees. The plots varied in
size, with some as small as one hundred acres and some as large as one hundred
thousand acres. By sectioning off the land into smaller sections, the people
had access to enough food and materials to live comfortably, but not more than
they could manage. And what they could not find in their ahupua‘a, they were
able to get from trading.
WESTERNERS
In 1778, British explorer Captain James Cook and his crew landed
at Waimea Bay on Kaua‘i. They were the first Europeans to make contact with the
Hawaiian Islands. Ram goat, ewe, boar, English sow, melons, pumpkins, and
onions were all introduced to the islands at this time. It’s also during this
time that the name “Sandwich Isles,” after the Earl of Sandwich, was given to
the island chain by Cook. In 1793, British Captain George Vancouver introduced
cattle to the island, gifting California longhorns to King Kamehameha I.
Because the cattle faced no natural predators, they multiplied rapidly until
the king brought in American John Parker to wrangle and domesticate them. It’s
at this time that beef becomes a part of the Hawaiian cuisine. The Kamehameha
dynasty reigned over Hawai‘i from 1795 to 1874, with King Kamehameha I uniting
the islands in 1810.
In 1813, Don Francisco de Paula Marيn, a Spanish botanist and advisor to King
Kamehameha I, cultivated the first pineapple on the island of O‘ahu. He
cultivated many other crops, including citrus, white potatoes, tomatoes,
various types of cabbage, and legumes. Soon after the first European contact,
American immigration began, and by 1820, the first Protestant missionaries from
the United States arrived in Hawai‘i. These immigrants led the efforts to
cultivate sugar in the islands, and the first sugar plantation, the Old Sugar
Mill, was established by Ladd & Company on Kauai in 1835.
Crews of sailors also made their way to the islands at this time, seeking
fortune and glor y by way of the whaling industr y. The whaling sailors created
a demand for fresh fruit, cattle, white potatoes (instead of the sweet potatoes
the Hawaiians ate), and sugar. The native Hawaiians grew and supplied these
items, while the Europeans and Americans, herein referred to as Westerners,
acted as merchants, managing the sale of goods and reaping the majority of the
profits. The whaling industry lasted for about forty years, until it came to an
abrupt end due to drastic overhunting. In terms of culinar y contributions, the
whalers introduced salted salmon to the Hawaiians, which was then turned into
lomi salmon (this page).
Soon after the first sugar plantation opened in 1835, sugar and
pineapple production exploded. As the plantations started exporting pineapple
and producing sugar on a large scale, the American plantation owners found that
the labor-intensive farming required a substantially larger workforce. The
problem was Westerners had not only introduced new foods to Hawai’i but also
new diseases that devastated the local Hawaiians. By the 1840s, the Hawaiian
population was less than a sixth of its precontact size, decreasing from
683,000 to fewer than 100,000 by 1845. Many Hawaiians also didn’t see the
appeal of plantation life, knowing they could instead live off the land by
fishing and farming their own crops. These two factors coupled to lead to a new
wave of immigration.
CHINESE
In 1850, the first group of Chinese workers came to the islands
from Canton (now known as Guangzhou) in Guangdong Province to work as laborers
on sugar plantations. Between 1852 and 1887, around 50,000 Chinese traveled to
Hawai‘i to work in the fields. Around 38 percent of those workers returned to
China when their five-year contracts ended, while the rest chose to stay in the
islands. New issues arose when Chinese workers immigrated to solve the labor
shortage, as they did not live off the land like the native Hawaiians and
needed not only food but shelter. They also hungered for the familiar foods and
flavors of China, which created a demand for white rice and new herbs and
spices.
With the declining Hawaiian population, taro patches were left
vacant, and the Chinese turned many of these patches into rice paddies. By the
1860s, rice was on its way to becoming one of the biggest crops in Hawai‘i, and
by 1888, more than thirteen million pounds of rice were exported to California,
making the crop second only to sugar.
The newly established Chinese began to import new varieties of
fish, herbs, and spices from their homeland. They introduced many Cantonese
dishes to the islands. Stir-fried dishes like chow fun (this page) and fried rice (this
page) with Chinese-style meats
like char siu pork (this page) are found all over the islands. Dim sum like
fried wontons (this page) and manapua (this page) are common pūpū and snacks.
And li hing mui, or crack-seed-infused, treats, like
li hing pickled mango (this page) and li hing gummy bears (this page), have all made their way
into the local food culture of today’s Hawai‘i. Many Chinese cultural elements,
like Chinese New Year, which includes lion dancing, the gifting of red money
envelopes (lai see),
and snacking on festive treats like gau (this page), remain strong today.
JAPANESE
In 1868, the first group of Japanese laborers, known as gannenmono
or “first year folks,” as that was the first year (gannen) of the Meiji period
in Japan, arrived in the islands. However, it wasn’t until 1885, after the
Japanese government legalized immigration to Hawai‘i in the form of “contract
labor” as part of a larger deal to access rice at a low and fair price, that
the first large group of Japanese contract laborers arrived in Hawai‘i,
ushering in a giant wave of Japanese workers. By 1924, around 200,000 Japanese
laborers, mainly from Yamaguchi, Hiroshima, Fukuoka City, and Kumamoto, had
arrived to work in the pineapple and sugar fields, with around 55 percent
returning to Japan when their contracts ended.
Like the Chinese that came before them, the Japanese hungered for
the foods and traditions of their homeland. After the initial wave, they
brought seeds to plant familiar produce, and by 1900, the Japanese communities
were growing kabocha squash, daikon, lettuces, green onions, string beans,
Japanese eggplant, turnips, gobo (burdock root), and shiso. It is said that you
could see the kabocha squash growing around and up onto the shacks of the
Japanese laborers. In 1908, the first sake brewer y outside of Japan opened in
Honolulu.
Many dishes were introduced to Hawai‘i by the Japanese. The iconic
shave ice (this page) is said to have originated from the Japanese
kakigōri. Japanese bentos, sashimi, tofu, and soy sauce (shoyu) are all a part
of today’s local Hawai‘i food culture. Steaming, broiling, simmering, and fr
ying methods that were implemented by the early immigrants as a means of
cooking without an oven (a luxur y early laborers did not have) remain popular
today in the form of teriyaki beef sticks (this page) and fried reef fish (this page). The love of pickled veggies (see takuan, this page, and namasu, this
page) also continues. And mochi is
as beloved as ever (see butter mochi, this page). Japanese Obon festivals
that celebrate the spirits of one’s ancestors are popular with locals, as are the
foods and traditions of special occasions like New Year, when you will find
kagami mochi, which is a tower of two round mochi with a tangerine on top, and
kadomatsum, made of pine and bamboo pieces, in local grocer y stores.
PORTUGUESE
The first Portuguese immigrants came to Hawai‘i from the Azores
and Madeira. Later groups came over from Portugal and Cape Verde. Over the
course of about thirty years, more than 16,000 Portuguese immigrants arrived in
the islands to work the plantations. While most of the other immigrant groups
arrived as single men or women, the Portuguese typically came over as families,
with the intention of staying in Hawai‘i. The Portuguese were offered better
working
conditions, contracts, and oftentimes worked as luna, or super
visors, instead of laborers. When their work contracts ended, some Portuguese
opened up bakeries and restaurants, while many became paniolo (cowboys),
working on the cattle ranches.
In terms of food, the Portuguese immigrants brought with them
their love for pork, tomatoes, and chili peppers, as well as oven-baked breads
like pمo doce, aka Portuguese sweet
bread (this page). You can see their influence on the local Hawai‘i
food culture with dishes like Portuguese bean soup (this page), cornbread (this
page), Portuguese sausage (this page), and malasadas (this
page). In addition to their
influence on the food culture, the Portuguese introduced both the ‘ukulele and
the style of strumming that would be instrumental in the creation of the steel
guitar, a gift that is still heard today.
KOREANS
The first Korean laborers came over in 1903 from the port city of
Incheon to work on the plantations. More than 7,500 Koreans arrived between the
years 1903 and 1910, with only 16 percent of the laborers returning to Korea.
The 1900 Hawaiian Organic Act banned contract labor, so unlike the Chinese and
Japanese who came before them, the Koreans were not locked into long-term
contracts. This impacted their lives greatly, as they did not spend much time
on the plantations and instead moved on to other types of work much more
quickly than the groups that preceded them.
Kim chee (this page) and barbecued marinated meats, like kalbi (this page), are two of the largest Korean contributions to local Hawai‘i
food. Pickled vegetables like namul exist today, as well as eggbattered meat
jun (this page) and spicy condiments like gochujang.
FILIPINOS
In 1906, the first Filipino plantation laborers arrived; most were
male and unmarried. At the peak of the sugar production, more than half of the
workforce was composed of Filipino laborers. By 1930, more than 112,000
Filipinos had come, and about 65 percent stayed on the islands. Most of the
early waves of Filipino laborers came from the Ilocos region and the Visayas.
As one of the later groups of plantation laborers to make their way to Hawai‘i,
they found it much easier to import the ingredients they longed for. They
brought with them peas and beans, vinegar, and garlic-based dishes, and
preferred to boil, stew, broil, and fry foods (like many of the other laborers
who came before them). Filipino dishes like pork adobo (this page) and cascaron (this
page) are cornerstones of Hawai‘i’s
local food culture today.
Although there aren’t any recipes in this book tied to Okinawa or
Puerto Rico, both groups have played a role in the development of local Hawai‘i
food. The first Okinawan and Puerto Rican plantation workers arrived in Hawai‘i
in 1900. Today, there are more than 50,000 ethnic Okinawans and 35,000 ethnic
Puerto Ricans in Hawai‘i.
JOURNEY TO STATEHOOD
Now that you’ve explored the various
ethnic groups and what they brought to Hawai‘i and its food, it’s important also to get a
sense of Hawai‘i’s political past and how it went from a kingdom ruled by a
sovereign monarchy to the fiftieth state of the United States of America.
1810King Kamehameha I, also known as Kamehameha the
Great, unites the Hawaiian Islands.
Liholiho, son of Kamehameha I, abolishes the kapu (taboo) system.
Part of this system is the tradition of men and women eating separately during
feasts.
The Hawaiian Bill of Rights, also known as the 1839 Constitution
of Hawai‘i, is signed into law. King Kamehameha III, born Kauikeaouli, and his
chiefs attempted to keep the lands in the hands of the Hawaiian people by
providing them with the groundwork for a free enterprise system.
The 1840 Constitution of the Kingdom of Hawai‘i is signed into
law. With this constitution, Kamehameha III established a constitutional
monarchy that stated that the land belonged to the people and was to be managed
by the king. According to the constitution, the lands were to be divided into
thirds, one-third to the Hawaiian crown, one-third to the chiefs, and one-third
to the Hawaiian people. However, this law required land claims to be filed
within two years. Less than 1 percent of the Hawaiian people filed claims, as
land ownership seemed odd to Hawaiians, who didn’t believe that nature could be
owned. The Great Māhele “to divide or portion” ultimately had the opposite
effect of its intent, as most of the land was eventually sold to the Big Five
corporations, which controlled the sugar industr y and many related businesses
in Hawaiʻi, leaving little in the hands
of Hawai‘i and its people.
King Kamehameha VI, born Lunalilo, also known as “the People’s
King,” dies, leaving no heirs and thus ending the reign for the Kamehameha
dynasty. King David Kalākaua is elected as his successor.
‘Iolani Palace, the home of Hawaiian monarchs, is completed. It’s
outfitted with the first electric lights in Hawai‘i, indoor plumbing, and a
telephone. This is quite a feat, as not even the White House or Buckingham
Palace was decked out in these amenities at that time.
The 1887 Constitution of the Kingdom of Hawai‘i, also known as the
Bayonet Constitution, is signed. King Kalākaua is forcibly coerced into signing
the law that handed power over
to the legislature
and the cabinet, stripping it away from the monarchy.
King Kalākaua dies. Hawai‘i’s first queen and last monarch, Queen
Lili‘uokalani, sister of King Kalākaua, takes the throne.
Queen Lili‘uokalani is placed under house arrest and the overthrow
of the Kingdom of Hawai‘i starts.
Through a joint resolution, the Newlands Resolution, the United
States annexes Hawai‘i.
Hawai‘i becomes the Territor y of Hawai‘i with the Hawaiian
Organic Act.
Queen Lili‘uokalani, the Kingdom of Hawai‘i’s last sovereign,
dies.
On December 7, 1941, the Japanese attack Pearl Harbor, on O’ahu,
during World War II.
On August 21, 1959, by popular vote, Hawai‘i becomes the fiftieth
state of the United States of America. Hawaiian is made Hawai‘i’s official language
by the Hawai‘i State Constitutional Convention. Hawai‘i becomes the only state
in the United States to have a non-English official language.
Hawai‘i-born senator Barack Obama is inaugurated as the
forty-fourth president of the United States.
ANATOMY OF A PLATE LUNCH
People like to call Hawai‘i the ultimate cultural
melting pot, while others argue it’s more like a salad bowl. I,
however, believe that it’s like a really good mixed plate.
If you’re still looking to understand what local Hawai‘i food is
like, look no further than the plate lunch. From doctors to surfers to your
aunty down the street, it’s fair to say that most locals eat plate lunches. You
can find them almost anywhere, from lunch wagons to
delis (Hawai‘i-style delis, that is, which do not ser ve smoked
fish and bagels and might not even serve sandwiches), drive-ins, diners, and
hole-in-the-wall restaurants. You can get them at local restaurant chains, like
Zippy’s. Even former president Barack Obama has been known to frequent spots
such as Rainbow Drive-In and Zippy’s to get his plate lunch fix.
SO WHAT IS A PLATE LUNCH AND HOW DID IT COME TO BE?
A plate lunch typically consists of three, sometimes four, items:
protein, carbohydrate, mayo-y carbohydrate, and possibly a vegetable (though
it’s likely pickled). It’s usually served on a sectioned plate or container,
hence plate lunch. What makes it so special is that it’s a true representation
of Hawai‘i’s local food culture and the ethnically diverse population. You can
actually see all the different groups represented on the menu at any plate
lunch spot. From Japanese teriyaki beef to Filipino chicken adobo to Korean
kalbi short ribs, ever yone is represented.
While no one knows definitively when or where the plate lunch was
born, one stor y goes something like this. Plantation workers carried their
lunches in bento boxes or tins, also called kau kau (food) tins. Lunch usually
consisted of leftover white rice with a combination of the following: leftover
meats, canned meats, scrambled eggs, and pickled vegetables. By the 1930s,
lunch wagons set up shop, selling plates that consisted of similar foods, with
the addition of mac salad (this
page) and sometimes potatoes.
PROTEIN
The focal point of the plate lunch is the protein. When you order
a plate lunch, you’re essentially ordering according to which protein you’re in
the mood for. The mixed plate is for when you’re feeling indecisive and want to
pick two, sometimes three, different proteins. The following are some examples
of popular menu items, but this list is by no means exhaustive.
Chicken Katsu (this page)
Kālua Pig (this page) Beef Stew (this page)
Pork Laulau (this page)
Local-Style BBQ Chicken (this page) Shoyu Chicken (this page)
Chicken Adobo (this page) Mochiko Chicken (this page)
Teriyaki Beef Sticks (this page) Maui-Style
Kalbi Short Ribs (this page) Beef Curry (this
page)
Squid Lū‘au (this page) Pork and Peas (this page)
Ginger Misoyaki Butterfish (this page) Loco Moco (this page)
CARBOHYDRATE
A carbohydrate is the cornerstone of every plate lunch: one or
(more commonly) two scoops of steamed white rice. And yes, the rice is usually
scooped into half spherical mounds with a big ice cream scooper. If you’re
feeling health conscious, you might ask for brown rice. If you’re feeling only
a little health conscious, you might ask for
hapa rice, which is half brown rice, half white rice. And while
it’s almost sacrilegious, I have heard a few people order and ask for no rice,
but that usually leads to some raised eyebrows.
MAYO-Y CARBOHYDRATE
This is not the technical name, but like it or not, mac (short for
macaroni) salad or potato mac salad (this page) is basically just that: a
mayo-y carbohydrate. You usually just get one scoop of this. If the protein is
the quarterback of the plate, the mayo-y carbohydrate is a member of the
offensive line. A good mac salad is more than just macaroni and mayonnaise.
It’s got tang, a bit of bite (thank you, onion), and a touch of sweetness. I
think you can tell a lot about a place by its mac salad.
VEGETABLE
One of three scenarios plays out here. Usually, there’s no
vegetable. Sometimes, there’s a pickled vegetable like kim chee (this page), takuan (this page), or namasu (this page). Less likely is the third
scenario, which is a tossed salad of sorts, usually dressed with a papaya seed
dressing (this page) or a creamy Asian dressing (this page). Most plate lunches aren’t about the veggies, though I can’t say
no plate lunches have veggies ’cause that’s just not true. There’s a spot in
Diamond Head on O‘ahu called Diamond Head Market & Grill, and its plate
lunches come with a “toss” salad.
THE BASICS
At the end of the day, I want
this book to become yours. I want you to cook from it the way you choose. There’s no right or wrong way to
use this book, but here are some notes and suggestions on how to get the most
out of it. The paper is something that you might not give a second thought to,
but I selected it specifically to allow for notes, for years of wear, for the
stains of history to soak in. I’ve included menu suggestions for each recipe, as
inspiration to build a complete meal or plate lunch. So take out a pen or
pencil and get to cooking!
If you look at a recipe and think, “That’s not nearly enough
salt,” or “Whoa, too much paprika!” jot down those notes. If you absolutely
can’t stand fish sauce, strike it out. If you grew up adding peas to your fried
rice, add those peas! I am not here to make cooking frustrating, difficult, or
even challenging. You can adjust all the recipes to your liking. The point of
this book is to give you a starting point, a base recipe. Choose your own
adventure here and make these recipes your own! Or don’t and leave them the way
they are if you love them! And remember, your cooktop and oven will var y from
mine, so don’t forget that and adjust your times and temps accordingly. I want
you to fall in love with local Hawai‘i food the way I have, and the only way to
do that is to welcome it into your
kitchen. My hope is that ever y dish you make will transport you
to the islands.
A note on orthography and diacritical marks. You may find familiar
dishes and ingredients spelled differently than you are accustomed. No, that’s
not a typo on kim chee. In Hawai‘i’s orthography, you’ll find many words
spelled phonetically; to stay true to Hawai‘i’s local food culture, the
spellings (or misspellings in some cases) must be obser ved. There are two
diacritical marks in the Hawaiian language: The ‘, or ‘okina, is a glottal
stop, like the hyphen between “uh-oh.” And the macron above vowels, like ō, is
a kahakō, and it lengthens and stresses the marked vowel.
BUILDING BLOCKS
I’m not a classically trained chef—I’m a home cook. Still, over
the years, I’ve learned a few tips and tricks that have made life in the
kitchen a lot easier. If you’re reading this book, I’ll assume that you have at
least a baseline level of cooking knowledge, and if you don’t, that’s cool too.
We all have to start somewhere, right? Here are some general guides and a few
things I wish I had learned when I was just starting out.
KNIFE SKILLS 101
I hold my knife by gripping the top of the blade between my thumb
and index finger and wrapping the rest of my fingers around the handle. To me,
it allows for better control and the easiest cutting, but you should hold your
knife however feels most natural.
Minced = chopped into ver y small pieces; think smaller
than a piece of short-grain rice
Chopped = chopped into small pieces; think bigger than a
piece of short-grain rice, smaller than ½-inch squares
Diced = chopped into ½-inch squares
Cubed = chopped into ¾- to 1-inch squares; think
bite-size cubes Sliced = cut into slices
Julienned = thin, matchstick-like cuts, usually 2 to
inches long. To achieve this, you slice the item
into thin sheets, then stack those sheets and cut them into thin sticks.
Shredded = cut into thin strips, usually cabbage or other
leafy greens Finely grated = use a
fine Microplane grater
Grated = use the small holes of a box grater Coarsely
grated = use the big holes of a box
grater
When you are chopping leafy things like herbs, sprinkle a little
salt on them to keep them from
wiggling around.
To keep your cutting board in place, tr y putting a wet paper
towel under the board. Voilà! No more dancing board.
To clean your cutting board, sprinkle Hawaiian salt (‘alaea) all
over it, then rub it with half a lemon. The acid from the lemon will disinfect
and deodorize it, and the salt will rub off all the tiny bits of crud.
PEELING
Different produce calls for different methods. The following are
the methods that I find easiest.
To peel a garlic clove, use a chef’s knife to trim off the hard
root, then place the clove on a flat surface and lay your knife flat on it,
blade edge away from you. Press down with the heel of your palm until the clove
gives a little. The skin should slip right off.
To peel fresh ginger, hold the piece of ginger in your nondominant
hand. Hold a teaspoon in your dominant hand, grasping the handle in an almost
fist-like gesture and with your thumb on the middle of the convex side of the
spoon. With long strokes and gentle pressure, use the tip and bottom edge of
the spoon to scrape away the skin.
To peel potatoes, use a paring knife to gently cut a line into the
skin around the middle of the potato before boiling. After boiling, the skin
should peel right off the potato.
ROOM TEMPERATURE
This is something that often gets overlooked, but if at all
possible, it is best to bring your ingredients to room temperature. This is
mostly for meats and butter, but I also do it for eggs and veggies. It is best
to avoid going from super cold to super hot, or vice versa.
READ AND REREAD
More than once I’ve made it halfway through a recipe, only to
realize I don’t have a crucial ingredient. To prevent yourself from making my
mistakes, read the recipe all the way through, and then read it again before
you start cooking.
MISE IT
Mise en place is a French phrase that roughly translates to “ever
ything in its place,” and while you may be tired of hearing about it, we’re
still talking about it for a reason. Basically, get all your ingredients out
and ready to go before you dive in.
BUILDING YOUR PANTRY
If you’re new to cooking local Hawai‘i food, you’re gonna want to
take the time to build up your larder with the necessary staples. Nowadays, if
you’re living on either coast of the United States, or in a community with a
large Asian population, you can find most of these items in a local grocer y
store. However, if you’re having trouble finding certain items, head to an
Asian grocer or go online! Amazon has made it pretty easy for me to bring
Hawai‘i home to my Los Angeles kitchen.
I have done my best to
eliminate the hard-to-source ingredients whenever possible or to provide
substitutions. However, to stay authentic, there are certain instances when
this is not possible.
ALCOHOLS
Alcohol is typically used in a marinade or braise to tenderize
meats, and ends up cooking off, leaving behind loads of flavor. Store all of
these in a cool, dry, dark place.
Mirin is a sweet Japanese cooking sake with a lower alcohol
content and more sugar than traditional sake. My favorite brand is Takara
Masamune Mirin, produced and bottled by Honolulu Sake Brewing Company Ltd. You
can find it in the alcohol section at Whole Foods, near the sakes. If you can’t
find Takara Masamune Mirin, look for Eden Mirin in the Asian foods section. As
a last resort, you can buy Kikkoman Aji-Mirin; however, decrease the sugar in
the recipe slightly if you do.
Red wine needs no introduction. But when it comes to cooking with
wine, I subscribe to the philosophy that you should always cook with
the wine you want to drink. So, grab a bottle of your favorite
red, add some to your dish, and then pour a glass for yourself while you’re at
it.
Sake should be filtered and clear. Do not use a
nigori, or unfiltered sake.
Whiskey is similar to wine in that I believe you should use the
whiskey you drink. If you don’t like whiskey or don’t happen to have any on
hand, you can substitute brandy or sherry.
BROTHS
Look for a broth in a Tetra Pak (that soft-coated carton near the
cans). My favorite brand is Pacific Foods, but Whole Foods 365 and Trader Joe’s
are both good options. Store them in a cool, dr y, dark place.
CANNED GOODS
This probably goes without saying, but look for
cans that are BPAfree or buy Tetra Pak goods when
you can. Store them in a cool, dr y, dark place.
Maybe it’s a product of my childhood, but I just prefer canned red
kidney beans to dried kidney beans. To each their own, but if you go the canned
route, I usually just get organic Whole Foods 365.
I prefer using fresh or frozen coconut milk. However, not everyone
has access to it. So if you’re using a canned or Tetra Pak coconut milk, look
for one with only one or two ingredients: coconut milk and water. Aroy-D Tetra
Paks are my favorite. And make sure you’re purchasing a culinary coconut milk
not a coconut milk beverage, as the latter is much more water y.
Evaporated milk still has a place in a modern kitchen, though it
might feel like a relic of the past. It’s creamier than regular milk, with
about 60 percent less water content. And unlike condensed milk, it has no added
sugar.
Spam Less Sodium is the only Spam on hand in my kitchen. It’s got
25 percent less sodium than Spam Classic, which, in my opinion, is more than
enough.
CHINESE FIVE-SPICE POWDER
This is a spice blend of five or more spices that’s used primarily
in Chinese cooking. Typically, it’s a combination of star anise, cloves,
cinnamon, Sichuan pepper, and fennel, but it can also include ginger, anise,
nutmeg, turmeric, cardamom, licorice, and mandarin orange peel. Funny enough,
the brand that I use, Dynasty, has seven spices: cinnamon, star anise, fennel,
ginger, cloves, white pepper, and licorice. Like all spices, store it in a
cool, dry place away from direct sunlight. You can find it in the Asian foods
section of your grocery store.
CORNSTARCH
Maybe you’re surprised to see that cornstarch has made the list,
but it is found in many local recipes. Look for a non-GMO cornstarch, like
Clabber Girl or Rapunzel. You can substitute arrowroot if you want.
DRIED NOODLES
If you don’t know what you’re looking for, it’s easy to confuse
one of these noodles for the other, especially because many of them go by more
than one name, depending on whom you’re talking to or where you’re buying them.
They can all be found in the Asian foods section
of your grocer y store or at an Asian market. If you don’t have
access to either, they are all available on Amazon.
Somen are thin, white Japanese noodles.
Bean threads, also known as mung bean noodles, cellophane noodles,
glass noodles, or long rice (which is confusing, as they are not made with
rice), are made from a starch or a mix of starches such as mung bean,
arrowroot, cornstarch, tapioca, and/or sweet potato. They are sold in small
bunches of fine strands and need to be hydrated before use.
Pancit bihon, also known as rice stick noodles, rice noodles,
maifun or bifun, or rice vermicelli, is a ver y fine noodle that comes bundled
similar to bean thread noodles. They, too, need to be hydrated before use.
Pancit canton, also known as wheat stick noodles, is a Cantonese
noodle made with wheat flour and sometimes egg. These noodles do not need to be
hydrated ahead of time.
FISH SAUCE
Whether you call it nam pla (Thai), nuoc mam (Vietnamese), or
patis (Filipino), fish sauce is a common ingredient in many Southeast Asian
dishes. It is funky (in the best way possible), salty, and adds incredible
depth to dishes. It’s literally fermented anchovies, which might sound
intimidating, but a little goes a long way, and there really isn’t a substitute
for it. Can you say umami? You can find it in most grocer y stores, either in
the Asian foods section or near the soy sauce (shoyu). My favorite brand is Red
Boat.
FLOURS
Store your flours in airtight containers in a cool, dr y place
away from direct sunlight. If stored properly, all of these flours should last one
to two years. If it has turned, the flour will smell sour.
All-purpose flour is the standard white flour that you’ll find in
most kitchens. It has 10 to 11 percent protein, which is pretty much in the
middle as far as all flours go. Basically this means about that much gluten
will form when the flour comes into contact with water. Look for unbleached
all-purpose flour; I like King Arthur Unbleached AllPurpose Flour. If you don’t
want to commit to buying bread or cake flour, you can substitute all-purpose
flour. Bread flour and all-purpose flour can be substituted 1 to 1, while cake
flour requires a little more math: 1 cup of cake flour equals 1 cup of
all-purpose flour minus 2 tablespoons that are replaced with cornstarch. You
won’t get quite the same texture when you substitute all-purpose for bread
flour, but it’ll be close enough.
Bread flour has 11 to 13 percent protein, meaning it will produce
more gluten than all-purpose flour and create a chewier end product. Use white
bread flour for recipes in this book. King Arthur Bread Flour is the brand I
use.
Cake flour has a lower protein content than all-purpose, usually
around 9 percent. This basically means less gluten, which means lighter and
more tender end results. I use King Arthur Unbleached Cake Flour.
Mochiko is ver y different from the other three. It roughly
translates to “mochi flour” and is made with sweet, or glutinous, rice. It is
sometimes called sweet rice flour, which can be slightly confusing, as the
flour itself is not sweet, but it is made from sweet rice. Also, it’s
gluten-free. I use Koda Farms brand.
HONEY
Look for a light-colored, mild honey, like clover or orange. If
your honey cr ystallizes, simply place the bottle in a bath of hot water. The
heat should return the honey to its original form.
LI HING MUI AND LI HING POWDER
Li hing mui is a salted dried plum that originated in Guangdong
Province, China, and is ver y popular in Hawai‘i today. Sometimes called crack
seed, it’s sweet, salty, and sour all at the same time. Li hing mui roughly
translates to “traveling plum.” People in Hawai‘i snack on this or grind it up
into a powder and sprinkle it on ever ything from shave ice (this page) to gummy bears (this
page) to fresh fruits. In its
ground form, it’s called li hing powder. Look for red li hing mui or li hing
mui powder; white doesn’t have quite the same flavor. My favorite brand is
Jade. Store it in an airtight container the same way you store your spices.
LIQUID SMOKE
Exactly what it sounds like, a liquid that tastes and smells like
smoke, liquid smoke is the key to capturing the smoky flavor of an imu at home.
A little goes a long way, and if stored properly in a cool, dark place, a small
bottle will last for years. I recommend ordering For J’s Hawai‘i Kiawe Liquid
Smoke on Amazon because it uses kiawe (a type of mesquite), which is a common
type of firewood in Hawaiʻi.
MAYONNAISE
The only mayo option is Best Foods, or Hellmann’s if you’re in the
eastern part of the US. It’s well balanced, tangy, sweet, salty, rich, creamy.
Store it in the refrigerator after opening it.
NUTS AND SEEDS
Store nuts and seeds in a cool, dark, dr y place for up to 3
months or in a freezer bag for up to a year. They have a high oil content and
go rancid quickly. I toast macadamia nuts and sesame seeds before using, unless
they are going into a baked good, in which case the baking process takes care
of the toasting. In all my recipes, I use salted dry-roasted macadamia nuts.
I typically reach for roasted white sesame seeds and, to boost the
flavor, toast them in a pan on the stove top over low heat briefly before
using.
OILS
Store all of your oils in a cool, dark, dr y place far away from
your oven or stove top. While expiration dates are handy, your nose is your
best friend when checking for freshness. You will be able to smell when an oil
is rancid. You should be able to find these oils in your grocery store;
however, Amazon will have all of them if you can’t.
Macadamia oil is more of a finishing oil than a cooking oil,
unless you want a lot of macadamia nut flavor; it is ver y nutty. It will keep
for only a few months after it’s opened, so I’d recommend buying small amounts
at a time.
Neutral oils are mild-flavored oils with high smoke points.
Avocado oil, canola oil, and sunflower oil are all neutral oils, and I use them
interchangeably. Stored properly, avocado oil can keep for up to 8 months,
while canola and sunflower oil should keep for up to a year.
Sesame oils var y greatly from brand to brand. I prefer Kadoya and
pick it up at Marukai Market (one of the biggest Japanese supermarkets in the
United States; www.tokyocentral.com), but it can also be ordered on Amazon. If you are
looking for more
nuttiness,
try a toasted sesame oil. Sesame oil has a shelf life of about 6
months.
OYSTER SAUCE
Thick, dark, salty oyster sauce is used in a lot of Chinese
recipes, such as fried wontons (this
page), stir-fries like fried rice
(this page) and chow fun (this page), and dishes like stuffed
Local-Style Fish (this page). Store it in your refrigerator. I recommend using
Lee Kum Kee premium oyster sauce (the one with the gold foil on the label).
PEPPERS
The only two dried peppers used in this book are black pepper and gochugaru.
Black peppercorns should always be freshly ground with a pepper mill, and
gochugaru comes flaked. Store both of these in a cool, dr y place away from
heat.
Black peppercorns, the most common peppercorn, should be purchased
whole and ground right before using, as opposed to preground, which loses its
flavor quickly.
Gochugaru is a Korean red chili flake. If you don’t have it, you
can substitute Aleppo pepper, which is a Middle Eastern chili flake. And if all
you have on hand is crushed red pepper flakes, you can substitute that, though
I’d recommend running it through a spice grinder to break it down a bit.
RICE
I don’t have a real statistic for this, but if I had to guess, I’d
say at least nine out of ten homes in Hawai‘i have a rice cooker and that rice
cooker lives on the kitchen counter. When you eat as much rice as people from
Hawai‘i do, a rice cooker is a worthy investment. I’d highly suggest investing
in a Zojirushi rice cooker. The first step to
making great rice is to make sure you rinse it until the water
runs clear before you cook it. As for types of rice, I’d say that most people
use either short-grain white rice or a Calrose or Kokuho Rose mediumgrain white
rice. The rice is cooked until it’s moist and almost sticky (but don’t use
sticky rice for everyday cooking), and it’s never mushy. Store your rice in an
airtight container in a cool, dr y place away from direct sunlight.
Hapa rice is a combination of half white rice mixed with half
brown rice. Hinode even makes a premixed Hapa Blend! However, if you can’t find
it, don’t worry; you can make your own by mixing together equal parts of white
and brown rice of the same grain size.
For medium-grain white rice, I recommend Kokuho Rose or Calrose;
my favorite brand of rice is Koda Farms. You can find it at Marukai Market or
order it through their website if you don’t have physical access to a location.
Again, my favorite brand of short-grain white rice is Koda Farms.
SALT
There are only two salts you need in your kitchen Hawaiian salt
(‘alaea) and kosher salt. Anytime you’re not using one, you’re using the other.
Sometimes you need to use both.
Hawaiian salt, also known as ‘alaea, is a coarse sea salt that’s
been harvested from areas with red alae volcanic clay. Source this salt from
Hawai‘i. I buy from Hawaiian Pa‘akai Inc., which you can find on Amazon. While
it’s a little more expensive, the flavor is worth it. However, if you cannot
find it, substitute a coarse sea salt, like pink Himalayan salt.
The only kosher salt I recommend is Diamond Cr ystal. The flake is
different than that of other kosher salts, it dissolves quickly, and it’s less
salty and, therefore, more forgiving if you happen to accidentally oversalt a
dish.
SHIITAKE MUSHROOMS
I always keep a stock of dried shiitake mushrooms on hand. They
add a ton of flavor to any dish. Pick them up in an Asian market, where they
are sold in larger quantities for better prices. Store them in an airtight
container in a cool, dr y spot.
SEAWEED
There are two dried seaweeds that play a large role in Hawai‘i’s
multiethnic cuisine.
Furikake is a Japanese seasoning of dried seaweeds, sesame seeds,
salt, sugar, and sometimes dried fish. I like nori komi furikake; always look
for Mishima brand. Sprinkle it over ever ything from rice to popcorn (this page).
Nori, also called roasted seaweed, is sold in packages of ten
sheets. Typically used for sushi, it can also wrap Mochiko Chicken (this page) or Soy-Glazed Spam Musubi (this page).
Store them in an airtight container in a cool, dr y place. You can
find both in the Asian section of your grocer y store, at Marukai Market, or
online via Pacific East West.
SOY SAUCE
More commonly known as shoyu in Hawai‘i, this sauce is made from
fermented soybeans. It is packed with umami and salt, which add
depth to dishes. I always keep a cooking soy sauce and a finishing
(lighter, less sodium) soy sauce on hand.
Kikkoman is a good, all-purpose soy sauce. It’s in the midrange as
far as saltiness and strength of flavor go (in the wide spectrum of soy
sauces).
Aloha shoyu is what I like to refer to as my finishing soy sauce.
It’s lighter than most and adds just a touch of salt and umami to a dish. I
always keep a bottle out for people to add at their own discretion.
SUGAR
With Hawai‘i’s histor y of sugar production, it’s no surprise that
sugar plays a large role in most dishes. There are two cane sugars I always
keep on hand. Store both in airtight containers, in—yes, you guessed it—a cool,
dr y place away from direct sunlight. I use C&H (California and Hawaiian
Sugar Company) brand.
Brown sugar is available in light and dark varieties—your call
here, but I usually use only dark brown sugar. It has more molasses, so the
flavor is just a little stronger. A fun trick to softening your cr ystallized
brown sugar: Place a piece of bread in the sugar container for 24 hours. The
sugar will soak up all the moisture from the bread.
Granulated sugar, with its neutral flavor and fine cr ystal
texture, is something that is so recognizable that there is no substitute for
it. From savory to sweet dishes, this is a kitchen staple that really works
hard.
VINEGAR
Acidity is a building block in recipes that’s often overlooked.
While vinegar is commonly associated with things such as salad dressings and
pickles, when it’s added to soups, marinades, and braises, it
really shines. It boosts flavors and complexity, lending balance
to dishes. While cane vinegar and rice vinegar aren’t the only two vinegars in
my local Hawai‘i food pantr y, if I had to pick two, I’d pick cane vinegar and
rice vinegar. As with most things, store your vinegars in a cool, dr y, dark
place.
Cane vinegar is not sweet, even though it’s made from sugarcane
syrup. It’s mellower than distilled white vinegar and can be substituted for
champagne vinegar, cider vinegars, and white wine vinegar. I buy Datu Puti
brand from Amazon.
Rice vinegar, made from fermented rice, is ver y light and mild; I
add it to most things. I usually buy a large bottle of Mizkan from Marukai or a
few bottles of Kikkoman from Whole Foods.
WATER
I always use filtered or purified water when cooking. While tap
water is an option, I feel like it sometimes introduces new flavors that aren’t
ideal.
WORCESTERSHIRE SAUCE
I like to call this the “everything sauce,” as it has so many
ingredients, from vinegar to anchovies. It’s a thin, dark-colored sauce that
adds tons of depth to any dish. Store in the refrigerator after opening it.
PRODUCE GUIDE
Many of these items can be found in your local market or Asian
market almost year-round, but some have specific seasons. A few, like pohole
fern, lūʻau, and nīoi, may be harder to
find outside of Hawai‘i, but substitutions have been suggested whenever
possible.
Baby Bok Choyfirm stalks, tender leaves, sweet Banana Leavespliable, aromatic, large
Bean Sprouts (sometimes called mung bean
sprouts)crisp, crunchy, mild
Cabbage, Green or Redsturdy, smooth leaves, crunchy Cilantrodelicate leaves, citrus, bright
Coconutfragrant, mildly oily, mildly sweet
Daikon (sometimes called white, long, or
winter radish)crisp, juicy, mild
Garlicpungent, spicy, strong Gingeraromatic, spicy, pungent
Green Onions (aka scallions)sweet, mild, crunchy Guavasweet and ver y fragrant, dense texture, moderately acidic Hawaiian Chili Peppers (nīoi)hot, small, similar to thai chili
Liliko‘i (passion fruit)pineapple-y tart, berr ylike flavor, ver y aromatic
Maui Onionsweet and mild flavor, crispy, juicy Napa Cabbage (Won Bok)thick stems, frilly leaves, sweet Okinawan Sweet Potatosweet, purple, chestnut notes
Pohole Fern (also called ostrich fern,
warabi, ho‘i‘o, kosade, or pako)crunchy outside like asparagus, nutty, slimy inside like okra
Solo Papayasweet with distinct smell, melony flavor, soft flesh Taro (kalo or lū‘au) Leavessubtle, slightly nutty, varies in size Taro (kalo) Rootstarchy, meaty, mildly sweet
Ti Leavespliable, aromatic, small
Watercresspepper y, mustardy, delicate leaves
APPETIZERS
(Pūpū)
Call them what you will: pūpū, appetizers, hors d’oeuvres, small plates, small
bites, or even tapas. Pūpū, a word that can mean both “small shells” and “small bites,” are found at most local
parties and can range from fresh to fried and everything in between. It’s not uncommon to find a
table filled with an abundance of pūpū, so many so that you may
find yourself stuffed before the main course comes! And these bites are not
exclusive to parties; they are great to take along to the beach or park.
SHOYU ‘AHI POKE
It seems like there are new,
flavor-packed poke spots popping up on every corner of Los Angeles, New York,
and San Francisco, but in Hawai‘i, simplicity is king. The fresh, raw fish is
meant to be the shining star of the dish. When I was in my early twenties, I
lived in Honolulu. After a long day of work, I’d grab a tub of poke from
Tamura’s Liquor and Fine Wine on Waialae Avenue, one of the best places in the
city for poke, and a couple of ice-cold Japanese beers. From there, I’d go
home, grab Vienna (my dog), a towel, and a friend, and we’d spend the evening
at the beach with our pūpū (aka appetizers) and refreshments while we watched
the sun go down.
Poke literally translates to
“section” or “to slice or cut,” so it makes sense that it’s the name of a dish
that’s basically just cubes of beautiful raw fish. The most common type of fish
used is ‘ahi, or yellowfin tuna, but no matter what, you want the freshest fish
you can possibly find. Ask your fish guy for sashimi- or sushi-grade cuts, tell
him you’re making poke, and chances are he’ll hook you up with the best fish
he’s got.
Serves 2 to 4
pound fresh sashimi-grade
‘ahi steak, chilled and cut into 1-inch cubes 1½ tablespoons soy sauce (shoyu),
plus more to taste
1 tablespoon sesame oil
¾ teaspoon Hawaiian salt
(‘alaea), plus more to taste ¼ cup thinly sliced Maui or yellow onion ½ cup
chopped green onions, green parts only ⅛teaspoon gochugaru (see this page)
1 tablespoon finely chopped
toasted macadamia nuts 2 cups steamed rice, for serving
In a bowl, combine the cubed ‘ahi, soy sauce, sesame oil, salt,
Maui onion, green onions, gochugaru, and toasted macadamia nuts and gently toss
with your hands or a wooden spoon. Adjust the seasoning to your liking.
Ser ve over rice and enjoy immediately.
ON THE MENU:
Pickled Onion, this page Kālua Pig, this
page Haupia, this page
FRIED WONTONS
Every memorable hostess has a
party trick; this was my mom’s. I fondly recall the days when I’d hang out with
her in the kitchen, making what at the time felt like millions of wontons.
Sometimes called crispy gau gee, these fried dumplings are filled with a deeply
flavorful medley of meat and veggies. Growing up, they were snatched off trays
at lightningquick speed, and they’ll surely be the hit of your dinner party,
too. Uncooked wontons can be frozen, boiled, and added to dishes such as Saimin
(this page) or Oxtail Soup (this page).
Serves 6 to 8
dried shiitake mushrooms ½
cup hot water
4 ounces medium (41/50) raw
shrimp, peeled and deveined, tails removed 12 ounces ground pork
2 garlic cloves, chopped 2
tablespoons oyster sauce ½ teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper, or more to taste Half 8-ounce can sliced water chestnuts, drained
and finely diced ½ cup finely chopped green onions, white and green parts ¼
Maui onion, finely chopped
48 wonton wrappers (pei)
Neutral oil, for deep-fr ying Plum sauce, for serving
Chinese hot mustard powder,
for ser ving Soy sauce (shoyu), for ser ving
Begin by soaking the shiitake mushrooms in the hot water in a bowl
for 10 minutes. Use a smaller bowl to weigh down the mushrooms, if
necessar y. Finely mince the shrimp with a heavy knife until the
shrimp becomes paste-like; alternatively, pulse the shrimp in a food processor
until the same paste-like results are achieved. After the shiitake mushrooms
have soaked for 10 minutes, drain, press out any excess liquid, and finely dice
the mushrooms, discarding the stems. Combine the shiitake, shrimp, pork,
garlic, oyster sauce, salt, pepper, water chestnuts, green onions, and Maui
onion in a bowl and mix with
a wooden spoon until well combined. Do not overmix.
Place a wonton wrapper on a clean, dr y surface, arranging it so
that points are at the top and the bottom. Place 2 teaspoons of filling in the
center of the wonton wrapper. Dip your finger in a small bowl of water and use
it to lightly moisten the two top sides of the wrapper. Bring the bottom two
sides up to meet the top moistened sides. Press the sides together to seal. If
desired, pinch the outer edges from the longer sides of the triangle together.
Repeat the process until all the filling and/or wrappers are used.
Line a rimmed baking sheet with paper towels and top with a wire
rack. Fill a wide Dutch oven or pot with 2 inches of neutral oil. Warm the oil
over medium heat to 350°F. Fry the wontons in small batches until golden brown
and cooked through, 4 to 5 minutes. Transfer to the prepared baking sheet to
drain. Repeat until all the wontons have been fried.
Ser ve warm with plum sauce or Chinese hot mustard paste (whisk
together equal parts dr y mustard powder with cold water until smooth) mixed
with soy sauce.
Note: Use the leftover water chestnuts in scrambles, fried rice,
or any stir-fry.
ON THE MENU: Namasu, this page
Maui-Style Kalbi Short Ribs, this page
Macadamia Nut Cream Pie, this page
MAKI SUSHI
There’s a good chance that if
you attend a potluck in Maui, at least one family will bring a giant tray of
maki sushi from Pukalani Superette. Always a crowd favorite, maki sushi is a
sliced, rolled sushi that is stuffed with various seasoned meats and pickled
vegetables, ranging from tuna to watercress. The rainbow of fillings looks
beautiful and impressive when fanned out on a platter. While making your own
maki sushi takes a bit of time, don’t let that overwhelm you. Most parts can be
made the day before, and you can enlist friends or family to help with the
rolling. Call it the pre-party to the actual party!
Makes 6 to 8 rolls
Sushi Rice
cups uncooked short-grain
rice ⅓cup rice vinegar
⅓cup sugar
2 teaspoons kosher salt
Shoyu Tuna
teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons soy sauce (shoyu)
2 teaspoons mirin
One 4-ounce can tuna, in
water, drained
Omelet
large eggs
1 tablespoon whole milk Large pinch of kosher salt 1½ teaspoons
neutral oil
Quick Pickled Carrots
carrots, peeled and julienned
2 tablespoons sugar
teaspoons kosher salt 2
tablespoons rice vinegar
1 bunch watercress, ends
trimmed 8 sheets roasted sushi nori
One 8½-ounce can seasoned
gourd strips with mushroom (makisushi-no-moto), drained (optional)
To make the sushi rice, cook the rice according to the directions
of your rice cooker or via stove top if you do not use a rice cooker. While the
rice is cooking, in a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the rice
vinegar, sugar, and salt and bring to a boil. Cook until the sugar and salt
have dissolved. Remove from the heat and let cool slightly while the rice
continues to cook. Pour the sauce over the just-cooked rice, tossing, fanning,
and fluffing it with a rice paddle. Be careful; the rice is hot. Let the rice
cool to room temperature before using.
To make the shoyu tuna, in a small nonstick skillet, combine the
sugar, soy sauce, and mirin and bring to a simmer over medium-low heat. Simmer
for 1 to 2 minutes, until the sugar dissolves, then add the tuna and cook,
stirring often with a wooden spoon, until the liquid evaporates. Remove from
the heat and let cool completely before using.
To make the omelet, in a small bowl, whisk together the eggs,
milk, and salt until well blended. In a small nonstick skillet, heat 1 teaspoon
of the neutral oil over medium-low heat until shiny and shimmering. Pour the
egg mixture in and let sit until the edges start to set, about 30 seconds. Push
the edges in, toward the center of the pan, with a silicone spatula while
tilting the pan to allow the uncooked egg to spread out. Turn the heat to low
and cover the pan with a lid. Let sit for 1 to 2 minutes, until almost all the
egg has set, then carefully flip the entire omelet over, adding the remaining ½
teaspoon oil to the pan right before you flip. Cook for a minute or so,
with the lid off, then remove from the heat and let cool before
cutting into ½-inch-wide strips.
To make the quick pickled carrots, prepare an ice-water bath by
filling a bowl with a handful of ice cubes and water, and set it aside.
Bring a small pan of water to a simmer over medium heat and
quickly blanch the carrots by cooking them in the simmering water for 1 minute,
then plunging them into the ice-water bath. Remove the carrots from the bath
after a minute or two, reserving the ice-water bath for the watercress. In a
small bowl, whisk together the sugar, salt, and rice vinegar and add the
carrots. Let sit for 15 minutes; drain the pickling liquid before using.
Bring the water in the saucepan back to a simmer over medium heat
and blanch the watercress by cooking it in the simmering water until it’s
wilted, about 30 seconds. Immediately transfer it to the ice bath and let sit
until cooled, a minute or two. Drain the watercress and soak up any extra water
from the watercress with a couple of paper towels.
Place a sudare (bamboo mat) on a clean work surface, with the
bamboo running horizontal. Add a sheet of nori, shiny side facedown, and align
the bottom edge with the edge of the sudare. Spread the sushi rice in a thin
layer, about ¼ inch thick, leaving a 1½-inch margin on the end farthest from
you. Leave a ½-inch margin of rice on the end closest to you and arrange your
fillings in a row in this order: omelet, carrots, watercress, seasoned gourd
and mushrooms (if using), and tuna, with each row touching the previous row.
Carefully roll the sushi away from you, using the mat to apply pressure. Use
one hand to keep the filling in place until you get to the point when the mat
touches the rice. At this point, lift the mat away from the rice so that you
can continue until the sushi is completely rolled. Repeat this process until
all the rice has been used.
Cut the rolls into ½-inch-thick slices, fan them out on a platter,
and ser ve.
Note: Use any extra fillings and rice to build a sushi bowl.
ON THE MENU:
Takuan, this page
Ginger Misoyaki Butterfish, this page
Guava Cake, this page
MANDOO
Mandoo (mandu) are Korean
dumplings. Like their Chinese cousin the wonton, they are usually stuffed with
a combination of meat and vegetables. These flavor-filled pockets can be
deep-fried, steamed, or, in this case, panfried. They can also be added to
soups for nice pops of flavor. There’s really very little they can’t do. What I
love about mandoo is that they can be made in advance, frozen, and then pulled
out whenever you’re ready for them.
Makes about 75 mandoo
Dipping Sauce
tablespoons soy sauce (shoyu)
1 tablespoon rice vinegar 1 tablespoon water 2 teaspoons sugar
¼ teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper ⅛teaspoon gochugaru (see this page)
Mandoo
tablespoon plus ½ teaspoon
kosher salt
½ head small napa cabbage
(won bok; about 1 pound), shredded 12 ounces ground pork
4 ounces medium (41/50) raw
shrimp, peeled and deveined, tails removed, then chopped 4 green onions, white
and green parts, finely chopped
2 large fresh shiitake
mushrooms, finely diced One 1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and finely grated
2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely grated
½ teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper 1 tablespoon sesame oil
One 16-ounce package mandoo
(or gyoza) wrappers (about 75 wrappers) Neutral oil, for panfr ying
To make the dipping sauce, in a small bowl, whisk together the soy
sauce, rice vinegar, water, sugar, black pepper, and gochugaru until
the sugar is dissolved. Cover the bowl with plastic
wrap and store in the refrigerator until ready to use.
To make the mandoo, in a large bowl, sprinkle 1 tablespoon of the
salt over the cabbage. Toss it together with your hands and set aside for 15
minutes to soften. Squeeze out as much moisture as you can from the cabbage
(use your hands to do this). In another bowl, combine the cabbage with the
pork, shrimp, green onions, mushrooms, ginger, garlic, black pepper, sesame oil,
and the remaining ½ teaspoon kosher salt and mix together with your hands or a
wooden spoon until combined.
With a wrapper in the palm of your nondominant hand, place a
heaping teaspoon of filling in the center of the wrapper. Dip the index finger
of your dominant hand in a bowl of warm water and run it along the outer edge
of the wrapper. Loosely fold the wrapper in half, into a half-moon shape, and
pinch the edge closest to your thumb (in your nondominant hand) closed with
your thumb and index finger. Use your dominant hand to fold a series of seven
to ten tiny pleats on the front half of the wrapper, pressing each pleat firmly
onto the back half of the wrapper. Stand the mandoo on a tray and cover with a
clean kitchen towel. Repeat until all the wrappers are used.
Add a few teaspoons of neutral oil to a nonstick skillet and heat
over medium heat until shiny and shimmering. Working in batches, place the
mandoo upright in the pan, leaving enough room between them so you can turn
them all on their sides later. Cook, uncovered, until the bottoms are golden
and crispy, 2 to 3 minutes. Turn the mandoo onto their sides (the flatter
side), add 2 to 3 tablespoons water, and immediately (and carefully) cover the
pan with a lid to steam them. Cook until the bottoms are crispy and the
dumplings are cooked through, 3 to 4 minutes. Repeat until all the dumplings
are cooked. Ser ve hot with the dipping sauce.
Note: Alternatively, you can freeze any dumplings you are not
planning to serve immediately. Place the uncooked dumplings onto a baking
sheet, and slip into the freezer for 30 minutes, then transfer them to a
ziplock freezer bag. To cook frozen dumplings, follow the same directions,
adding a couple of extra minutes to the steaming time.
ON THE MENU:
Kim Chee, this page
Meat Jun, this page
Lilikoʻi
Chiffon Pie, this page
LUMPIA
The first time I ever had
lumpia was at the Maui County fair. I still remember it as the best I’ve ever
had—the crispy, thin wrapper shattered the second I bit into it, and the
filling was so flavorful. If you ever happen to be in Maui at the beginning of
October, I highly recommend you check out the fair, and wear your stretchy
pants! While it’s easy to assume lumpia is Chinese because it looks a lot like
an egg roll, it’s actually Filipino. However, it was introduced to the
Philippines by Chinese immigrants, so there is a reason the two are so similar.
As similar as they are, there is one main difference. Lumpia skins are
paper-thin, while egg roll wrappers are usually denser, like wontons. Look for
them in the freezer section at an Asian market. Fun fact: Not all lumpia are
savory. Banana lumpia are also very popular in Hawaiʻi and
usually made with small, tart apple bananas.
Serves 6 to 8
tablespoon neutral oil, plus
more for frying ½ Maui or yellow onion, finely diced 2 pounds ground pork
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper 4 garlic cloves, peeled and finely minced 4 carrots, peeled and
julienned
6 to 8 green onions, green
parts only, chopped
4 ounces bean thread noodles
(see this
page), soaked in hot water for 30 minutes, drained,
and cut in half
2 tablespoons soy sauce
(shoyu) 2 teaspoons fish sauce
1 teaspoon sesame oil
One 16-ounce package Chinese
spring roll (lumpia) wrappers (about 30 wrappers) Sweet chili sauce, for
dipping (Mae Ploy brand preferred)
In a large skillet, heat 1 tablespoon neutral oil over medium heat
until shiny and shimmering. Add the Maui onion and sauté until almost
translucent, 4 to 5 minutes. Add the pork and sauté until the meat is browned,
about 3 minutes, breaking up the meat with a wooden spoon as it browns. Season
the mixture with the salt and pepper, add the garlic, and cook for a minute or
two. Add the carrots and cook until they are tender, about 3 minutes. Add the
green onions, bean thread noodles, soy sauce, fish sauce, and sesame oil and
sauté for a minute or two more. Remove from the heat and let cool completely
before using.
While the filling is cooling, peel apart all the wrappers. Start
by placing the stack of wrappers under a damp, clean kitchen towel, with
another damp towel ready nearby. Peel off one wrapper, place the shiny side
down, and cover with the other damp kitchen towel. Repeat until all the
wrappers are peeled apart and loosely stacked under the towel.
Place a wrapper, shiny side down, so that the two corners are
pointing away from and toward you. Place 3 tablespoons filling near the corner
edge closest to you, arranging the filling so that it forms a line
perpendicular to the top and bottom corners. Roll the edge of the wrapper
toward the middle, away from you, rolling until you reach about the halfway
point. Fold both sides in, keeping everything as tight as possible, and
continue rolling. Dip your finger in a small bowl of water and run it along the
outer edge of the wrapper to seal it. Repeat until all the filling and/or
wrappers are used.
Line a large platter with paper towels and heat 1 inch of neutral
oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat until it is shiny and hot. Fry the
rolls in batches until golden and crispy, 2 to 3 minutes on each side. Set on
the prepared plate to drain. Ser ve warm with the sweet chili sauce.
ON THE MENU:
Mac Salad, this page Pork and Peas, this
page
Sweet Potato Haupia Bars, this page
CONE SUSHI
Also called inari, cone sushi
gets its name from its conical shape. Squares of seasoned aburage (fried bean
curd) are cut in half to form cones, and sushi rice is stuffed inside. Miyako
Sushi, Inc., in Wailuku on the island of Maui, makes my favorite cone sushi. It
is perfectly balanced: not too sweet, not too salty, and never greasy. To find
aburage, check the freezer section of an Asian market, or look for a place that
makes tofu, as chances are they make aburage too. Dashi (broth) granules can be
found in the Asian section of most supermarkets.
Makes 18 cone sushi
Cone Sushi Rice
cups uncooked short-grain
rice
1 carrot, peeled, julienned,
and chopped into ½-inch lengths ⅓cup plus 3
tablespoons rice vinegar
½ cup sugar
2½ teaspoons kosher salt
Seasoned Aburage
fried bean curds (aburage),
cut in half on the diagonal 1 teaspoon dashi granules
1½ cups water
3 tablespoons sugar 2 tablespoons mirin 2 tablespoons sake
3 tablespoons soy sauce
(shoyu)
To make the cone sushi rice, cook the rice according to the directions
of your rice cooker or via stove top if you do not use a rice cooker. While the
rice is cooking, fill a small saucepan halfway with water
and bring to a simmer. Add the carrot and cook until the carrot is
tender, a minute or two. Drain the water from the pan and transfer the carrot
to a small bowl. Return the small saucepan to the stove top; add the vinegar,
sugar, and salt; and bring to a boil over medium heat. Cook for 2 to 3 minutes,
until the sugar and salt have dissolved. Remove from the heat and let cool
slightly while the rice continues to cook. Combine the just-cooked rice with
the carrot and pour the sauce over the rice, tossing, fanning, and fluffing it
with a rice paddle. Be careful; the rice is hot.
To make the seasoned aburage, bring a large saucepan filled
halfway with water to a boil over high heat. Turn the heat to medium, then add
the bean curds and cook for 2 minutes; this helps to remove the oil from the
curds. Drain the water from the pan and transfer the bean curds to a plate. In
the same saucepan, combine the dashi granules, water, sugar, mirin, sake, and
soy sauce and bring to a boil over high heat. Add the bean curds and turn the
heat to medium-low. Simmer for 15 minutes, then remove from the heat and let
cool to room temperature in the pan.
Once cool, drain the sauce from the pan and gently press or
squeeze any remaining liquid from the aburage. Separate the tofu insides from
the outer fried skin, or wrapper, of the aburage. Mix the inside tofu bits into
the seasoned sushi rice. Fill the aburage pouches with the rice, pressing
gently to pack lightly, and ser ve at room temperature.
ON THE MENU:
Pohole Fern
Salad, this page Mochiko Chicken, this page Pie Crust Manju, this page
SIDES
Don’t be fooled by the word “side”: in Hawai‘i, most meals are accompanied by at
least one side dish. They’re
essential when building a proper plate lunch (see this page): Kālua Pig (this page) is almost
always paired with Lomi Salmon (this page) and
Poi (this page), and in my house, Takuan (this
page) and Mochiko Chicken (this page) are always served together! From pickles to mayo-y
salads, here are a few of the many sides you will find in the islands.
MAC SALAD
“I’m obsessed with Hawaiian
mac salad!” I can’t tell you how many friends from the mainland have said this
very sentence to me. It’s usually followed by “What’s the secret ingredient?”
Well, I think the answer is grated onions. Yes, pull out your box grater and
grate your onions with the small grate side, making sure to add all the liquid
goodness that weeps out. You want your onions to be almost liquefied to get
that Hawai‘i-style mac salad flavor. This salad is served with almost every
plate lunch and at most family gatherings. There are many variations— with
green onions, peas, chopped ham, or even tuna—but this recipe makes a good
basic island-style mac salad. And because it’s my favorite, I’ve also included
a variation with potato and hard-boiled eggs.
Serves 6 to 8
ounces dry elbow macaroni
Kosher salt
2 tablespoons grated Maui or
yellow onion (roughly ¼ whole onion) 1 to 1½ cups Best Foods (or Hellmann’s)
mayonnaise 2 tablespoons sweet pickle juice
3 tablespoons sweet pickle
relish Freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup coarsely grated carrot
(½ medium carrot)
Cook the macaroni, salting the water with 2 tablespoons kosher
salt, according to the instructions on the package, until very tender, not al
dente. Drain and transfer to a large bowl. Let cool slightly for 10 minutes,
then add the onion, ½ cup of the mayonnaise, the pickle juice, relish, and
pepper to taste and toss until well coated. Taste and season as needed with
salt and pepper. Chill for 1 hour.
When ready to serve, stir in ½ cup of the mayonnaise and the
carrot; add more mayonnaise if it looks dry. Taste and adjust the seasoning as
needed. Serve chilled.
POTATO MAC SALAD
Kosher salt
3 medium russet potatoes,
peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes 8 ounces dry elbow macaroni
4 large hard-boiled eggs,
peeled and coarsely chopped 3 tablespoons grated Maui or yellow onion (roughly ⅓whole onion) 1½ to 2 cups Best
Foods (or Hellmann’s) mayonnaise 3 tablespoons sweet pickle juice
¼ cup sweet pickle relish
Freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup coarsely grated carrot
(½ medium carrot)
Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat, then add 2
tablespoons kosher salt and the cubed potatoes. Turn the heat to medium-high
and cook until fork-tender, 10 to 12 minutes. Drain and transfer to a large
bowl.
Meanwhile, cook the macaroni, salting the water with 2 tablespoons
kosher salt, according to the instructions on the package, until ver y tender,
not al dente. Drain and add to the bowl with the potatoes. Let cool slightly
for 10 minutes, then add the eggs, onion, 1 cup of the mayonnaise, the pickle
juice, relish, and pepper to taste and toss until well coated. Taste and season
as needed with salt and pepper. Chill for 1 hour.
When ready to serve, stir in ½ cup of the mayonnaise and the
carrot; add more mayonnaise if it looks dry. Taste and adjust the seasoning as
needed. Serve chilled.
ON THE MENU: Takuan, this page
Local-Style BBQ Chicken, this page Butter
Mochi, this page
CHICKEN LONG RICE
Chicken long rice is often
assumed to be a Hawaiian dish, as it’s served at most lūʻau with poi,
lomi salmon, laulau, and kālua pig, but it actually originated as a Chinese
noodle dish. And while it’s commonly served as a side dish at lūʻau, it can
stand alone as a rainy-day soup. If you’re serving it as a main dish, I
recommend adding some veggies, like carrots, sweet onions, and mushrooms.
Serves 6 to 8
½ pounds skin-on, bone-in
chicken thighs 12 cups chicken broth
5 garlic cloves, peeled and
lightly smashed
One 5-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and thinly julienned 1½ teaspoons Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
One 5.3-ounce package bean
thread noodles (see this
page) 6 green onions, white and green parts, chopped
Place the chicken, broth, garlic, three-quarters of the ginger,
and the salt into a large pot. Bring everything to a boil over high heat, then
turn the heat to medium-low and simmer with the lid on until the chicken is
tender, about 45 minutes. Skim off the surface of the broth periodically while
simmering. Once the chicken is cooked, remove it from the broth and place on a
plate to cool slightly. Continue simmering the broth while the chicken cools.
Meanwhile, place the bean thread noodles in a large bowl and cover
with cold water. Let sit for 30 minutes to hydrate and soften the noodles;
drain the water from the bowl and cut the soaked noodles in half or thirds with
a pair of kitchen shears.
When the chicken is cool enough to touch, remove the skin and
bones and cut the meat into bite-size pieces. Add the meat back to the
broth, along with half of the green onions, and continue to
simmer. Skim any scum that may form. Add the hydrated bean thread noodles to
the broth and simmer for another 10 minutes, until the noodles are clear,
plumped, and tender. Garnish with the remaining julienned ginger and chopped
green onions and ser ve hot.
ON THE MENU:
Poi, this page
Pork Laulau, this page Haupia, this page
LOMI SALMON
A vestige of the whaling
industry, lomi salmon is a staple at lūʻau and grocery stores alike.
While it’s common to find salt (salted) salmon and lomi salmon in grocery
stores in Hawai‘i, I have learned that is not the case on the mainland and the
rest of the world. That makes this recipe a two-day affair, as the salmon takes
a day to cure in the salt. Better ingredients make for a better lomi salmon, so
look for fresh salmon, ripe tomatoes, and sweet onions.
Serves 6 to 8
½ pound salmon fillet,
skinned and boned ¼ cup Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
4 Roma tomatoes, seeded and
chopped 2 small Maui onions, peeled and chopped 6 green onions, green parts
only, chopped ¼ teaspoon gochugaru (see this page)
Place the salmon in a nonreactive rimmed dish or pan large enough
for the fillet to lie flat and evenly coat both sides with the salt. Cover the
dish with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 24 hours.
The next day, prepare an ice-water bath by filling a large bowl
with a handful of ice and water.
Rinse the salt from the fish and soak the fish in the ice-water
bath for 1 hour. Slice the salmon into ¼- to ½-inch cubes and place them into a
nonreactive bowl. Add the tomatoes, Maui onions, green onions, and gochugaru
and gently toss with your hands. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and
refrigerate for several hours before serving.
ON THE MENU:
Poi, this page
Kālua Pig, this page
Sweet Potato Haupia Bars, this page
POHOLE FERN SALAD
If I were writing a book
about pohole fern, I would call it Pohole: A Fern of Many Names. It is called
ostrich fern on the mainland, pohole fern on Maui, hōʻiʻo on Oʻahu, pako in
the Philippines, warabi in Japan, and kosade in Korea. A foraged fern shoot,
pohole are bright green, unfurled fern heads that are harvested when they’re
young and anywhere from 6 to 9 inches in height. The distinctive flavor can be
described as nutty and mildly sweet, and the texture is akin to okra on the
inside and young asparagus on the outside. Before using, snap off the ends of
the fern shoot, the same way you would for asparagus. Paired with a sweet umami
sauce and bright cherry tomatoes, this salad is a crowd-pleaser.
Serves 6 to 8
pound pohole fern
1 pound cherry tomatoes,
quartered ½ small Maui onion, thinly sliced lengthwise 5 green onions, green
parts only, chopped 1 tablespoon fish sauce
¼ cup soy sauce (shoyu) 3
tablespoons rice vinegar 2 tablespoons sesame oil ¼ cup sugar
Prepare an ice-water bath by filling a large bowl with a handful
of ice cubes and water, and set it aside. Wash and remove any little “hairs”
from the pohole fern shoots. Cut the shoots into 1½-inch segments and blanch
for 1 minute in a pot of boiling water. Drain the shoots into a colander and
immediately transfer them to the ice-water
bath. Once cooled, drain the water from the ferns and place them
in a bowl with the tomatoes, Maui onions, and green onions.
In a small bowl, whisk together the fish sauce, soy sauce, vinegar,
oil, and sugar until the sugar has dissolved. Pour the mixture over the
vegetables and gently toss with your hands. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap
and refrigerate for several hours before serving.
Note: Fresh pohole will keep in the refrigerator for about a
week. If you aren’t in Hawai‘i, I’d recommend checking with a specialty foods
purveyor to help you source the fern.
ON THE MENU: Poi, this page
Chinese-Style Steamed Fish, this page
Kūlolo Bars, this page
POI
Nowadays you can find fresh
poi in grocery stores all over the islands. It’s made commercially by companies
such as Hanalei Poi on Kaua‘i and Taro Brand on O‘ahu. However, before it was
made in bulk with modern machinery, steamed and peeled taro (kalo) root was
pounded by hand on beautiful papa kuʻi ʻai (wooden
boards) using pōhaku kuʻi ʻai (stone pestles). This created a thick substance called pa‘i
‘ai; by adding water to it, you create poi. While the OG (original gangsta)
process is very satisfying, I understand if you don’t have access to a board
and pestle. To make poi at home, you’ll need a high-speed food processor. To
find taro root, take a trip to an Asian market and ask someone to help you find
a medium-size taro, gabi, dasheen, or malanga corm that weighs around 2 pounds.
Serves 4 to 6
pounds taro (kalo) root,
cleaned ½ to ⅔cup water
Bring a large pot of water to boil over high heat. Add the taro,
turn the heat to medium-low, and cook until very tender, about 1 hour. You can
test this by inserting a fork into the taro; if it’s very easy to pierce the
taro, it’s done. Drain off the water and let the taro rest until it is cool
enough to pick up.
Wearing disposable gloves and using the side of a spoon, peel the
skin off the taro. Be sure to remove all the skin.
Transfer the cooked and peeled taro to your food processor with ½
cup of the water. Process on high speed for 3 minutes, then scrape down the
sides. Process until smooth, about 2 minutes more. You can add more water if
necessary—the final consistency should be thick and smooth like molasses.
You can ser ve the poi immediately or allow it to age a day or
two. If you are aging your poi, carefully pour a layer of water over it to
prevent a skin from forming on the top. Simply pour off the water when you are
ready to ser ve it. The poi will keep for 3 days stored in an airtight
container in the refrigerator.
Note: Be sure to wear disposable gloves when handling raw taro,
as the calcium oxalate crystals in its skin and leaves are irritating and can
cause a rash. This is also why taro cannot be consumed in its raw form; it must
be cooked.
ON THE MENU: Lomi Salmon, this page
Fried Reef Fish, this page Haupia, this page
PICKLED ONION
Sabula de vinha, or pickled
onion, is a great way to add crunch, tang, and a little flavor to any dish. It
can be sweet or hot and, like kim chee, is found in local grocery stores across
the state. I prefer my pickled onions sweet, but if you are not a fan of sweet
pickled onions or are trying to minimize your sugar intake, feel free to cut
back on the sugar listed here.
Makes about 1 quart
Maui or yellow onions 1 cup
distilled white vinegar 1 cup water
1½ tablespoons Hawaiian salt
(‘alaea) ¾ cup sugar
2 Hawaiian chili peppers
(nīoi), finely diced
Cut the onions in half lengthwise, from the bulb end to the top of
the onion, and remove the paper y outer skins. Cut off any dried root ends without
cutting off the entire bottom of the onion. This is important because you want
to keep the wedges intact, if possible. From there, simply cut the halves into
½-inch wedges and layer and pack them into a quart-size jar.
In a small, nonreactive saucepan, combine the vinegar, water,
salt, sugar, and chili peppers and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. As
soon as the mixture comes to a boil, remove the pan from the heat and let cool
for 5 minutes. Pour the hot mixture over the onions and cover the jar. Let cool
to room temperature before transferring the jar to the refrigerator. Chill for
2 days before ser ving. This will keep for two weeks in the refrigerator.
ON THE MENU: Mac Salad, this page
Beef Stew, this page Malasadas, this page
NAMASU
When you look at most meals
in Hawai‘i, you’ll usually see a main, a starch (probably rice), and a bunch of
sides. We’re talking Kim Chee (this page), Mac Salad (this
page), Lomi Salmon (this page), or something pickled. Namasu is a Japanese-style
vinegar-dressed dish. It’s typically made with cucumbers, though it’s not
uncommon to find it with carrots and daikon, as well as limu (ogo), bean
sprouts, lotus root, or even celery. And the options aren’t just limited to
plants. There are many recipes that add clam, crab, abalone, and shrimp (both
dried and freshly cooked). My mom always has some version of this side on hand,
and she pulls it out for pretty much every meal—breakfast included.
Makes about 1 quart
¾ cup plus 1 tablespoon rice
vinegar ¾ cup sugar
2 Japanese cucumbers, or 1
English cucumber, sliced into ¼-inch-thick rounds 1 medium carrot, peeled and
julienned
½ daikon radish (about 1¼
pounds), peeled and julienned 2 teaspoons Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
In a nonreactive saucepan over medium heat, stir the vinegar and
sugar together and cook until the sugar has dissolved. Remove from the heat and
let cool to room temperature.
In a mixing bowl, toss the cucumbers, carrot, and daikon with the
salt. Let sit for 30 minutes. Rinse and drain thoroughly. Place the vegetables
in a jar and cover with the vinegar mixture. Cover and
chill in the refrigerator for 24 hours before serving. This will
keep for 2 weeks in the refrigerator.
ON THE MENU: Potato Mac Salad, this
page Chicken Katsu, this page Cascaron, this page
TAKUAN
Growing up, I never stopped
to question what the bright yellow-colored pickled veggies sitting next to my
rice were. My mom used to pull a giant jar out of the fridge most mornings to
serve with our eggs and rice. I’d find them in my bentos for lunch, and they
were almost always found on the dinner table. The scent is a bit of a surprise,
but the combination of pungent daikon (a long white radish), tangy vinegar, and
sweet-and-salty crunch more than makes up for the shock. The trick to this
pickle is a bit of patience. You’ll need to let them sit for at least 3 days
before serving. Crunchy and a little funky smelling (in the best way), this
pickled daikon is the perfect accompaniment to just about any savory dish, but
my favorites are Mochiko Chicken (this page) or
Teriyaki Beef Sticks (this page) and rice. Be
sure to look for a firm daikon radish, as you’ll need it for the crunch!
Makes about 1 quart
large or 2 small firm daikon
radishes (about 2½ pounds), peeled ¼ cup Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
½ cup rice vinegar
1½ cups sugar
3 or 4 squeezes of yellow
food coloring gel (optional) 1 Hawaiian chili pepper (nīoi), thinly sliced
(optional)
Cut the daikon into ⅜-inch-thick rounds and toss with the salt. Let sit uncovered at
room temperature for 3 hours, then rinse and squeeze out the excess water
before packing it into a jar. Meanwhile, combine the vinegar, sugar, food
coloring, and chili pepper (if using) in a small, nonreactive saucepan and
bring to a boil. Cool the sugarvinegar sauce to room temperature while the
daikon sits. Pour it over the prepared daikon slices in the jar and store in
the refrigerator for
at least 3 days but preferably a week before serving. This will
keep for 2 weeks in the refrigerator.
ON THE MENU:
Cone Sushi, this page Chicken Katsu, this
page Gau, this page
KIM CHEE
Hot and spicy, this Korean
pickle, commonly spelled kimchi, is a staple in most Hawai‘i fridges. From
Halm’s to Kohala, you can find a variety of kim chee on grocery-store shelves.
NOH Foods even sells a kim chee seasoning packet. And while it’s typically made
with napa cabbage (won bok), you can also find varieties made with cucumber,
daikon, and limu (ogo). Kim chee is great with dishes like Maui-Style Kalbi
Short Ribs (this
page), Shoyu Chicken (this page), and even eggs and rice in the morning! You can also chop
it up and add it to your fried rice.
Makes about 1 quart
One 3-pound head napa cabbage
(won bok) ¾ cup Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
1½ tablespoons gochugaru (see
this page)
One 3-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and finely grated (about 1½ teaspoons) 4 or 5 garlic cloves,
peeled and finely grated (about 1½ teaspoons) 1 teaspoon sugar
5 green onions, white and
green parts, chopped into 1½-inch pieces (optional)
Cut off the tough ends and core the cabbage, then cut it into
1½-inch pieces. Rinse the cabbage in cold water and drain in a colander before
placing the pieces into a large bowl. Sprinkle the salt all over the cabbage
and gently massage it in. Let the cabbage sit for a total of 4 hours, massaging
it ever y 30 minutes. Rinse the cabbage thoroughly in cold water, repeat, then
drain in a colander.
Clean the cabbage bowl and add the gochugaru, ginger, garlic, and
sugar. Put on a pair of disposable gloves and work in the ingredients with your
hands until thoroughly combined; it should form a cohesive paste. Return the
cabbage to the bowl along with the green onions (if using) and mix everything well
with your hands. Be
sure to evenly coat the cabbage pieces in the paste.
Alternatively, you can mix the paste together with a wooden spoon before mixing
the cabbage in.
Transfer the mixture to a quart-size jar, packing the cabbage
tightly, and cover it with a piece of plastic wrap followed by a tight-fitting
lid. Store in a cool, dark, dr y spot for 2 days to ferment slightly. Open the
lid twice daily, once in the morning and once at night, to let any gases out
and
to prevent the jar from
exploding.
After 2 days, transfer the jar to the refrigerator to slowly
ferment for another 3 days before serving. This will keep, refrigerated, for
about a month.
ON THE MENU: Mandoo, this page
Meat Jun, this page Shave Ice, this page
PORTUGUESE SAUSAGE PATTIES
Linguiça, more commonly
referred to as Portuguese sausage, is one of my favorite tastes of home. When I
was in college, I’d freeze a bunch of Hawaiian Sausage Company Portuguese Brand
Sausage (Hot), wrap them up in foil, and bring them back to San Diego with me.
Nowadays, I pick them up in my local Marukai Market in Los Angeles, but on days
when I don’t feel like making a special trip to Little Tokyo, I make my own, in
patty form. Packed with spice and garlic, Portuguese sausage is the perfect
addition to your breakfast plate. I serve it with my soft scrambled eggs and
steamed white rice. This combination is so popular that you can even find a
Portuguese sausage breakfast plate at the local McDonald’s in Hawaiʻi. But
please don’t think this side is limited to breakfast; you can also use it in
recipes such as Beef Chili (this page), Portuguese Bean Soup
(this page), and Local-Style Fish (this
page).
Serves 4 to 6
pound well-marbled ground
pork 4 garlic cloves, peeled and finely grated 1 or 2 Hawaiian chili peppers
(nīoi), finely minced ½ teaspoon Portuguese Spice Blend (recipe follows) 1
tablespoon paprika
½ tablespoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar Neutral oil, for fr ying
In large bowl, combine the pork, garlic, chili pepper, spice
blend, paprika, salt, pepper, and vinegar and mix with a wooden spoon or heavy
spatula until well combined. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate
for 24 hours to allow the flavors to meld and mellow.
The next day, scoop up about 2 tablespoons of meat and shape it
into a ball. Flatten the ball with the palms of your hands to form a small,
¼-inch-thick patty. Repeat this process until all the meat has been formed. Be
sure to place a piece of parchment between the patties if you are layering
them. (The patties can be stored in the refrigerator in a covered container for
3 to 4 days or frozen for up to 1 month.)
Warm a tablespoon or two of oil in a skillet over medium heat and
place as many patties as can fit without touching in the pan. Cook for 3 to 4
minutes on each side, until evenly browned and cooked through. Serve
immediately.
PORTUGUESE SPICE BLEND
Makes about ¼ cup
Two 3-inch sticks cinnamon,
broken into pieces with a heavy knife 1 teaspoon whole cloves
2 tablespoons whole black
peppercorns 1 whole star anise
1 bay leaf
Preheat the oven to 300°F. On a small rimmed baking sheet, evenly
spread out the cinnamon, cloves, peppercorns, anise, and bay leaf. Toast in the
oven until the bay leaf is golden brown and the spices are very aromatic, 15 to
20 minutes. Let the spices and bay leaf cool on the pan for at least 5 minutes,
or until cool enough to touch, before transferring them to a spice or coffee
grinder. Grind until all the spices are finely ground, about a minute or two.
Transfer to a small airtight container and store for up to 2 months.
ON THE MENU:
Cornbread, this page
Beef Chili, this page Ice Cake, this page
CORNBREAD
I’m a huge fan of cornbread
because it comes together with very little work and adds a bit of sweetness to
savory, hearty dishes such as Beef Stew (this page),
Portuguese Bean Soup (this page), or even Beef
Chili (this page). While it may seem out of
place in a cookbook all about local Hawai’i eats, it’s actually quite common.
It’s possible it came to our tables in the form of the dense, savory Portuguese
broa (or cornbread); nowadays it’s most frequently enjoyed as a light, sweet
corn cake. Substitute it for the steamed white rice you typically serve with
your hearty soups and stews or, if you prefer, in addition to that starchy
staple.
Makes one 8-inch square or round pan
½ cup cornmeal
1½ cups all-purpose flour ½
cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda 1
teaspoon baking powder ½ teaspoon kosher salt ¼ cup neutral oil
¼ cup unsalted butter, melted
2 large eggs, lightly beaten 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 tablespoon honey
1¼ cups buttermilk, shaken
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease an 8-inch square or round baking
pan.
In a large bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking
soda, baking powder, and salt. Whisk in the oil, melted butter, eggs, vanilla,
honey, and buttermilk. Stir until ever ything is well combined.
Pour the mixture into the prepared pan and bake until golden brown
and a toothpick inserted into the center of the pan comes out clean, 35 to 40
minutes. Let cool on a baking rack for 10 minutes before cutting into 8 to 10
squares or wedges. Ser ve warm.
ON THE MENU:
Lumpia, this page
Portuguese Bean Soup, this page
Double-Chocolate Haupia Pie, this page
PORK
(Puaʻ a)
It’s easy to see that Hawai‘i has an affinity for pork.
Whether it is steamed and baked in an imu (an earthen oven), stewed, or comes
in a can and is panfried, we find many ways to prepare this protein. Try
packing up some SoyGlazed Spam Musubi (this page) for a picnic or making a
batch of Portuguese Bean Soup (this page) for
your next family potluck.
PORK LAULAU
A traditional Hawaiian dish,
laulau consists of a protein, like pork, beef, or chicken and salted
butterfish, wrapped in lūʻau (taro or kalo) leaves, then ti leaves, and steamed. It was
traditionally cooked in an imu (earthen oven), but today it is more commonly
steamed on the stove top in a steamer basket or a pressure cooker. If you don’t
have access to lūʻau leaves, Swiss chard makes an excellent substitute. If you can’t
find ti leaves, ‘a‘ole pilikia (no problem)—use 10-inch squares of parchment
paper instead!
Serves 6 to 8
ounces North Pacific
sablefish (butterfish), cut into 8 equal pieces Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
24 taro (kalo or lūʻau) leaves (see Note, this page) or Swiss chard leaves 16 ti leaves
2 pounds pork butt, with a
fat cap, cut into 8 pieces
Sprinkle each piece of sablefish with a pinch of salt and set
aside.
Wearing disposable gloves (see Note, this page), wash the taro leaves and use a paring knife to remove the
center stem and any tough veins. If using chard, do the same, and also blanch
the leaves until softened. Wash and prepare the ti leaves by stripping off the
stiff rib in the middle of the leaf by cutting a small notch about midway down
the leaf and gently removing it while leaving the leaf intact.
Assemble the parcels (see this pagefor step-by-step photographs)
by stacking 3 taro leaves, vein side down, with the largest leaf on the bottom,
then place a piece of pork and a piece of salted sablefish in the middle. Fold
the left and right sides in, then fold the bottom up before folding the top
over and rolling it until the parcel is closed.
Repeat this until all the leaves and meat are used. Place 2 ti
leaves down, forming a cross. Place a taro leaf parcel in the middle, fold the
first leaf over the bundle, and continue to fold until the parcel is contained,
then wrap the other ti leaf around it in the opposite direction. If using
parchment squares, fold the left and right sides in before folding up the
bottom and then folding down the top. Secure the bundles with kitchen string.
Fill a large pot with 2 inches of water, cover, and bring to a
boil over high heat. Place a steamer basket in the pot and turn the heat to
low. Place the laulau in the steamer basket and replace the lid. Steam,
replenishing the water as needed, for 4 hours to cook off the calcium oxalate
in the taro leaves; if you’re using Swiss chard, steam for 3 hours.
Alternatively, you can steam in a pressure cooker at full pressure for 45
minutes. Serve warm, unwrapping and discarding the ti leaves before eating.
Note: You must cook the taro leaves completely to remove the
calcium oxalate. If you don’t, your mouth and throat will be a little itchy.
ON THE MENU:
Lomi Salmon, this page Chicken Long Rice,
this page Sweet Potato Haupia Bars, this page
KĀLUA PIG
If you’re ever given an
opportunity to experience making a traditional imu, or earthen oven, I would
highly recommend it. It is incredible to see how the imu goes from a freshly
dug pit, lined with kindling, dried kiawe wood, and porous lava rocks, to what
looks like a pit of burning lava, the formerly black rocks now transformed into
bright red balls of fire. It’s a remarkable sight, but it’s that magical moment
when the moist banana stumps are laid down and the air is filled with smoke,
steam, and sugar that gives me chicken skin (aka goosebumps). All of this needs
to happen before the pig and various other items, like laulau and ‘ulu
(breadfruit), can go in, get covered with banana leaves and/or ti leaves, moist
burlap sacks and tarps, and finally a layer of earth. After that, it’s a
waiting game, as the imu does its job, steaming and smoking the food for 6 to 8
hours. The unearthing feels well earned and is greatly anticipated, the aroma
intoxicating.
While I can’t give you quite
the same experience at home, I have devised the next best thing. In your
roasting pan, you will create your own mini imu, where you can steam and smoke
your pig all in the comfort of your own kitchen. A note about the banana
leaves: It’s essential to use previously frozen ones. The fresh leaves are not
as malleable as frozen varieties and end up tearing too easily when wrapped
around the pork. Look for them in an Asian market.
Leftovers are great
sandwiched between Sweet Bread Rolls (this page). Serves 6 to 8
One 5½-pound boneless pork
butt, with fat cap 1 tablespoon neutral oil
3 tablespoons Hawaiian salt
(‘alaea), plus more as needed
frozen banana leaves, thawed,
or 4 large ti leaves, tough stems removed 2 teaspoons liquid smoke (see this page)
Preheat the oven to 325°F. Set a rack in a roasting pan. Using a
small, sharp knife, cut 1-inch slits all over the pork. Coat the entire surface
of the pork with the oil before rubbing it with the salt. Place 1 banana leaf
on a clean work surface and set the pork in the middle of the leaf. Wrap the
leaf around the pork, completely enveloping it in the leaf. Repeat, this time
placing the leaf on the top, covering the ends of the first leaf, and wrapping
it around to the bottom. If you’re using ti leaves, repeat two more times until
the pork butt is completely wrapped. Secure the leaves on all four sides with a
long piece of kitchen string, as if you’re tying up a box. Pour water into a
roasting pan until it reaches just below the roasting rack; make sure you’ve
got at least ½ inch of water. Add the liquid smoke. Place the roast on the rack
and cover the entire pan with aluminum foil.
Roast until the pork roast is ver y tender, about 6 hours. You can
test this by poking it with a fork; if the fork is easily inserted, it’s ready.
Transfer the wrapped pork to a rack set on a rimmed baking sheet and let sit
for 10 to 20 minutes. Unwrap the pork and use two forks to pull or shred the
meat. Taste the pork and sprinkle it with more salt, if necessar y. If the meat
is dr y, add boiling water directly to the shredded pork to moisten as
necessary. Serve immediately.
ON THE MENU:
Pohole Fern Salad, this page Lomi Salmon,
this page Haupia, this page
CHAR SIU PORK
If you take a walk through
Chinatown on O‘ahu, you might be drawn to the rainbow of exotic produce,
expertly stacked in perfect lines, or the row of lei and flower shops, but I
find myself gravitating toward the windows filled with glistening roast duck
and shiny red char siu (Chinese roast pork). The smell is intoxicating; it’s
hard not to let your nose lead you there. While absolutely capable of standing
alone as a meal, you will often find char siu stuffed in buns (Manapua, this page), topping noodle dishes like Saimin (this page) and Somen Salad (this page),
or added to fried rice. If you’ve built up your Hawai‘i pantry (see “Building
Your Pantry,” this page), you should have
everything you need, with exception of one key ingredient: hoisin. Hoisin is a
thick, dark sauce that’s packed with a range of flavors such as ginger,
cinnamon, garlic, soy, and sesame. It’s delicious. My favorite brand is Lee Kum
Kee, and you can find it the Asian foods section of most grocery stores. A note
about the char siu’s red color: While it’s typical, it’s not necessary and
doesn’t add anything but that—color.
Serves 6 to 8; recipe can be halved
pounds pork butt, cut into
1½-inch-wide strips 1 tablespoon Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
1 cup packed brown sugar
⅓cup mild honey
1½ teaspoons Chinese
five-spice powder ¼ cup hoisin sauce
3 tablespoons whiskey
¾ teaspoon red gel food
coloring, or 1½ teaspoons red liquid food coloring (optional)
Rub the pork butt strips with the salt and place in a wide rimmed
pan or in a gallon-size ziplock bag. In a small bowl, combine the brown
sugar, honey, five-spice powder, hoisin, whiskey, and red food
coloring (if using) to make a marinade. Whisk together until well combined.
Reser ve one-third in a bowl covered with plastic wrap for basting the next
day. Pour the remaining marinade over the pork strips and gently rub with your
hands to evenly coat them. Cover the pan with plastic wrap or zip up the bag.
Transfer both the reserved marinade and the pork strips to the refrigerator
overnight.
The next day, preheat the oven to 350°F. Fit a roasting pan with a
rack that is at least 2 inches tall. Fill the pan with a ¼ inch of water. Lay
the pork strips on the rack and roast for 20 minutes. Flip all of the strips
over and baste with some of the reserved marinade. Roast for another 20
minutes. Flip all of the strips one more time and baste again before roasting
for another 20 minutes. The pork should be just cooked through and still moist
at the center. Transfer the strips to a wire rack set in a rimmed baking sheet
to cool a bit. The pork can be ser ved immediately or cooled completely before
using for another recipe.
ON THE MENU: Fried Wontons, this page
Kim Chee, this page Gau, this page
SPAM FRIED RICE
I’m not really a leftovers
person. There, I said it—and to be clear, it’s not that I don’t eat them. I’d
just rather eat something new every night. However, if fried rice is ever on
the table, I am almost always the first one to dive into it. To me, it’s one of
the best ways to enjoy leftovers because it makes them new again. Forgotten
veggies, day-old rice, and leftover meats are all fair game. And this version,
the Spam version, is great if you haven’t got any leftover meat on hand. Every culture—
scratch that—every household has its own take on the ultimate fried rice, but
this is the one I grew up with. If you’re a fried rice purist and believe it
should be just carrots, onions, and Spam, stick to this recipe. If you’re more
adventurous, add whatever you’ve got on hand, like frozen peas, chopped chicken
or steak, or even the green beans you made the other night. I highly recommend
serving this with a fried egg on top and maybe even a dollop of ketchup or
sriracha sauce. People have been known to add mayo, which isn’t anything I’ve
tried, but to each their own.
Serves 4 to 6
cups day-old cooked
short-grain rice, at room temperature 1 tablespoon sesame oil
Neutral oil, for fr ying
Half 12-ounce can Spam Less
Sodium, cut into ⅛by 1-inch
matchsticks 1 cup finely diced carrots (about 1½ carrots)
1 cup finely diced Maui or
yellow onion (about ½ onion) Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 cup chopped green onions,
white and green parts (about 4 green onions) 1 teaspoon very finely grated
garlic (about 2 cloves)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
(shoyu)
1 tablespoon oyster sauce 1
teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
large eggs, lightly beaten
4 to 6 fried eggs, for
serving (optional)
In a bowl, combine the rice and sesame oil, toss to coat, and set
aside.
Set a wide pan or wok over medium heat and coat the bottom with 1
to 2 teaspoons neutral oil. Fr y the Spam for a minute on each side, or until
all sides are lightly crisped and brown. Transfer the Spam to a small bowl and
set aside.
Turn the heat to medium-low and coat the bottom of the pan with 1
to 2 tablespoons neutral oil. Once the oil is shimmering and hot, add the
carrots and Maui onion and stir-fry with a wooden spoon or spatula until mostly
translucent, 4 to 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper before increasing the
heat to medium. Add ½ cup of the green onions and cook for another minute to
soften them. Add the rice, garlic, soy sauce, oyster sauce, Worcestershire sauce,
and Spam, mixing and breaking up the rice with the spoon. Stir-fr y until the
rice is hot and has absorbed all of the liquids, 4 to 5 minutes. Taste and add
more salt and pepper, if needed.
Create a well in the middle of the rice and pour in the eggs. Let
sit for 30 seconds before scrambling the mixture, using the wooden spoon, for
another 30 seconds. Let sit for 30 seconds more, then scramble again, this time
bringing in the walls of rice and incorporating them into the eggs. Repeat this
process until the eggs have been thoroughly scrambled and incorporated. Turn
off the heat, leaving the pan to sit until you are ready to ser ve. Sprinkle
with the remaining ½ cup green onions and ser ve, topping each ser ving wit a
fried egg, if desired.
ON THE MENU:
Takuan, this page
Side salad with Guava Dressing, this page
Guava Cake, this page
SOY-GLAZED SPAM MUSUBI
It’s true: people from
Hawai’i consume more Spam than the rest of the United States of America. Locals
developed a taste for it during World War II and never lost it. It’s endured
for decades due to its salty flavor, versatility, and, partly, nostalgia and
pride. If you’ve never had it, it’s essentially a very salty, compressed ham
that, yes, comes in a can. It’s packaged similarly to gefilte fish, with that
same clear, gelatinous fluid. And it’s delicious.
We add it to our fried rice,
saimin, and cold somen salads and serve it for breakfast with eggs and rice.
But the most iconic way we dish it up is in this very portable musubi form.
It’s a play on the Japanese omusubi and onigiri, which are both basically a
ball of rice wrapped in nori. You can find it at the local 7-Eleven,
mom-and-pop shops, and local diners, but it’s best when it’s freshly made.
Whether you keep it simple and fry it without a glaze, sandwich it in between
two mounds of rice instead of stacking it atop one mound, cover it with a wide
or narrow strip of nori, or even add a strip of fried egg to it, the truth
remains that this is a must-try. And if Spam is not your jam, you can always
substitute a piece of Mochiko Chicken (this page), a
tonkatsu steak, or even some Teriyaki Beef Sticks (this page). Spam musubi maker molds can be purchased from Amazon.
Makes 8 musubi
tablespoons soy sauce (shoyu)
2 tablespoons light brown sugar ½ teaspoon mirin (optional) 1 to 2 teaspoons
neutral oil
One 12-ounce can Spam Less
Sodium, cut horizontally into 8 slices 3 sheets roasted sushi nori, cut into
thirds crosswise
teaspoons furikake (see this page) 5 to 6 cups cooked short-grain rice
In a small bowl, whisk the soy sauce, brown sugar, and mirin (if
using) together. Set aside.
Lightly coat the bottom of a large skillet with the oil and heat
over medium heat. Fr y the Spam slices until evenly browned and crispy, 2 to 3
minutes on each side. Turn the heat to low for the last minute of cooking, then
turn off the heat. Pour in the soy mixture and quickly turn the Spam slices to
evenly coat them. The mixture will cook down in less than a minute, so don’t
walk away for this part or your glaze may burn. Immediately transfer the Spam
slices, with glaze, to a plate.
Place a strip of nori, rough side up, on a cutting board or clean
work surface. Place the Spam musubi maker mold over it, in the middle, then
place a slice of Spam in the mold. Alternatively, if you don’t have a mold, you
can line a cleaned Spam can with plastic wrap instead. Sprinkle ¼ teaspoon
furikake over the Spam, then fill the mold with a generous mound of rice. Press
the rice firmly with the musubi maker press until it is ¾ to 1 inch thick,
adding more rice as necessar y. Use the press to hold the rice down with one
hand and pull the mold upward to unmold the musubi with your other hand. If
you’re using the Spam can, simply pull the plastic wrap from the can to unmold.
Wrap the nori around the Spam-rice stack, bringing both ends of the strip to
the middle, folding one over the other, and flipping it over so the seam is
down and the Spam is facing up. Repeat with remaining ingredients. Ser ve
immediately or wrap with plastic wrap to take with you on the go.
ON THE MENU:
Boiled Peanuts, this page Manapua, this
page
Pickled Mango, this page
PORK VINHA D’ALHOS
Say “ving-a-dosh”! My
boyfriend’s mother makes this dish, Portuguese pickled pork, every Easter
Sunday, Christmas, and New Year’s Day for breakfast. Her recipe was passed down
orally by her mother, and her mother’s mother passed it down the same way. Up
until recently, they had never written it out! While I’ve taken some liberties,
the heart of the recipe is hers. Serve this with a fried egg, steamed white
rice, and some Pickled Onion (this page).
Serves 4 to 6
teaspoons Hawaiian salt
(‘alaea) 5 garlic cloves, peeled and finely grated
2 pounds pork butt, with fat
cap, cut into 2-inch cubes with fat on 1 cup apple cider vinegar
2 cups water
1 tablespoon whole black
peppercorns 2 bay leaves
2 Hawaiian chili peppers
(nīoi), thinly sliced 2 russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 2-inch cubes
Neutral oil, for fr ying
Flaky salt and freshly ground
black pepper
Massage the salt and grated garlic into the pork butt cubes. In a
large bowl or a gallon-size freezer ziplock bag, combine the pork with the
vinegar, water, peppercorns, bay leaves, and chili peppers. Cover the bowl with
plastic wrap or seal the ziplock bag and transfer to the refrigerator to
marinate overnight. In the morning, stir gently or flip the bag before stirring
in the potatoes. Return to the refrigerator to marinate for at least 3 hours,
or until you are ready to cook.
Line a rimmed baking sheet with paper towels and set aside. In a
large pot, bring the pork and marinade to a boil over high heat, reser ving the
potatoes. When the liquid comes to a boil, skim off any scum that floats to the
surface with a skimmer or slotted spoon, turn the heat to low, and cover the
pot with a lid. Simmer for 30 minutes, skimming the scum off the top as needed.
Add the potatoes and continue to simmer, with the lid on, for another 30 minutes.
Remove the pork and potatoes from the liquid with a slotted spoon, placing them
on the paper towel-lined rimmed baking sheet.
Line a large plate with paper towels and set aside. In a large
skillet, heat enough oil to coat the bottom over medium-high heat. When the oil
is shiny and shimmering, crisp the pork and potatoes, in batches, on all sides.
This goes quickly, and you should need only a minute or two on each side. The
pieces should be uniformly golden and crispy. Place the crisp, golden pieces on
the prepared plate and immediately season with flaky salt and black pepper to
taste. Repeat until ever ything has been panfried. Ser ve immediately.
ON THE MENU:
Pickled Onion, this page
Side salad with Papaya Seed Dressing,
this page Pie Crust Manju, this page
PORK AND PEAS
Pork guisantes, or pork and
peas, is a simple yet hearty dish that’s usually made by stewing pork, peas,
and bell peppers in tomato sauce. It comes together quickly and is well
balanced with warm notes of cinnamon, bright and tangy flavors, and a touch of
soy. This is a great weeknight meal and tastes even better when it’s reheated
the next day.
Serves 4 to 6
½ pounds pork butt, with fat
cap 1 teaspoon neutral oil
1 small Maui onion, peeled
and sliced into ½-inch wedges 2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely minced
½ red bell pepper, seeded and
cut into ½-inch-wide strips ½ teaspoon Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
1 teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper
1 tablespoon cane vinegar,
coconut vinegar, or apple cider vinegar 1 tablespoon soy sauce (shoyu)
One 15-ounce can tomato sauce
2 vine-ripened tomatoes,
seeded and diced into ½-inch cubes 2 bay leaves
1 cinnamon stick 1 cup frozen
peas
3 cups steamed rice, for
serving
Trim the fat cap from the pork, cut the cap into a couple pieces,
and set aside. Slice the lean pork meat into 1 by 1½ by ½-inch strips.
In a large skillet over medium heat, cook the trimmed pork fat
until golden brown and the fat has rendered, 3 to 4 minutes on each side.
Remove the fat cap pieces from the pan and discard. Add the oil to the pan and
heat over medium heat until shiny, then add the onion
and turn the heat to medium-low. Sauté until the onion has
softened and is nearly translucent, 4 to 5 minutes. Add the lean pork strips,
garlic, and bell pepper and cook until the pork is browned on both sides,
another 5 to 6 minutes. Season with the salt and black pepper. Add the vinegar
and soy sauce and cook for 2 minutes, stirring often, before adding the tomato
sauce, tomatoes, bay leaves, and cinnamon stick. Simmer on low heat until the
pork is tender, about 45 minutes. You can test this by sticking a fork in it;
if the fork can be easily inserted, it’s done.
Remove the cinnamon stick and bay leaves. Stir in the frozen peas
and cook until they are heated through, another minute or two. Serve with
steamed rice.
ON THE MENU:
Side salad with Creamy Asian Dressing,
this page Lumpia, this page
Cascaron, this page
PORTUGUESE BEAN SOUP
My boyfriend, Moses, comes from
a big Hawaiian family on both sides. His mom’s side is Hawaiian Portuguese and
they have carried on the family’s culinary traditions. Growing up, his parents
would make a huge pot of soup, and everyone would eat it over the course of the
next few days for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, but always with lots of white
rice.
On the surface, this soup may
appear humble and unassuming, but it’s meaty and hearty, loaded with spices,
herbs, and, yes, a touch of ketchup, which Moses says is the secret ingredient.
Most recipes call for cabbage, but I prefer the toothsome bite and brightness
that kale adds to the soup. Cooked low and slow, this soup is made for cold
days and family meals.
Serves 6 to 8
½ to 2 pounds smoked pork
shanks One 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes One 8-ounce can tomato sauce
2 tablespoons ketchup,
(preferably Heinz) 4 or 5 garlic cloves, peeled and finely grated 2 teaspoons
portuguese spice blend (see this page) Kosher salt and freshly
ground black pepper
3 or 4 carrots, peeled and
sliced crosswise into ¼-inch-thick rounds 3 or 4 celery stalks, sliced thinly
at an angle
1 Maui onion, diced
2 russet potatoes, peeled and
cut into ¾-inch cubes
One 5-ounce Portuguese
sausage, thinly sliced, or 5 ounces cooked Portuguese Sausage Patties (this page), broken into bite-size pieces
Two 15-ounce cans red kidney
beans, drained 1 cup coarsely chopped fresh cilantro
1 bunch dinosaur or lacinto
kale, tough stems removed, cut into chiffonade (thin ribbons)
In a large pot, cover the smoked pork shanks with water by 1 inch.
Bring the water to a boil over high heat. Cover with a lid, turn the heat to
low, and simmer for 2 hours. Be sure to skim off the foam as needed. Add the
tomatoes, tomato sauce, ketchup, garlic, spice blend, salt and pepper to taste,
carrots, celery, onion, and potatoes and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
Turn the heat to low, cover, and simmer for another hour. Taste the soup and
adjust the seasoning as desired.
In a skillet, over medium heat, fry the Portuguese sausage for 3
to 4 minutes, until browned. Add the fried sausage, kidney beans, cilantro, and
kale to the soup and cook for 10 minutes more. Ladle the soup into bowls and
serve. Store any leftovers covered in the pot, or in an airtight container, in
the refrigerator for up to 3 days.
ON THE MENU:
Cornbread, this page Pohole Fern Salad,
this page Haupia, this page
CHICKEN
(Moa)
This chapter is a great place
to trace your way through the multifaceted fabric of Hawai‘i’s local food culture. From
braised Chicken Adobo (this
page) and Shoyu Chicken (this page) to fried Chicken Katsu (this page), it’s easy to taste the many different cooking methods
that came over to the islands so many years ago.
MOCHIKO CHICKEN
There’s nothing quite like
fried chicken. It’s crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside, and, when done
right, packed with flavor. I think it’s safe to say that most places have their
own version, and Hawai’i is no exception. This sweet rice flour-battered
chicken is perfectly crunchy, salty-sweet, and highly addictive. It’s one of my
all-time favorite dishes, and I’m taken back to my childhood every single time
I have it. While I believe it’s best served warm with onigiri (aka
triangle-shaped musubi), Namasu (this page), and
Takuan (this page), the way my mom serves it,
it’s equally great cold, chopped up, and tossed into a green salad with Creamy
Asian Dressing (this page) or atop a bed of
cold somen noodles.
Serves 6 to 8
pounds boneless, skinless
chicken thighs ¼ cup mochiko flour (see this page) ¼ cup
cornstarch
¼ cup sugar
¼ cup soy sauce (shoyu) ½
teaspoon kosher salt 2 large eggs, beaten
¼ cup chopped green onions,
both white and green parts (about 4 green onions), plus more for garnish
Neutral oil, for fr ying
2 garlic cloves, peeled and
extra finely grated 3 to 4 sheets nori, cut into 1-inch wide strips (optional)
3 cups steamed rice, for serving
Cut the chicken thighs into 2-inch-long strips and place them in a
bowl. In a small bowl, combine the mochiko, cornstarch, sugar, soy
sauce, salt, eggs, green onions, and garlic, and whisk until fully
combined. Pour the batter mixture over the chicken and mix to coat evenly.
Marinate
in the refrigerator for at
least 5 hours, preferably overnight.
Line a baking sheet with paper towels or newspaper and place a
wire rack on top. Fill a Dutch oven or high-sided pot with oil to a depth of 2
inches and heat over medium-low heat to 330° to 340°F. Remove the chicken from
the bowl and wrap each piece with a strip of nori (if using).
Without crowding the pot, add as many pieces of chicken as you can
to the hot oil; the temperature will drop to between 315° and 325°F when you
add the chicken. Fr y the chicken for 6 to 7 minutes, turning with a skimmer or
long chopsticks to brown evenly. The chicken will be golden brown when it’s
done and the internal temperature should be 165°F. Remove with a skimmer or
long chopsticks and let cool on the wire rack for 8 to 10 minutes. Continue
this process until all the chicken has been cooked. When ready to serve,
garnish with freshly chopped green onions and serve with rice.
ON THE MENU:
Namasu, this page
Dynamite Sauce, this page Ice Cake, this
page
SHOYU CHICKEN
One of my favorite plate
lunch options, shoyu chicken will forever hold a special place in my heart
because it reminds me of my uncle Johnson and aunty Vicki, owners of Surfside
Deli in Kīhei, Maui. (It is a common sign of respect in Hawai‘i to call elders
“aunty” or “uncle”; we’re not actually related.) Surfside is a local-style
deli, meaning they do not serve lox and bagels and are not known for their
sandwiches, instead serving up plate lunches to surfers, construction workers,
and anyone who happens to be nearby and hungry! Shoyu chicken is their
numberone seller, and for that reason, I cannot think about this perfectly
balanced sweet, salty, umami-packed chicken without thinking of Uncle Johnson
and Aunty Vicki.
In addition to rice, serve
this with Mac Salad (this
page) and some pickles, like Takuan (this page), if desired.
Serves 4 to 6
¾ cup soy sauce (shoyu) 1½
cups water
2 tablespoons honey
½ cup packed dark brown sugar
One 2-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and thinly sliced 2 or 3 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
2 pounds bone-in, skin-on
chicken thighs ½ Maui onion, peeled and cut into ¾-inch wedges 2 or 3 green
onions, white and green parts, cut into 2-inch pieces 1½ tablespoons cornstarch
3 cups steamed rice, for
serving
In a heavy Dutch oven or pot, mix the soy sauce, water, honey,
brown sugar, ginger, and garlic together. Nestle the chicken thighs in the
sauce, skin side up, submerging the meat as much as possible. Bring the mixture
to a boil over medium-high heat. When the sauce comes to a boil, add the Maui
onion wedges and green onion pieces and turn the heat to medium-low. Cover the
pot with a lid and let simmer for 30 minutes. Using a pair of kitchen tongs,
gently turn all the chicken pieces over. Cover the pot again and simmer for
another 30 minutes. Check the tenderness of the meat with a fork; if you can
easily insert the fork into the meat, the chicken is done. Remove the cooked
thighs from the sauce, reser ving it, and place them on a rimmed baking sheet.
Preheat the broiler.
In a small bowl, whisk the cornstarch with ¼ cup of the sauce
until smooth, then add the cornstarch mixture back to the pot with the
remaining sauce and cook over medium-low for 4 to 5 minutes, until the sauce
has thickened. Broil the chicken thighs for a minute or two, watching carefully
to make sure you do not burn the skin. The goal is to just quickly brown the
skin.
Ser ve the chicken with the thickened sauce and rice.
ON THE MENU:
Takuan, this page
Side salad with Creamy Asian Dressing,
this page Macadamia Nut Cream Pie, this page
CHICKEN JOOK
Sometimes called congee or
rice porridge, jook is a soup that Chinese plantation workers introduced to the
islands. Often made these days with turkey following Thanksgiving, jook is a
comforting dish that’s great for cold winter nights, rainy days, or when you’re
feeling under the weather. I make it whenever I have roasted a chicken or pick
up a rotisserie chicken from the store.
Serves 4 to 6
small rotisserie chicken
carcass and any leftover meat One 2-inch piece fresh ginger, thinly sliced 4
garlic cloves, peeled and smashed ½ Maui onion, unpeeled
4½ quarts water
2 cups uncooked short-grain
rice Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
Fried garlic, for serving
Crispy fried onions, for ser ving
Coarsely chopped fresh
cilantro, for ser ving
Thinly sliced green onions,
white and green parts, for ser ving Soy sauce (shoyu), for ser ving
Sriracha, for serving
In a large stockpot, cover the chicken carcass, ginger, garlic,
and onion with the water and bring to a boil over high heat. Turn the heat to
low and simmer for 2 hours, covering with the lid after 1 hour. Remove and
discard the carcass, reser ving any pieces of meat, and strain the stock
through a fine-mesh sieve into another large stockpot.
Set the stock over high heat and add the rice and reser ved meat.
Bring it to a boil, then turn the heat to medium-low and simmer for 15
minutes, stirring often. Turn the heat to low and simmer for 1½
hours, stirring every 10 to 15 minutes to prevent the rice from sticking to the
bottom. Taste the jook and season with Hawaiian salt. The jook is ready when
the rice is broken down and the soup is thickened. It should resemble porridge
or oatmeal.
Ladle the jook into bowls and top with fried garlic, crispy fried
onions, cilantro, green onions, soy sauce, and sriracha, all to taste, before
ser ving.
ON THE MENU: Takuan, this page
Pickled Onion, this page Ice Cake, this
page
CHICKEN ADOBO
I like to think of chicken
adobo, one of the best-known Filipino dishes, as the Filipino cousin of Shoyu
Chicken (this
page). Both are braised, well balanced, and packed
with flavor; however, chicken adobo is marked by its tanginess, while shoyu
chicken’s flavor is decidedly sweeter. Whether or not you agree with me, I
think we can all acknowledge chicken adobo is delicious. While not exactly
traditional, thanks to the added beer, this is my take on the unofficial
national dish of the Philippines. You can substitute pork butt for the chicken;
simply cut the pork into 2-inch cubes.
Serves 6 to 8
bay leaves
4 teaspoons whole black
peppercorns 1 tablespoon neutral oil
1½ pounds bone-in, skin-on
chicken thighs 1½ pounds skin-on chicken wings or drumettes ½ cup cane vinegar,
coconut vinegar, or apple cider vinegar ½ cup soy sauce (shoyu)
½ cup lager beer
1 tablespoon brown sugar
5 garlic cloves, peeled and
smashed 3 cups steamed rice, for serving (optional)
In a medium Dutch oven or pot set over medium heat, toast the bay
leaves and the black peppercorns until ever ything is ver y fragrant and the
bay leaves have a sheen (they start out dull), 3 to 4 minutes. Remove the
spices from the heat. Crush three-quarters of the black peppercorns with a mortar
and pestle or a grinder before setting them aside with the remaining
peppercorns and bay leaves to use later. Return the Dutch oven to the stove top
and add the oil. Heat
over medium heat until shiny and shimmering, add as much chicken
as will fit, and brown it in batches, skin side down, until the fat has
rendered and the skin is golden brown, 6 to 8 minutes. Wiggle the pieces around
from time to time to prevent their skin from sticking. There’s no need to flip
them midway as you are only browning the skin side of the thighs and one side
of the wings. Transfer the browned chicken to a plate and repeat the process
until all the chicken has been browned. After you’ve browned it all, remove the
pot from the heat and pour out the excess oil and rendered fat, reser ving 1
tablespoon for the sauce.
Return the pot to the stove top with the reser ved tablespoon of
rendered fat and add the vinegar, soy sauce, beer, brown sugar, garlic, and the
toasted bay leaves and black peppercorns. Cook over low heat for 2 minutes,
stirring with a wooden spoon to combine. Add the chicken and any juices back to
the pot and increase the heat to medium-high to bring the sauce to a low boil.
Then turn the heat to medium-low, cover the pot with a lid, and simmer for 45
minutes, flipping the chicken once halfway through. Remove the lid and continue
simmering for another 15 minutes. Remove the chicken from the sauce and place
it, skin side up, on a rimmed baking sheet.
Turn the heat up to high and let the sauce cook at a rapid boil
until it has been reduced by more than half, 5 to 6 minutes.
Meanwhile, preheat the broiler. Broil the chicken pieces for 5
minutes. Remove the chicken from the oven and return the chicken pieces back to
the pot, flipping them once to coat both sides with sauce. Ser ve with the hot
rice, if desired, spooning on some of the sauce.
ON THE MENU:
Namasu, this page
Side salad with Guava Dressing, this page
Double-Chocolate Haupia Pie, this page
LOCAL-STYLE BBQ CHICKEN
Come fund-raising season,
you’ll start to see a lot of people selling tickets for huli huli chicken. Huli
huli, which translates to “turn turn,” is a local-style barbecue chicken that
is grilled and basted on a spit. The sweet marinade burns a bit, so I recommend
you grill outside to avoid smoking up your house and setting off the fire
alarms!
Serves 6 to 8
½ cup ketchup
½ cup soy sauce (shoyu) ½ cup
packed brown sugar ¼ cup rice vinegar
One 1-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and finely grated 2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely grated
3 pounds boneless, skinless
chicken thighs
In a large bowl, whisk together the ketchup, soy sauce, brown
sugar, rice vinegar, ginger, and garlic until well combined. Reser ve ⅓cup of the mixture for later. To the remaining
mixture, add the chicken and stir to evenly coat it. You can transfer this
mixture with the chicken to a gallon-size ziplock bag or simply cover the bowl
with plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least 8 hours or overnight, turning the
chicken at least once.
After marinating the chicken, oil your grill grates well. Heat the
grill to medium and grill the chicken for 5 to 7 minutes on each side, until
cooked through, basting it with the reser ved marinade after you turn it. Ser
ve immediately.
ON THE MENU: Namasu, this page
Mac Salad, this page Butter Mochi, this
page
CHICKEN KATSU
When I was in elementary
school, one of my best friends was Kira, my next-door neighbor. Her dad, Uncle
Milton, made the best chicken katsu, and I remember crossing my fingers that
he’d make us lunch when we played at her house on the weekends or during the
summer. What I loved about it was that garlicky flavor, which I now know was
from garlic salt. I made my own using a combination of kosher salt and
granulated garlic. This panko-crusted chicken is a popular plate-lunch item and
is found at most restaurants, but I’m telling you, they’re missing the secret
ingredient!
Serves 4 to 6
Katsu Sauce
½ cup ketchup
3 tablespoons Worcestershire
sauce 1 tablespoon soy sauce (shoyu) 1 tablespoon mirin
2 teaspoons sugar Pinch of
garlic powder
¾ pound boneless, skinless
chicken breasts, halved and pounded to ¼-inch thickness ¾ teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper ⅛teaspoon granulated garlic
¼ cup all-purpose flour 2
large eggs, beaten
1½ to 2 cups panko bread
crumbs Neutral oil, for fr ying
To make the katsu sauce, whisk together the ketchup,
Worcestershire sauce, soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and garlic powder in a small
bowl
until the sugar has dissolved. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap
and store
in the refrigerator until
ready to use.
Evenly season the chicken breasts on both sides with the salt,
pepper, and garlic. Place the flour, eggs, and panko into three separate
shallow dishes. Coat the chicken breasts in the flour, shaking off any excess
flour. Next, dip them into the eggs, allowing any excess to drip off before
pressing them into the panko, coating both sides well. Place the pieces on a
plate.
Line a plate with paper towels and set aside. In a large skillet,
heat ¼ inch of oil over medium heat until it’s shiny. Working in batches, cook
the chicken in the hot oil until golden, 3 to 4 minutes on each side. Set on
the paper towel-lined plate to drain. Repeat until all the chicken has been
fried. Serve immediately with the katsu sauce.
ON THE MENU:
Takuan, this page
Namasu, this page Guava Cake, this page
BEEF
(Pipi)
From soups to stews to
patties smothered in gravy, local Hawaiians have found many ways to cook with
beef. If you’ve walked through any Hawai‘i beach park, you’ll be familiar with the sweet
smell of Maui-Style Kalbi Short Ribs (this page) charring on the grill. And
if you’ve been to a local potluck, you know why Beef Chili (this page) is a
must.
LOCO MOCO
The great debate on the Big
Island of Hawai‘i is who invented the loco moco. Some will tell you that
Lincoln Grill was the first to make it; others will swear it was Café 100.
Legend has it that a bunch of teenagers nicknamed it “loco moco” after a guy
they called “Crazy George.” So what is it? Loco moco is similar to a Japanese
dish called hambāgu, or hamburger steak, which consists of a panfried
ground-meat patty served with a tangy-sweet sauce and white rice. The loco moco
takes this one step further, throwing the patty over rice, then smothering it
in a brown gravy and topping it with a sunny-side up egg.
This is a breakfast, lunch,
or dinner kind of dish. In Hawai‘i, you can order it at any time of day, and
it’s an epic hangover or late-night meal (not that I’d know). So if you’ve got
the midnight munchies, or simply want a hearty breakfast, lunch, or dinner, get
to work! George’s loco moco awaits you.
Serves 4
pound 80/20 or 85/15 ground
beef 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more as needed
½ teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper, plus more as needed 3 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 medium Maui or yellow
onion; ¼ chopped, and
¾ sliced
into ½-inch wedges 2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely grated
2½ tablespoons neutral oil
8 ounces cremini mushrooms,
cleaned and sliced Salt and freshly ground black pepper 2 cups beef broth
2 teaspoons soy sauce (shoyu)
1 tablespoon cornstarch 4 cups steamed white rice
large eggs, fried sunny-side
up or over easy 2 chopped green onions, green parts only, for garnish
In a bowl combine the ground beef, salt, pepper, 1½ teaspoons of
the Worcestershire sauce, chopped onion, and garlic. Gently mix with your hands
or a wooden spoon until just combined, being careful not to overmix. Form into
four equal-size patties about ½ inch thick. Place the patties on a plate, cover
with plastic wrap, and transfer to the refrigerator to rest for 20 minutes.
While the patties are resting, add 1 tablespoon of the oil to a
large skillet set over medium heat. When the oil is hot (shiny and shimmering),
add the onion wedges and sauté until almost translucent, 5 to 7 minutes. Turn
the heat to low and continue cooking for 10 minutes, stirring often. Cook until
they are soft and caramelized; you should be able to smell the sugar. Transfer
to a bowl and set aside.
Add another 1 tablespoon of the oil to the skillet and set it over
medium heat. When the oil is hot, swirl the pan around to evenly coat it, then
gently place the patties in the pan, leaving room around each one. Cook until
browned, about 4 minutes on each side. Using a spatula, remove the patties and
transfer to a clean plate to rest.
Add the remaining ½ tablespoon oil to the pan and heat over medium
heat until hot. Add the mushrooms and sauté until tender, about 10 minutes.
Season the mushrooms with salt and pepper, then add the reserved caramelized
onions. Add the beef broth, soy sauce, and the remaining 1½ teaspoons
Worcestershire sauce and bring to a simmer. Turn the heat to medium-low, scoop
out a tablespoon of the broth from the skillet, and whisk it with the
cornstarch in a small bowl until smooth. Whisk the cornstarch slurr y into the
skillet and simmer until the sauce has thickened, 5 to 7 minutes.
Place 1 cup steamed rice on each plate and top (in this order)
with 1 patty, some gravy, 1 fried egg, and chopped green onions before ser
ving.
ON THE MENU: Mac Salad, this page
Side salad with Papaya Seed Dressing,
this page Butter Mochi, this page
OXTAIL SOUP
You probably wouldn’t guess
it, but Hawai‘i is one of the nation’s top consumers of oxtails. You can get
oxtail soup in restaurants all over the islands, but the dipping sauce from the
Alley Restaurant in Aiea Bowl on the island of O‘ahu is the one I dream
about—and it was featured on Guy Fieri’s Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. Plan
ahead when making this soup, as it requires 2 days’ time.
Serves 4 to 6
to 5 pounds oxtail 4 cups
beef broth 2 cups chicken broth 3 whole star anise
One 2-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and thinly sliced 6 dried shiitake mushrooms
4 pieces dried mandarin peel
(from 1 orange; see Note) 1 tablespoon Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
1 cup raw peanuts, skinned
Sauce
¼ cup peeled and grated fresh
ginger, drained
½ cup peeled and finely
grated daikon radish (solids and juice) ⅓cup light
soy sauce (shoyu)
¼ cup fresh lemon juice ½
teaspoon sesame oil 1½ teaspoons sambal oelek
To Serve
bunch fresh cilantro, leaves
and stems, coarsely chopped 1 bunch green onions, white and green parts,
chopped 8 to 10 baby bok choy, blanched and flashed in cold water ½ head napa
cabbage (won bok), shredded
cups steamed rice
Fill a large pot halfway with water and bring to a boil. Cut the
oxtails into segments and parboil for 30 minutes. Drain the oxtails and rinse
in water to remove any scum. Let cool slightly before using a sharp knife to
trim away all excess fat.
Return the cleaned and trimmed oxtails to the pot and add the beef
and chicken broths. Add water to cover the oxtails by 2 inches. Add the star
anise, ginger, mushrooms, mandarin peel, and salt and bring to a boil over high
heat. Turn the heat to medium, cover, and simmer for 2 hours.
Skim any scum off the top, add the peanuts, cover, and continue to
simmer for another 2 hours. The oxtail meat should be tender and falling off
the bone after 4 hours total. If it isn’t, continue boiling, with the lid on,
until it is. At this point, remove the pot from the heat and let the soup cool
to room temperature. Transfer to the refrigerator to chill overnight. This does
two things: it allows the fat to float to the top and solidify, and it gives
the aromatics a chance to infuse the broth and oxtails.
In the morning, or an hour before you’re ready to serve, remove
the pot from the refrigerator and skim off the solidified fat. Heat the pot of
soup, with the lid on, over medium heat until it comes to a moderate boil. If
desired, remove the shiitake mushrooms from the soup and remove the stems with
a sharp knife. Slice the mushrooms thinly and return to the soup.
To make the sauce, meanwhile combine the ginger, daikon, soy
sauce, lemon juice, sesame oil, and sambal oelek in a small bowl. Be sure to
taste it and adjust the flavors to your liking.
To ser ve, ladle the oxtails and broth into large bowls. Garnish
the bowls with cilantro, green onions, baby bok choy, and napa
cabbage (or any other toppings you’d prefer). Serve with
individual bowls of hot white rice and individual bowls of the sauce, which can
be used to dip the meat into or poured right into the broth!
Note: To make dried mandarin peel, score an organic mandarin
orange into quarters, remove the peel, and use a sharp paring knife to separate
the peel from the white pith. Set out the peel to dry in a sunny spot for 1
week before using. Alternatively, peels can be placed on a rimmed baking sheet
and dried in an oven set to the lowest temperature for 3 hours, until curled
and dried. Any type of mandarin, including tangerines, satsumas, and the like,
can be used.
ON THE MENU:
Fried Wontons, this page Pickled Onion,
this page Lilikoʻi Chiffon Pie, this page
TERIYAKI BEEF STICKS
My childhood field trips
usually included these sticks. Tucked away in layers of foil, cuddled up next
to salty triangle musubi, and packed with a pouch of Capri Sun, my lunches were
always the envy of my class. Beef teriyaki is a staple of the plate-lunch menu
in Hawai‘i, as it is very versatile (you can broil, panfry, or grill it) and
takes almost no time to prepare. You simply whisk together a quick
five-ingredient marinade of soy sauce, sugar, mirin, garlic, and ginger. On any
given Sunday, you’ll smell it before you see it on the grill at every beach
park in the state and most certainly on every family potluck table.
While each family has its own
tip or trick or perfect ratio, this one is a good starting point for your own
recipe. Depending on the brand of soy sauce you use, there may be some trial
and error to find your preferred marinating time. Start with 4 to 5 hours and
fry up a little test batch. This is an especially good weeknight dish, as you
can prepare it the night before and quickly panfry it the next day. Whatever
you do, don’t forget the rice (possibly formed into a triangle musubi) and
pickled veggies, like Namasu (this page) or Takuan (this
page)!
Serves 4 to 6
cup soy sauce (shoyu) 1 cup
sugar
3 tablespoons mirin
4 garlic cloves, peeled and
finely minced or grated One 1½-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and finely
grated 1½ pounds flank steak, thinly sliced across the grain into long strips 3
cups steamed rice, for serving
In a bowl, whisk the soy sauce, sugar, mirin,
garlic, and ginger until combined. Add the meat and evenly coat with the
marinade. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and marinate the meat in the
refrigerator for 2 to 3 hours. Meanwhile, soak 8 bamboo skewers in water for at
least 1 hour before using, weighing them down with a heavy bowl.
Preheat the broiler.
Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil, dull side up, and spray
lightly with oil. Thread the meat onto the skewers and set them on the baking
sheet. Broil until the meat is browned and cooked through, 1 to 2 minutes on
each side.
Ser ve with steamed rice.
ON THE MENU: Pickled Onion, this page
Saimin, this page
Pie Crust Manju, this page
MAUI-STYLE KALBI SHORT RIBS
When I was a keiki (child),
there was a place on Maui called Azeka’s Ribs and Snack Shop, right down the
street from my go-to boogieboarding spot. I was never really that into
boogie-boarding (though it was the cool thing at the time), but I did have a
boogie board and we did go to this beach and pick up Azeka’s famous marinated kalbi
ribs afterward. Come to think of it, that’s probably the only real reason I
pretended to like boogie-boarding. For the ribs.
Sweet and tangy, these short
ribs are my rendition of the famous “sweet meat” from Azeka’s. While they can
be broiled in the oven, they are best cooked on the grill. Just be sure to keep
your eye on the grill, as this sweet meat can and will burn quickly if you’re
not watching it!
Serve with rice, sweet
potatoes, and/or Potato Mac Salad (this page). Serves 6 to 8; recipe can be halved
cups soy sauce (shoyu)
1¼ cups water
¾ cup rice vinegar 1
tablespoon sesame oil 1½ tablespoons fish sauce
3½ cups packed dark brown
sugar
One 4-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and finely grated 5 garlic cloves, peeled and finely grated
6 pounds bone-in beef short
ribs, ½-inch-thick flanken style (Korean or cross-cut), or 4 pounds boneless
beef short ribs, ½-inch thick flanken style (Korean or cross-cut)
Toasted white sesame seeds,
for garnish
A few green onions, white and
green parts, chopped, for garnish
In a bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, water, rice vinegar,
sesame oil, fish sauce, brown sugar, ginger, and garlic until well combined.
Divide the short ribs into two or three gallon-size ziplock bags and pour equal
parts of the marinade into each bag. Refrigerate for at least 8 hours, though
24 hours is recommended for optimal flavor. Turn the bags at least three times
during the marinating period.
Heat your grill to medium. Remove the ribs from the marinade and
cook them to your desired doneness, 4 to 5 minutes on each side for
medium-rare. If the ribs seem to be burning, adjust the heat to medium-low and
cook for a minute or two longer on each side. Alternatively, you can broil them
in the oven for 5 minutes on each side. Garnish the ribs with the toasted white
sesame seeds and chopped green onions before serving.
Note: You can freeze half of the marinated ribs and grill them
later; simply drain the marinade from the bag before freezing them.
ON THE MENU:
Kim Chee, this page
Side salad with Liliko‘i Vinaigrette,
this page Ice Cake, this page
MEAT JUN
There’s a spot in Honolulu,
O‘ahu, called Gina’s B-B-Q that I used to frequent in my early twenties more
often than I’d like to admit. It’s famous for Gina’s Special mixed plate, which
comes with kalbi short ribs, barbecue chicken, meat jun, three scoops of rice,
and four sides. It was under $15 and fed me for days. Back then, the thought
did not cross my mind to make my own meat jun; up until I met my boyfriend, I
hadn’t even tried. This recipe was adapted from his dad’s secret family recipe.
Serves 4 to 6
pounds round steak, chuck
steak, tri-tip steak, or flank steak ⅔cup packed
brown sugar
One 2-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and grated 2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely grated 3 green
onions, white and green parts, chopped 1 cup soy sauce (shoyu)
1 tablespoon toasted sesame
seeds, ground ¼ cup sesame oil
1 teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper
Dipping Sauce
¼
cup soy sauce (shoyu) 1 tablespoon gochujang 1 tablespoon rice vinegar 1½
tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon ground toasted
sesame seeds 1 teaspoon sesame oil
½ teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper 1 garlic clove, peeled and finely grated
One ½-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and finely grated 2 green onions, thinly sliced
cup all-purpose flour 5 large
eggs
Neutral oil, for fr ying
3 cups steamed rice, for
serving
Thinly cut the meat into ⅛-inch-thick slices and pound or tenderize them with a meat mallet
in all directions.
In a bowl, combine the brown sugar, ginger, garlic, green onions,
soy sauce, sesame seeds, sesame oil, and pepper and whisk together until well
combined. Transfer this marinade to a gallon-size ziplock bag and add the meat.
Transfer to the refrigerator and marinate the meat for 1 to 2 hours.
To make the dipping sauce, meanwhile, whisk together the soy
sauce, gochujang, rice vinegar, honey, sesame seeds, sesame oil, pepper,
garlic, ginger, and green onions in a small bowl.
Line a plate with paper towels and set aside. Place the flour in a
shallow dish or bowl and beat the eggs in a second shallow dish or bowl. Add
about ⅓cup (or ¼ inch) of neutral oil
to a large skillet and heat over medium-low heat until the oil is shiny and
shimmering. Drain the meat, discarding the marinade, and set the meat in a
dish. Working in batches, dredge the meat, one piece at a time, in the flour,
shaking off the excess, then dip it into the egg, letting the excess drip off
before placing each piece in the skillet. Fry until golden, 1 to 2 minutes on
each side. Set on the paper towel-lined plate to drain. Repeat until all the
meat has been fried.
Ser ve warm with the dipping sauce and steamed rice.
ON THE MENU:
Mandoo, this page
Kim Chee, this page
Shave Ice, this page
BEEF CURRY
There’s a saying in Hawai’i:
“No worry, beef curry.” It means “good to go, it’s in the bag, it’s all good,
garanz ball baranz,” or “garanz” for short. Basically, it means “guaranteed.”
And I can’t tell you why or how beef curry and no worry came together—other
than the fact that they rhyme—but I think it’s safe to say that it’s important
enough to merit mention. The curry in Hawai‘i is essentially Japanese. It’s
thick and stewlike and a little sweet like Japanese curry, but unlike
traditional Japanese curry, it’s loaded with meat, carrots, potatoes, onions,
and sometimes celery. While most families pick up bricks of curry roux in the
store, it doesn’t take much more time to make this curry from scratch. Be sure
to season with salt and pepper throughout the cooking process.
Serves 6 to 8
½ pounds beef chuck or other
stew meat, cut into 1½-inch cubes Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 tablespoons all-purpose
flour
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 large or 2 small Maui or
yellow onions, sliced into ½-inch wedges 3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely
grated
2 teaspoons peeled and finely
grated fresh ginger ⅔cup red wine
1 cup 100 percent apple juice
3 tablespoons ketchup
1 tablespoon honey
2 tablespoons soy sauce
(shoyu) 4 cups beef broth
3 carrots, peeled and sliced
on the bias
2 russet potatoes, peeled and
cut into 1½-inch cubes 4 celery stalks, sliced on the bias
2 teaspoons garam masala
½ tablespoons curr y powder ½
teaspoon instant espresso powder ¼ cup shredded Gouda
3 cups steamed rice, for
serving
Season the stew meat with salt and pepper. Toss the meat with 2
tablespoons of the all-purpose flour, coating all sides evenly.
In a large Dutch oven or pot, heat 2 tablespoons of the unsalted
butter over medium-high heat until it melts and just starts to sizzle. Add half
the stew meat to the pan and cook until browned on all sides, about 5 minutes
total. Remove the meat and set aside on a plate to rest. Add another 2 tablespoons
of the butter to the pan and brown the second half of the meat for about 5
minutes more. Transfer to the plate and set aside.
Turn the heat to medium-low and, in the same pot, add the
remaining 2 tablespoons butter and the onions and cook until the onions are
translucent and slightly caramelized, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic and
ginger and cook for 2 minutes. Add the red wine, apple juice, ketchup, honey,
soy sauce, and beef broth and bring to a simmer. Add the browned beef and
simmer for 30 minutes. Add the carrots, potatoes, and celery and simmer until
the beef and vegetables are tender, about 30 minutes more. Add the garam
masala, curr y powder, and instant espresso powder and stir well.
Remove ¼ cup of the sauce from the pan and whisk it with the
remaining 4 tablespoons flour before stirring it back into the pot. Cook for a
few minutes to thicken the sauce, then stir in the Gouda. Ser ve with rice.
ON THE MENU: Takuan, this page
Side salad with Guava Dressing, this page
Guava Cake, this page
BEEF STEW
This is a meal that was made
for Sundays. It cooks low and slow, and it yields a large amount. While it’s
absolutely acceptable to halve the recipe, I think you’ll find that you won’t
want to. Beef stew is almost always better the next day, especially when served
over steamed white rice or with cornbread.
Serves 8
½ pounds beef chuck or other
stew meat, cut into 2-inch cubes 1 teaspoon Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
Freshly ground black pepper 4
to 5 tablespoons all-purpose flour 2 tablespoons neutral oil
1 cup finely diced Maui or
yellow onion (½ onion), plus 1 Maui or yellow onion, sliced into ½inch wedges
½ cup finely chopped celer y
leaves (from about 1 head of celer y) 4 cups beef broth
One 8-ounce can tomato sauce
One 6-ounce can tomato paste 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce 2 teaspoons apple
cider vinegar 2 bay leaves (optional)
2 garlic cloves, peeled and
finely grated Kosher salt
4 carrots, peeled and sliced
on the bias into 1-inch-wide pieces 3 russet potatoes, peeled and cut into
1½-inch cubes 4 celery stalks, sliced on the bias into 1-inch-wide pieces 2
tablespoons mochiko flour (see this page)
3 cups steamed rice or 1
recipe Cornbread (this
page), for serving
In a shallow bowl or dish, season the meat with the Hawaiian salt
and 1 teaspoon pepper, then toss with 4 tablespoons of the allpurpose flour,
adding another tablespoon if necessar y, to evenly coat the meat.
Coat the bottom of a large, wide Dutch oven with the oil and heat
over medium heat until shimmering. Brown the meat in batches, turning the meat
to brown on all sides, and transfer to a plate when done. This should take 8 to
10 minutes per batch. Once all the meat has been browned, add it all to the
Dutch oven along with the diced onion and celer y leaves and cook for 5
minutes, stirring often. Stir in the beef broth, tomato sauce, tomato paste,
Worcestershire sauce, vinegar, bay leaves (if using), and garlic and bring to a
boil.
Cover and turn the heat to low; simmer until the meat is ver y
tender, 1½ to 2 hours. Taste and adjust the seasoning with kosher salt and
pepper as needed, add the carrots, and cook, with the lid on, for another hour.
Next, add the onion wedges, potatoes, and celery and cook, with the lid on,
until all the vegetables are tender, another 1 to 1½ hours. Taste the stew and
adjust the seasoning.
In a small bowl, whisk the mochiko with ½ cup of the stew broth to
make a slurr y. Stir the slurr y into the stew and cook, uncovered, for 10
minutes to cook the flour and thicken the stew. Ser ve with rice or cornbread.
ON THE MENU: Pickled Onion, this page
Gau, this page
Butter Mochi, this page
BEEF CHILI
Zippy’s chili is renowned in
the islands. It’s sold in the freezer section of most grocery stores, and
people buy buckets of it to take to potlucks. It’s basically legendary. While
the ingredient list for this recipe is lengthy, trust me when I say it’s worth
it. Both my boyfriend and my mother swear this is their new favorite chili.
Serve it with steamed white rice or cornbread, and don’t blame me if people
start asking you to bring it to potlucks.
Serves 6
ounces bacon, chopped
2½ ounces Portuguese sausage,
chopped, or cooked Portuguese Sausage Patties (this page), broken into pieces
1 pound 93/7 ground beef 1
Maui onion, chopped 4 celery stalks, chopped
½ green bell pepper, seeded
and chopped 3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely grated ½ teaspoon peeled and
grated fresh ginger ¼ cup red wine
1 cup chicken broth
Two 8-ounce cans tomato sauce
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper 2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons chili powder ½
teaspoon dried oregano Pinch of smoked paprika ¼ teaspoon ground cumin 1
teaspoon Worcestershire sauce 2 tablespoons ketchup
Two 15¼-oz cans kidney beans,
rinsed and drained 1 to 2 tablespoons Best Foods (or Hellmann’s) mayonnaise 3
cups steamed rice or 1 recipe Cornbread (this page), for
serving
Line a plate with paper towels and set aside. In a large Dutch
oven set over medium heat, fr y the bacon and Portuguese sausage until crispy
and browned, 5 to 6 minutes, stirring often with a wooden spoon. Remove with a
slotted spoon and place on the paper towellined plate.
Add the ground beef to the pot and cook, stirring often and
breaking up the meat into small pieces, until browned, 7 to 10 minutes. Remove
the meat with a slotted spoon and place in a bowl. Drain all but 1 to 2
tablespoons fat from the pan.
Set the pot back over medium heat and add the onion, celer y, bell
pepper, garlic, and ginger. Cook until the onion is translucent and the celer y
is soft, 5 to 6 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent burning. Meanwhile,
finely mince the fried bacon and Portuguese sausage. Once the onion is
translucent, add the beef, bacon, and Portuguese sausage back into the pot. Add
the red wine, chicken broth, tomato sauce, bay leaves, salt, black pepper to
taste, sugar, chili powder, oregano, paprika, cumin, Worcestershire sauce,
ketchup, and kidney beans. Stir with the wooden spoon to combine and bring to a
low boil.
Turn the heat to low and simmer for 30 minutes; taste halfway through
and adjust the seasoning. The liquid should reduce by at least half. If you
like your chili thicker, continue simmering to the desired thickness. When you
are ready to serve, remove the pot from the heat and mix in the mayonnaise to
taste. Ser ve with rice or cornbread.
ON THE MENU:
Fried Wontons, this page
Side salad with Dynamite Sauce, this page
Malasadas, this page
FROM THE SEA
(Mea‘ai Kai)
When you’re surrounded by water, you
know a thing or two about preparing seafood. And oftentimes you know your
fisherman and almost always where your seafood is coming from. While not
everyone lives in Hawai‘i, so close to fresh seafood, you can check with the Monterey Bay
Aquarium Seafood Watch and search for sustainably sourced seafood to prepare
the dishes in this chapter!
CHINESE-STYLE STEAMED FISH
Moi, or Pacific threadfin,
was once considered the fish of royalty, and centuries ago, only royalty were
allowed to eat it. Nowadays, it’s still thought of as a delicacy. Flaky and mild
flavored, this white-fleshed, silver-and-black-striped fish is an island
favorite. Steaming it Chinesestyle is a great way to serve it. If you can’t
find Moi, look for a mild, white fleshed fish.
Serves 2 to 4
tablespoon sesame oil ¼ cup
soy sauce (shoyu) 2 teaspoons sugar
1 Hawaiian chili pepper
(nīoi), thinly sliced (optional) One 2-pound whole moi or other mild,
white-fleshed fish, cleaned Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 green onions, green parts
only, cut into 2-inch lengths
One 3-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and sliced crosswise into coins, plus one 2-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and julienned
1 bunch cilantro
2 tablespoons sake
2 tablespoons macadamia nut
oil 2 cups steamed rice, for serving
In a small bowl, whisk together the sesame oil, soy sauce, sugar,
and chili pepper (if using). Set aside.
Using a paring knife, cut three or four 1-inch slits on each side
of the fish through the skin to the bone. Pat the fish dr y with paper towels
and generously season the fish, inside and out, with salt and
black pepper. Insert 1 piece of green onion and 1 coin of ginger into each slit
and stuff the fish with half of the remaining ginger coins, one-third of the
remaining green onions, and one-third of the cilantro. Lay out half the
remaining cilantro, the rest of the ginger coins, and half the remaining green
onions on the bottom of a steamer basket to create a bed for the fish to rest
on. Chop the remaining cilantro leaves and stems and set aside. Place the fish
on the bed of aromatics.
In a large pot with the lid on, bring 2 inches of water to boil
over high heat. Set the steamer basket in the pot and turn the heat to low,
keeping the water at a simmer. Pour the sake over the fish and immediately
cover the pot with the lid. Steam until the flesh is opaque and easily flakes,
16 to 20 minutes. Remove the aromatics from the fish and discard. Place the
fish on a platter.
In a small saucepan, heat the macadamia nut oil over high heat
just until it starts to sizzle. Pour it all over the fish. Add the soy sauce
mixture to the saucepan and heat over high heat until hot, less than 1 minute.
Pour the sauce over the fish and top with the remaining green onions, chopped
cilantro, and julienned ginger. Ser ve with bowls of steamed rice.
ON THE MENU: Namasu, this page
Side salad with Creamy Asian Dressing,
this page Guava Cake, this page
SQUID LŪ‘AU
This classic Hawaiian dish is
the reason why today we call a celebration, or pā‘ina, a lū‘au. Since it was served
at so many events, the name became synonymous with the parties. Making this
stew of lūʻau (taro or kalo) leaves, tender octopus (called he‘e in Hawaiian
and tako in Japanese), and creamy coconut milk requires some patience, but the
sweet and savory end result is well worth it. And don’t be fooled by what the
recipe is called, squid lū‘au: octopus is typically used despite the name.
Serves 6 to 8
pounds taro (lūʻau or kalo) leaves 1¼ cups Hawaiian
salt (‘alaea) One 1½- to 2-pound octopus Two or three 12-ounce cans light beer
1½ cups coconut milk
1 tablespoon sugar, or more
to taste
Wearing disposable gloves (see Note, this page), wash the taro leaves and use a paring knife to remove the stem
and any tough veins. Chop the leaves into 3 by 3-inch pieces. Set aside.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat and add the
chopped taro leaves. Turn the heat to medium-low and simmer for about 3 hours,
stirring the leaves in a J motion every 10 to 15 minutes to ensure they cook
evenly and to avoid burning them on the pot bottom. Add more water as needed.
Meanwhile, add about 1 cup of the salt to the bottom of a large
bowl. Stuff the beak (the mouth) of the octopus with the salt. Holding the
head, lift the octopus up and down continuously in the salt until the eyes
“cry” with black ink, 15 to 20 minutes, then rinse well.
Select a pot that is just big enough for the octopus to fill
almost completely. Place the octopus in the pot and add enough of the beer to
just cover it. Bring to a boil over high heat, then turn the heat to low and
simmer until ver y tender, about 1½ hours.
Again wearing gloves, remove the octopus from the pot and use your
fingers to rub and strip the dark skin away from the meat. Note that cleaning
the octopus in this way is easiest while it is still hot. Most of the suckers
will be removed at this time, leaving you with clean, white octopus meat. Cut
the head away and discard, then cut the meat from the tentacles into ½-inch pieces
and set it aside in a bowl.
When the taro leaves are cooked, drain the water from the pot and
add ½ cup water, the coconut milk, 1 teaspoon salt, and the sugar. Cook over
medium heat, stirring often, for about 15 minutes. Add the reser ved octopus
and stir until well incorporated. Adjust the salt and sugar to taste. Ser ve in
bowls.
ON THE MENU:
Lomi Salmon, this page Poi, this page
Chicken Long Rice, this page
FRIED REEF FISH
True story: I never took to
fishing because one of the first and only times I ever went, I caught a stick
fish. You might not think it sounds very traumatizing, but tell that to an
eight-year-old who didn’t realize she caught a stick fish, not a stick, until
it jumped out at her! While I wouldn’t recommend frying stick fish, I would
definitely recommend frying small reef fish, like menpachi. Usually done
outside in a wok or skillet set on a propane burner, this simple fried fish is
a winner every time. If possible, I’d recommend doing this outside, to avoid filling
your home with the smell of fried fish!
Serves 4
small reef fish (such as
menpachi, manini, or aholehole), cleaned Kosher salt and freshly ground black
pepper
1 cup all-purpose flour
Neutral oil, for fr ying
Soy sauce (shoyu), for ser
ving Lemon wedges, for ser ving
Line a plate with paper towels and set aside. On each side of the
fish, cut three or four slits through the skin to the bone. Pat the fish dr y
with paper towels and generously season the fish with salt and pepper. Place
the flour in a shallow bowl or dish and coat the fish, on both sides, with
flour, dusting off any excess. In a large skillet or a wok, add an inch or two
of oil and heat over medium heat to about 350°F. Place the fish in the skillet
and fr y on both sides for about 3
minutes on each side, until brown and crisp. Drain on the paper
towel-lined plate and ser ve with soy sauce and lemon wedges.
ON THE MENU:
Pohole Fern Salad, this page Poi, this
page
Haupia, this page
LOCAL-STYLE FISH
Stuffed with a mixture of
mayonnaise, Portuguese sausage, aromatics, and tomatoes, opakapaka fish is a
local favorite. Look for a small snapper (pink or gray) for making this dish.
Serves 2 to 4
large ti leaves, tough stems
removed
One whole 2-pound Hawaiian
pink snapper (opakapaka) or similar fish, cleaned 1 tablespoon Hawaiian salt
(‘alaea)
1 tablespoon freshly ground
black pepper 1½ cups Best Foods (or Hellmann’s) mayonnaise 4 garlic cloves,
peeled and finely grated One 1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and grated ½
Maui or yellow onion, peeled and sliced 3 vine-ripened tomatoes, sliced
4 green onions, green parts
only, chopped
One 5-ounce Portuguese
sausage, thinly sliced, or 5 ounces cooked Portuguese Sausage Patties (this page), broken into pieces
1 cup steamed rice, for
serving
Preheat the oven to 375°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with a row
of the ti leaves and set it aside.
Using a paring knife, cut three or four 1-inch slits on each side
of the fish through the skin to the bone. Pat the fish dr y with paper towels
and generously season the fish, inside and out, with the salt and black pepper.
Coat each side of the fish with ¼ cup of the mayonnaise (½ cup total). In a
bowl, combine the remaining 1 cup
mayonnaise, the garlic, ginger, Maui onion, tomatoes, green
onions, and Portuguese sausage. Stuff the fish with this mixture and place it
on the ti leaves. Wrap the ti leaves around the fish and tie with kitchen
string or ti leaf strips. Cover the pan with aluminum foil.
Bake the fish until the flesh is opaque and flakes easily, 40 to
50 minutes. Ser ve with steamed rice.
ON THE MENU:
Namasu, this page
Side salad with Creamy Asian Dressing,
this page Lilikoʻi Chiffon Pie, this page
GINGER MISOYAKI BUTTERFISH
Things you learn when you
move away from Hawai‘i: Butterfish is not a type of fish. It refers to a style
of preparation, not an actual fish. What’s more confusing is that the type of
fish typically used in butterfish dishes is often called black cod, but that
fish is actually a North Pacific sablefish! Learn from my mistakes and ask your
local fishmonger for North Pacific sablefish fillets when preparing this dish.
And plan ahead. While most local grocery stores sell marinated butterfish
fillets, it takes 2 to 3 days to marinate your own at home.
Serves 4
¾ cup white miso paste ¾ cup
packed brown sugar 1 cup sake
1 cup mirin
½ cup rice vinegar ¼ cup soy
sauce (shoyu)
One ½-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and finely grated Four 4-ounce North Pacific sablefish fillets
2 cups steamed rice, for
serving Furikake (see this
page), for ser ving Blanched baby bok choy, for ser
ving
In a small saucepan, whisk together the miso paste, brown sugar,
sake, mirin, rice vinegar, soy sauce, and ginger. Bring to a simmer over medium
heat, whisking occasionally. Turn the heat to low and simmer until the mixture
has thickened and reduced by a quarter or so, 45 minutes to 1 hour. Let cool
completely.
Place the fillets in a gallon-size ziplock bag and pour the cooled
sauce over them. Seal and transfer the bag to the fridge to marinate
for 2 to 3 days, turning the bag ever y 24 hours.
Remove the bag from the refrigerator and let it sit at room
temperature for 30 minutes.
Preheat the broiler and raise your oven rack to the top spot; it
should be 6 to 8 inches from the coils. Line a rimmed baking sheet with
aluminum foil, dull side up.
Wipe off any excess sauce from the top of the fillets and arrange
them, skin side down, on the foil-lined baking sheet. Broil until the fish
flesh is almost opaque, 8 to 10 minutes. Broil for a minute or two to
caramelize the top of the fish; it’s done when the outer edges start to
blacken. Serve with steamed rice, furikake, and baby bok choy.
ON THE MENU:
Takuan, this page
Side salad with Guava Dressing, this page
Macadamia Nut Cream Pie, this page
NOODLES
(Nulu)
When it comes to carbs, rice
may be the reigning champ in Hawai‘i, but noodles come in a
close second. From Saimin (this page) to Pansit (this
page), we find lots of ways to eat a variety of
noodles. Dry Mein (this page), a dish that
uses saimin noodles, is great for potlucks, as is Somen Salad (this page). Whether you’re craving something soupy,
stir-fried, or cold, we’ve got you covered.
SAIMIN
Most people take one look at
saimin and assume it’s Japanese. After all, it sure does look like ramen. But
if you look closer, you’ll notice a light, clear broth rather than the heavy,
thick broth you find in most ramen joints. And then there are the toppings.
They look the same, but also different. Ramen is usually topped with some mix
of chashu (roasted pork), menma (seasoned bamboo shoot), tamago (usually a
soft-boiled shoyu egg), bean sprouts, negi (green onion), kamaboko (fish cake),
and even canned corn, whereas saimin is typically topped with a combination of
char siu, egg omelet strips, bean sprouts, green onion, kamaboko, chopped won
bok (napa cabbage), and boiled wontons. Saimin noodles are made with egg, like
fresh chow mein noodles. According to food historians, saimin has Chinese
roots, as does, coincidentally, ramen! Sai mihn (Cantonese for “thin noodle”)
looks pretty Chinese to me, but you be the judge.
My favorite saimin noodles
come from Iwamoto Natto Factory in Pā’iu, Maui. They make the noodles for Sam
Sato’s, a local favorite for dishes like saimin and their famed dry mein (see this page). While you don’t need to make your own, I’ve included a
recipe for them in case you don’t have access to fresh noodles. It’s worth
noting that a pasta machine with a spaghetti cutter is required to make them.
If you’re on the West or East Coast, look for Sun Noodle brand.
Serves 8
Noodles
tablespoon baking soda 2
teaspoons kosher salt 2 cups cool water
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
½ cups bread flour 3½ cups
cake flour 1 cup cornstarch
Dashi Broth
quarts water
One 1½-pound smoked ham hock
or shank 1 pound chicken drumsticks or wings
1 ounce dried shrimp (opae; I
buy Family Food Company’s from Marukai Market) 6 dried shiitake mushrooms,
rinsed
5 or 6 green onions
1 teaspoon Hawaiian salt
(‘alaea)
One 4-inch piece kombu, wiped
clean with a wet paper towel 1 tablespoon soy sauce (shoyu)
2 tablespoons mirin
Recommended Garnishes Char Siu
Pork (this
page), julienned Fish cake (kamaboko), sliced (see
Note) Chopped green onions
Spam, julienned
Thin strips of fried egg
omelet (see this
page) Bean sprouts
Chopped napa cabbage (won
bok) Boiled wontons
To make the noodles, begin by preheating the oven to 250°F. Line a
small rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil and spread the baking soda on it
in a thin, even layer. Bake for 1 hour and let cool completely before using. Be
careful not to touch the baked baking soda because, once baked, it becomes more
alkaline and can irritate your skin.
Once the baking soda is cool, whisk it in a bowl with the kosher
salt and cool water, stirring until the baking soda is dissolved. Next, whisk
the eggs into the mixture. Combine both flours in the bowl of a stand mixer
fitted with the paddle attachment. Turn the mixer to low speed and, working in
four equal additions, slowly pour in the baking soda mixture in a steady
stream. Be sure to let the mixer run a little before the next addition. Halfway
through, when the dough starts to come together, replace the paddle attachment
with the dough hook and knead at medium-low speed until the dough becomes a
rough but mostly formed ball, 8 to 10 minutes. Be sure to scrape down the sides
at times, if necessary. (If at any point it seems like your mixer is working
too hard, turn the dough out and knead by hand.) When the dough is a roughly
formed ball, turn it out onto the counter and knead it into a smooth ball.
Return it to the bowl and cover with a clean, damp kitchen towel. Let it rest
at room temperature for 1 hour.
the ball of dough down into a disk and cut it into sixteen
equalsize pieces. Return all but one piece to the bowl and re-cover the bowl
with the damp kitchen towel (re-dampening it if necessar y). Either roll the
piece out with a rolling pin, or flatten and work it in the palm of your hand
until it’s about ¼ inch thick and somewhat rectangular. Run the flattened piece
through a pasta machine at the widest setting. Do this three times total, then
fold the piece into thirds, like a letter. Flatten the “letter” with the
rolling pin or your hands again until it’s ¼ inch thick. Run the “letter,” seam
side on the left, through the pasta machine three times total. Repeat the
rolling and folding process two more times, or until the dough is smooth and
elastic. Now, turn the dial of your pasta machine one click to a narrower
setting and run the dough through three times (you will not be folding
anymore). Turn the dial one more click and run the dough
1
three more times. Repeat this until the dough is ⁄16 inch thick.
Cut the sheet of dough into foot-long sheets, coat both sides of each sheet
with a generous dusting of the cornstarch, and stack on a rimmed baking sheet.
Cover the sheets of dough with a clean kitchen towel. Repeat with the remaining
pieces of dough.
Fit the pasta machine with the spaghetti cutter and run each dough
sheet through the cutter. Cover the cut noodles with the clean kitchen towel
until they are all cut, then divide them into eight equal portions and set
aside. If not cooking immediately, package the eight servings and refrigerate
or freeze for later use. The noodles will keep in an airtight container for 3
days in the refrigerator or 1 month in the freezer.
To prepare the dashi broth, in a large stockpot, combine the water
with the ham hock, chicken drumsticks, dried shrimp, shiitake mushrooms, green
onions, salt, and kombu. Bring to a boil over high heat. As soon as the mixture
is boiling, remove the kombu. Turn the heat to medium and simmer for 2 hours.
Strain the broth through a large fine-mesh sieve into another large stockpot.
Reserve the chicken and ham hock for another purpose, if you’d like. Place the
strained broth over medium-low heat and add the soy sauce and mirin. Simmer for
15 to 20 minutes.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil; if desired, for a clearer
broth, bring a second large pot of water to a boil. If you have a noodle
basket, place one serving of noodles in it and give a quick rinse under the
kitchen faucet to remove any excess cornstarch. Boil the noodles, in the
basket, until they rise to the surface, 1 to 3 minutes. Fresh noodles should be
done in about a minute; older or frozen noodles will take longer. If using two
pots, drain the noodles and move them to the other pot of boiling water for a
quick rinse.
Place the noodles in a bowl and ladle the broth over. Ser ve the
noodles with any of the recommended garnishes.
Note: Kamaboko (fish cake) is a processed seafood product
usually sold as a semicylindrical white-and-bright-pink loaf. You can find it
in the refrigerated section at most markets in Hawai‘i or at Japanese markets
such as Marukai or Nijiya on the mainland.
ON THE MENU:
Fried Wontons, this page Teriyaki Beef
Sticks, this page
Double-Chocolate Haupia Pie, this page
DRY MEIN
Dry mein is a dry noodle dish
made from the same noodles you use in Saimin. It was created by a Chinese cook
at the Japanese-owned Sam Sato’s restaurant, back when the restaurant was in
its first location in Pu‘unene. Today, there is almost always a wait during the
lunch hour, with locals lining up for their dry mein. The seasoned noodles are
topped with julienned char siu pork, chopped green onions, and bean sprouts and
served with a side of dashi for dipping, sipping, or pouring all over. My go-to
order at the restaurant is one small bowl dry mein, with a side of hot mustard,
one barbecued teriyaki beef stick, and one red bean (azuki/adzuki) pie crust
manju.
Serves 4 to 6
½ pounds fresh saimin
noodles, homemade (see this page) or store-bought (such
as Iwamoto or Sun Noodle brand)
6 ounces bean sprouts ¼ cup
neutral oil
¼ cup soy sauce (shoyu) 2
tablespoons oyster sauce Freshly ground black pepper
1 pound Char Siu Pork (this page), julienned 6 green onions, green parts only, chopped 1
recipe dashi broth (see this page; optional) 4
to 6 Teriyaki Beef Sticks (this page;
optional) Hot mustard paste (see this page;
optional), for ser ving
Bring a large pot of water to boil over high heat. Rinse the
noodles under the kitchen faucet to remove any excess cornstarch. Place the
bean sprouts in a large colander and set in the kitchen sink. Cook the noodles
in the boiling water until they begin to float to the top, about 1 minute. Do
not overcook the noodles; you want them to be al dente.
Pour the noodles into the colander with the bean sprouts. Give the
colander a good shake and transfer the noodles and bean sprouts to a bowl. Toss
them with the oil, soy sauce, oyster sauce, and black pepper to taste. Toss in
the char siu and green onions. If desired, ser ve with a bowl of dashi, a
teriyaki beef stick, and a small dash of hot mustard.
ON THE MENU: Local-Style BBQ Chicken,
this page Teriyaki Beef Sticks, this page Pie Crust Manju, this page
CHOW FUN
This traditional Cantonese
dish is an island favorite. It’s served all around town, though my favorite
still remains Wailuku Hongwanji Mission’s chow fun at the Maui County fair.
This is a great weeknight dinner, as it’s loaded with veggies and flavors, and
it doesn’t get much easier than stir-fried noodles.
Serves 4 to 6
tablespoons neutral oil
3 celery stalks, thinly
sliced on the bias 2 carrots, peeled and julienned
1 small Maui or yellow onion,
peeled and thinly sliced Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper 2 garlic
cloves, peeled and minced 6 ounces snow peas, ends trimmed, julienned 6 ounces
bean sprouts
12 ounces Char Siu Pork (this page), julienned 4 green onions, green parts only, cut into 1-
to 2-inch pieces
1 pound fresh chow fun
noodles, or one 7-ounce package dried chow fun noodles, cooked until al dente
2½ tablespoons oyster sauce
2½ tablespoons soy sauce (shoyu)
In a large wok or wide skillet, heat 1½ tablespoons of the oil
over medium heat until shiny and shimmering. Add the celer y, carrots, and Maui
onion, season with salt and pepper to taste, and stir-fry until the vegetables
are tender, 6 to 8 minutes. Remove the veggies from the pan and set them aside.
Add the remaining ½ tablespoon oil to the pan and stir-fry the
garlic, snow peas, bean sprouts, and char siu, seasoning with salt and
pepper to taste, for 2 to 3 minutes, until the vegetables are
tender. Remove from the pan and set aside with the other stir-fried veggies.
Add the green onions and noodles to the pan and toss with the oyster sauce and
soy sauce. Add all the reserved stir-fried items back to the pan and toss
together, adjusting the seasoning as needed. Serve warm.
ON THE MENU: Shoyu Chicken, this page
Side salad with Papaya Seed Dressing,
this page Butter Mochi, this page
SOMEN SALAD
When I was younger, the best
part about school was the field trips. It wasn’t just a day of freedom from the
classroom that I looked forward to; field trips meant we brought our lunch from
home, and my mom always packed the best lunches. When she had time, there were
homemade Mochiko Chicken (this
page) or Teriyaki Beef Sticks (this page) and musubi (salted rice balls wrapped in nori), always
with a pouch of Capri Sun. When she didn’t have time, we’d grab a somen salad
from Pukalani Superette. Whenever I make this salad, I pack it up in a to-go
container and take it with me to the park or the beach. While I may not be
drinking Capri Suns anymore, I still look forward to field trips and somen
salad.
Serves 6
Dressing
¼ cup sugar
1 cup low-sodium chicken
broth ¼ cup soy sauce (shoyu) 2 tablespoons sesame oil ¼ cup mirin
Salad
½ head napa cabbage (won
bok), shredded
1 handful watercress, leaves
and stems, coarsely chopped
One 12-ounce package somen
noodles (3 bundles), cooked, rinsed with cold water, and drained
8 ounces Char Siu Pork (this page), julienned
4 ounces fish cake (kamaboko;
see Note, this
page), julienned 1 Japanese cucumber or ½ English
cucumber, julienned 2 carrots, peeled and julienned
1 handful snow peas,
julienned
2 large eggs, beaten, fried
into thin omelets, and thinly sliced (see this page)
green onions, green parts
only, thinly sliced
To make the dressing, combine the sugar, chicken broth, soy sauce,
sesame oil, and mirin in a jar with a lid. Shake together until the sugar has
dissolved. Store in the refrigerator until ready to use up to 2 weeks.
To prepare the salad, evenly distribute the cabbage and watercress
into the bottom of your ser ving pan. Cover with the somen noodles. Top with
the char siu, fish cake, cucumber, carrots, snow peas, egg strips, and green
onions.
When you are ready to serve, simply pour on the dressing and toss.
ON THE MENU:
Takuan, this page
Mochiko Chicken, this page Kūlolo Bars,
this page
CHICKEN HEKKA
This is a
clean-out-the-fridge kind of dish, which is why my mom made it a lot when I was
growing up. It’s the local version of Japanese sukiyaki. You can add just about
any vegetable you want—celery, carrots, bean sprouts, green onion, or canned
bamboo shoots. I personally love it with buttery, nutty beech mushrooms, which
come in clusters and are usually packaged. If you can’t find them, feel free to
substitute sliced cremini mushrooms. Cooked in an easy-to-make broth, this
makes for a hearty and healthy meal. It’s a dish that my grandma made for my
mom, and my great-grandma made for my grandma. And now I make it for my
boyfriend.
Serves 4 to 6
tablespoon neutral oil
1 pound boneless, skinless
chicken thighs, cut into 1-inch wide strips One 1-inch piece fresh ginger,
peeled and grated
2 garlic cloves, peeled and
finely grated ½ cup soy sauce (shoyu)
½ cup mirin
¼ cup packed brown sugar 1
tablespoon sesame oil 3 cups chicken broth
2 carrots, peeled and
julienned
½ Maui or yellow onion,
peeled and sliced
3½ ounces brown beech
mushrooms (bunashimeji), trimmed and each cluster separated into individual
mushrooms
One 8-ounce can sliced bamboo
shoots in water, drained
One 5.3-ounce package bean
thread noodles, soaked in hot water for 30 minutes, drained, and cut in half
1 bunch green onions, white
and green parts, cut into 1- to 2-inch pieces 1 bunch watercress, stems trimmed
In a large skillet or wok, heat the neutral oil over medium heat
until shiny and shimmering. Add the chicken and cook until it is browned and
cooked through, 4 to 5 minutes. Add the ginger and garlic and cook for a
minute. Add the soy sauce, mirin, brown sugar, sesame oil, and chicken broth
and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
Turn the heat to low and simmer for 10 to 15 minutes. Add the carrots,
Maui onion, mushrooms, and bamboo shoots and simmer until the vegetables are
tender, about 5 minutes. Add the bean thread noodles and green onions and cook
for 2 to 3 minutes. Remove from the heat and serve in bowls, topped with the
watercress.
ON THE MENU:
Lumpia, this page
Side salad with Liliko‘i Vinaigrette,
this page Cascaron, this page
PANSIT
Pansit (or pancit) is
traditionally made with pancit bihon, a rice stick noodle; pancit canton, a
wheat-flour stick noodle; or a combination of the two. In Hawai‘i, it’s not
uncommon to find it made with bean thread noodles and/or saimin noodles. If you
can’t find pancit canton or saimin noodles, feel free to double the amount of
rice stick noodles. It’s great served with a squeeze of calamansi, a Filipino
citrus with bright orange flesh, but if you can’t find calamansi, lemon works
too!
Serves 4 to 6
ounces rice stick noodles
(pancit bihon) 3 dried shiitake mushrooms
Boiling water, for soaking 1
tablespoon neutral oil
8 ounces lean pork, thinly
sliced
Kosher salt and freshly
ground black pepper 4 garlic cloves, peeled and minced 3 carrots, peeled and
julienned 3 celery stalks, julienned
½ Maui or yellow onion,
peeled and sliced
8 ounces small (51/60) raw
shrimp, peeled and deveined 1 cup chicken broth
4 ounces pancit canton or
saimin 3 tablespoons soy sauce (shoyu) 2 teaspoons fish sauce
¼ teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper ¼ head napa cabbage (won bok), shredded Calamansi halves or lemon
wedges, for ser ving
Place the rice stick noodles and mushrooms in a bowl and cover
them with boiling water. Soak for 10 minutes, then drain the water. Cut the
noodles in half and slice the shiitake, removing and discarding the stems. Set
aside.
In a large wok or wide skillet, heat the oil over medium heat
until shiny and shimmering. Season the pork with salt and pepper, add it to the
skillet, and sauté until it is cooked through and browned, 4 to 5 minutes.
Remove the pork from the pan and add the garlic, carrots, celer y, and onion
and sauté until tender, about 5 minutes. Add the shrimp and sauté for 1 minute
more.
Set a pot over medium-high heat, add the chicken broth, and bring
it to a boil. Turn the heat to medium-low and add the pancit canton. Simmer for
2 minutes, then add the rice stick noodles and simmer for 2 minutes more. Drain
the noodles into a colander and add them to the wok along with the reserved
pork and shiitake mushrooms. Add the soy sauce and fish sauce and gently toss
everything together with tongs. Add the cabbage and pepper and simmer for 2
minutes more. Ser ve warm with calamansi halves.
ON THE MENU:
Lumpia, this page
Side salad with Payaya Seed Dressing,
this page Butter Mochi, this page
SWEETS
(Mea‘ono)
With its legacy of sugar, you
could say that Hawai‘i has a bit of a sweet tooth. From more traditional treats, like
Haupia (this
page) and Gau (this page), to pies and cakes with local twists, there’s something for everyone in
this chapter. Not every dish is a dessert, so read closely, as you won’t want to miss the Sweet
Bread Rolls (this
page) or the Malasadas (this page).
LILIKO‘I CHIFFON PIE
If you’ve ever visited
Kaua‘i, chances are you’ve heard of Hamura’s Saimin. Located near the airport
in Līhuʻe, the spot is known for two things: saimin and lilikoʻi (passion
fruit) chiffon pie. The first time I tried the pie, I knew it was a forever
memory. From its light-as-air chiffon filling to the fluffy whipped cream on
top, this pie is like a lilikoʻi cloud. It takes a bit of time to
make, but it is worth all the effort. If you can’t find fresh lilikoʻi, check the
freezer section of your local grocery store. Goya Foods makes a frozen 100
percent passion fruit pulp, and it is just as good as homemade. If you can’t
find Goya, try Ceres brand 100 percent passion fruit juice.
Makes one 9-inch pie
Pie Crust
¼ cups all-purpose flour ½
teaspoon kosher salt 2 teaspoons granulated sugar 1 teaspoon apple cider
vinegar ⅓cup ice-cold water
½ cup cold unsalted butter,
cut into ½-inch cubes 1 large egg white beaten with 1 teaspoon water
Lilikoʻi Chiffon
¼ cup ice-cold water
3½ teaspoons unflavored
gelatin powder 6 large eggs, separated
1¼ cups lilikoʻi (passion fruit) pulp 1 cup
granulated sugar
½ teaspoon kosher salt
Stabilized Whipped Cream
tablespoon ice-cold water
½ teaspoon unflavored gelatin
powder 1 cup cold heavy whipping cream 2 teaspoons confectioners’ sugar ½
teaspoon vanilla extract
Fresh lilikoʻi (passion fruit) seeds, for
garnish (optional)
To make the crust, whisk the flour, salt, and granulated sugar
together in a bowl. Whisk the vinegar into the cold water and set it aside.
Toss the butter in the flour mixture and use a pastry blender or your fingers
to evenly blend it into the flour until the pieces are pea size. If the mixture
begins to get too warm and the butter feels soft, simply pop the bowl into the
freezer for a few minutes. Next, drizzle 3 tablespoons of the cold water over
the mixture. Stir in the water with a rubber spatula and add additional water,
a teaspoon at a time, until you can squeeze a chunk together without it falling
apart; it should look shaggy. Use your hands to press the dough together to
form a ball, then flatten the ball into a disk. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap
and chill in the refrigerator for 1 hour before using.
Preheat the oven to 425°F.
On a lightly floured clean work surface, roll the dough out into a
round about 3 inches wider than the size of your pie dish (I recommend a 9-inch
dish); the dough should be about ⅛inch thick. Gently fold the round in half and carefully transfer
it to the dish. Unfold the round and trim it so there’s about 1 inch of excess
dough hanging over. Fold that excess dough under itself and crimp the edges.
Using a fork, pierce the dough ten to fifteen times, all around the bottom and
a few times on the sides. This will allow the dough to release steam as it
bakes. Transfer the dish to the freezer to chill until ver y firm, about 15
minutes.
Remove the dough from the freezer, completely cover it with
aluminum foil, and fill with pie weights. Bake for 20 minutes. Gently and
carefully remove the foil and pie weights and lower the oven
temperature to 375°F. Use a pastr y brush to brush the crust all over with the
beaten egg white and water. Return the crust to the oven and bake until golden
brown, 8 to 10 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool on a rack.
To make the chiffon, prepare an ice-water bath by filling a bowl
with water and a handful of ice cubes and set it aside. Put the cold water in a
small bowl and evenly sprinkle the gelatin powder over it. Set this bowl aside
to let the gelatin bloom (hydrate) while you work on the rest of the chiffon.
Set a double boiler over medium-low heat and bring the water to a simmer. In
the top pan or bowl of your double boiler, whisk together the egg yolks,
liliko‘i pulp, ½ cup of the granulated sugar, and salt. Continue whisking until
the mixture has thickened to the consistency of a thin glue, 25 to 30 minutes.
Be patient; the mixture will thicken and thin before thickening again. When it
coats the back of a wooden spoon, it is thick enough (it will thicken further
with the addition of the gelatin). Remove the bowl from the heat and whisk in
the gelatin until it has completely dissolved, 2 to 3 minutes. Strain the
mixture through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl, pressing with the back of the
wooden spoon.
Set the strained mixture over
the ice bath to cool quickly.
Meanwhile, set up the double boiler again with a clean top pan or
bowl. Combine the egg whites and the remaining ½ cup granulated sugar in the
pan or bowl and, using a silicone spatula, stir continuously until the sugar
has dissolved completely and the mixture is warm, 2 to 3 minutes.
Pour the mixture into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the
whisk attachment. Whisk on low speed until frothy, then slowly increase to high
and whisk until the mixture is light and fluffy and can hold a stiff peak, a
minute or two. You can test this by lifting the whisk attachment up and out of
the bowl; if you can invert the bowl and the peak holds, it’s done. Be
carefully not to over whip this.
Whisk the cooled lilikoʻi mixture, breaking up with your whisk any parts that have started
to set. Use your spatula to fold in the egg whites in four additions, making
sure they are fully incorporated, without any white streaks. Gently pour the
chiffon mixture into the cooled baked pie crust. Loosely cover the pie with
plastic wrap and transfer to the freezer to set for 1 hour.
To make the whipped cream, put the cold water in a small bowl and
evenly sprinkle the gelatin powder over it. Let the gelatin sit and bloom for 5
minutes, then microwave for 5 seconds to dissolve the gelatin. Whisk the
mixture to fully dissolve the gelatin, if necessar y. Fit the stand mixer with
the whisk attachment and combine the cream, confectioners’ sugar, and vanilla
in the mixer bowl. Whisk the mixture on medium speed until bubbles form, then
gradually increase the speed to high. Turn the speed to low and add the gelatin
mixture, then gradually turn the speed back up to high. Mix until light and
fluffy and soft peaks form, 2 to 3 minutes. Gently spread the whipped cream
over the top of the frozen chiffon filling and return the pie to the freezer
until ready to serve.
Remove the pie from the freezer and let thaw for 20 to 30 minutes
before slicing and ser ving. If desired, garnish the top of the pie with fresh
lilikoʻi seeds.
ON THE MENU: Portuguese Bean Soup,
this page Sweet Bread Rolls, this page
Side salad with Guava Dressing, this page
DOUBLE-CHOCOLATE HAUPIA PIE
Ted’s Bakery on the North Shore
of O‘ahu is famous for its chocolate haupia pie. After a morning beach session,
tourists and locals alike flock to the tiny shop for lunch and, of course, pie.
My version is extra chocolaty, which, when combined with the light and mellow
coconut, makes for a well-balanced yet oh-so-decadant dessert. It is the
perfect way to end any meal, in my opinion.
Makes one 9-inch pie
Chocolate Filling
½ cup sugar
½ teaspoon kosher salt 3
tablespoons cornstarch
¼ cup unsweetened Dutch
process cocoa powder 2 cups whole milk
4 large egg yolks, beaten
5 ounces semisweet or
bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into
pieces
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 baked and cooled pie crust
(see this
page)
Haupia
⅓cup sugar
Pinch of kosher salt 3
tablespoons cornstarch 1½ cups coconut milk ½ cup whole milk
1 batch stabilized whipped
cream (see this
page)
To make the filling, in a medium saucepan, whisk the sugar, salt,
cornstarch, and cocoa powder together. Pour the milk into the mixture in a
slow, steady stream while you continue to whisk. Cook the mixture over medium
heat, whisking continuously, until it comes to a boil, 6 to 8 minutes. Remove
from the heat. Whisk about 1 cup of the hot chocolate mixture into the beaten
egg yolks until fully incorporated, then add this egg mixture back to the
saucepan. Place the mixture over medium-low heat and bring to a simmer,
whisking the entire time, until it is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon,
2 to 3 minutes.
Strain the mixture through a fine-mesh sieve into a clean bowl,
using a wooden spoon to help push the pudding through. Add the chopped
chocolate, butter, and vanilla to the pudding and whisk until the chocolate and
butter are melted and fully incorporated, about 2 minutes. The mixture should
be smooth. Pour the mixture into the cooled pie crust and cover the surface
with a piece of plastic wrap.
To make the haupia, in a saucepan, combine the sugar, salt, and
cornstarch. Whisk in the coconut milk and set the pan over mediumhigh heat.
Whisk continuously until the mixture starts to simmer. Immediately turn the
heat to medium-low and continue to whisk continuously until the mixture begins
to thicken, 4 to 6 minutes. The mixture will go from liquid to ver y liquid
before it starts to thicken, so be patient. Pour in the whole milk in a steady
stream while continuing to whisk. Raise the heat to medium and continue
whisking until the mixture has thickened to the consistency of a thick glue and
coats the back of a spoon, another 4 to 6 minutes. Remove from the heat.
Remove the plastic wrap from the chocolate filling and pour the
hot haupia mixture over the chocolate filling. Let it cool for 10 minutes
before covering the top of the pie with a sheet of plastic wrap. Transfer the
pie to the refrigerator to chill and set for 2 hours before ser ving.
Top with whipped cream and ser ve!
ON THE MENU: Chicken Adobo, this page
Dry Mein, this page
Side salad with Lilikoʻi Vinaigrette, this page
MACADAMIA NUT CREAM PIE
When I was younger, my Aunty
Sandy and Uncle Bob had a macadamia nut farm. They grew and roasted the best
mac nuts I’ve ever had, and I never appreciated how great the nuts were until
the day they sold the farm. Rich and buttery, macadamia nuts add a nice crunch
and subtle sweetness to this pie. Fun fact: To correct a common misconception,
macadamia nuts are actually indigenous to Australia, not Hawai‘i.
Makes one 9-inch pie
¾ cup sugar
2 cups whole milk
6 large egg yolks, lightly
beaten ⅓cup cornstarch
Pinch of kosher salt
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
½ cup plus 2 tablespoons
chopped, toasted, salted, dr y-roasted macadamia nuts 1 baked and cooled pie
crust (see this
page)
2 batches stabilized whipped
cream (see this
page)
In a saucepan, combine ¼ cup of the sugar and the milk. Heat over
medium heat for 2 to 3 minutes, until the mixture begins to steam, then
immediately remove the pan from the heat. Meanwhile, in a bowl, whisk the
remaining ½ cup sugar, egg yolks, cornstarch, and salt together until smooth.
Slowly ladle about 1 cup of the hot milk mixture, ¼ cup at a time, into the egg
yolks, whisking the entire time. Pour the tempered yolk mixture into the
saucepan and cook, whisking continuously, until thick, 5 to 6 minutes. Remove
the saucepan from the heat and whisk in the butter and vanilla until smooth.
Stir in ½ cup of the macadamia nuts.
Pour the filling into the cooled pie crust and cover with a piece
of plastic wrap directly touching the surface of the filling. Let cool to room
temperature, then transfer the pie to the refrigerator to chill and set for 2
hours before ser ving.
Remove from the plastic wrap, top with the whipped cream and the
remaining chopped macadamia nuts, and ser ve!
ON THE MENU:
Namasu, this page
Ginger Misoyaki Butterfish, this page
Side salad with Guava Dressing, this page
BUTTER MOCHI
Butter mochi is a mainstay at
any island party. You can see why: it’s like a perfectly chewy, slightly
sticky, and just-dense-enough coconutcustard glutinous rice cake. What I love
about it is how it evolves over the course of twenty-four hours. The first day
it’s got this gorgeous, golden brown, crispy, crunchy crust that magically
transforms into a soft, almost melty crust the next day. While you can halve
the recipe, I doubt you’ll want to after trying a bite!
Makes 20 pieces
large eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract 2
cups skim milk
One 1-pound box mochiko flour
(see this
page) 2 cups sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder ½
teaspoon kosher salt ½ cup unsalted butter, melted One 13½-ounce can coconut
milk ½ cup unsweetened shredded coconut A few pinches of flaky salt (optional)
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease a 9 by 13-inch baking pan with
butter or oil.
In a bowl, whisk together the eggs, vanilla, and milk. In another
larger bowl, whisk together the mochiko, sugar, baking powder, and kosher salt.
Pour the wet ingredients into the dr y ingredients and, with a wooden spoon,
stir until well combined. Add the melted butter and coconut milk and mix until
fully incorporated. Pour the mixture into the prepared pan and rap the pan on
the counter a couple of times to
bring any air bubbles up to the surface. Evenly sprinkle the
shredded coconut on top of the mixture, a handful at a time, being careful not
to jiggle the pan too much, as you want the coconut to stay on the top. Then
sprinkle on a few pinches of flaky salt, if desired.
Bake until the mochi is set and golden brown on top, about 1 hour.
Set the pan on a wire rack and let cool completely before slicing into
rectangles using a plastic knife to minimize sticking; I cut four columns and
five rows to make twenty 2¼ by 2½-inch pieces. If the knife seems to be
sticking, rub it with a little unsalted butter or neutral oil. Store in an
airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days.
ON THE MENU:
Mac Salad, this page Loco Moco, this page
Side salad with Papaya Seed Dressing,
this page
HAUPIA
Found at lūʻau,
potlucks, and other events, haupia is a classic Hawaiian dessert. While it is
commonly known as a coconut pudding, the texture is similar to a panna
cotta—not quite as dense as Jell-O but not as soft as a traditional pudding.
Made with a few simple ingredients, it’s always a crowd-pleaser. Use the best
coconut you can find. Serve this chilled at the end of a meal.
Makes 25 squares
⅔cup sugar
¼ teaspoon kosher salt ½ cup
cornstarch
3 cups coconut milk 1⅓cups whole milk
Toasted coconut flakes, for
garnish (optional)
In a medium saucepan, combine the sugar, salt, and cornstarch.
Whisk in the coconut milk and set over medium-high heat. Whisk continuously
until the mixture starts to simmer. Immediately turn the heat to medium-low and
continue to whisk continuously until the mixture begins to thicken, 4 to 6
minutes. The mixture will go from liquid to ver y liquid before it starts to
thicken.
Pour in the whole milk in a steady stream while continuing to
whisk. Bring the heat back up to medium and continue whisking until the mixture
has thickened to the consistency of a thick glue and can coat the back of a
spoon, another 4 to 6 minutes.
Remove from the heat, pour into an 8-inch square baking pan, and
smooth the top with a rubber spatula. Let cool for 10 minutes before covering
the top of the pan with a sheet of plastic wrap. Transfer the pan to the
refrigerator to chill and set for 2 hours. For an extra-smooth
top, carefully place a sheet of plastic wrap directly on the top
of the haupia after it has cooled for 10 minutes.
Remove the plastic wrap and, using a sharp knife, cut five columns
and five rows to make 25 squares. Place each piece in a paper muffin-tin liner
and ser ve chilled. If desired, sprinkle the toasted coconut flakes on top,
right before ser ving.
ON THE MENU:
Poi, this page
Pohole Fern Salad, this page Squid Lūʻau, this page
SWEET POTATO HAUPIA BARS
A twist on the classic
Hawaiian treat, these bars are as tasty as they are beautiful. The contrasting
layers differ not only in color but in texture. Not too sweet, these bars are
well balanced and appeal to even the pickiest eater.
Makes 28 bars
pounds Okinawan sweet
potatoes 2 cups all-purpose flour
½ cup sugar
1 cup cold unsalted butter,
cut into ½-inch cubes ¾ cup salted dr y-roasted macadamia nuts, coarsely
chopped ½ cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
¾ cup sugar
2 large eggs
½ cup whole milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract ¼
teaspoon kosher salt
1 batch Haupia (this page), before serving
Preheat the oven to 350°F and line a baking sheet with parchment
paper. Everything will be baked at this temperature, so keep the oven on
throughout. Begin by baking the sweet potatoes. Prick the sweet potatoes all
over with a fork, at least five times on each potato. Set them on the prepared
baking sheet and bake for 40 minutes to 1 hour, depending on the size of the
potatoes. Start checking the doneness after 35 minutes. To check if they are
done, simply insert a fork into the middle of the potato; if it goes in easily
with little resistance, it’s done. Set the baked potatoes on a wire rack to
cool. When cool enough to handle, peel off the skins from the potatoes and cut
them into 1-inch cubes. Transfer the cubes to the bowl of a stand
mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and beat on medium speed
for 1 to 2 minutes, until smooth and fluffy. Remove from the bowl, cover, and
set aside.
To make the shortbread layer, meanwhile, in a large bowl, combine
the flour and ½ cup sugar and give it a quick mix with a wooden spoon or your
hands. Using a pastry blender, cut the cold unsalted butter into the flour
mixture, blending until the mixture resembles coarse sand. If you don’t have a
pastr y blender, you can combine the sugar and butter in a food processor and
pulse until the butter is pea size; add the flour and pulse until it resembles
coarse sand. Add the macadamia nuts and mix with a wooden spoon or your hands.
Press the mixture into a 9 by 13-inch baking pan and prick with a fork ten to
fifteen times all over the surface. Bake until the crust is golden brown, 15 to
20 minutes. Set the pan on a wire rack to cool.
In a large bowl, combine the room-temperature butter and ¾ cup
sugar and beat with a hand mixer on medium-low speed. Add the eggs, one at a
time, mixing on low to incorporate. Add the sweet potatoes and mix on
medium-low until thoroughly combined. Add the milk, vanilla, and salt, mixing
on low until well combined. Pour the mixture over the baked crust and bake
until the potato has set and has a pale golden tone on top, 30 to 35 minutes.
Turn off the oven. Set the pan on a wire rack and let the potato layer cool for
30 minutes before making the haupia layer.
Pour the haupia over the top of the cooled potato layer and let
cool for 10 minutes. Cover with plastic wrap and transfer the pan to the
refrigerator to chill and set for 2 hours. For an extra-smooth top, carefully
place a sheet of plastic wrap directly on the top of the haupia after it has
cooled for 10 minutes.
When chilled, slice the bars into rectangles to serve; I usually
cut four columns and seven rows to make 28 squares.
ON THE MENU:
Namasu, this page
Spam Fried Rice, this page Mochiko
Chicken, this page
SHAVE ICE
Almost every great beach day
ends with a shave ice, a hot-weather treat that is said to have originated from
the Japanese kakigōri. Rainbow colored and feathery soft, shave ice is made of
finely shaved ice, not crushed ice like is used for snow cones. To make it at
home, you will need to purchase a shave ice machine from an Asian market or
Amazon. The best shave ice is always made with fresh fruit syrups, but in a
pinch, Malolo is a popular brand of premade syrups in Hawai‘i.
Makes 4 to 6 servings
Strawberry Syrup
pound fresh ripe
strawberries, hulled and sliced 1 cup sugar
1½ cups water
2 to 3 drop red food coloring
gel (optional)
Lilikoʻi Syrup
¾ cup lilikoʻi (passion fruit) pulp (see this page) 1 cup sugar
1½ cups water
Vanilla Syrup
½ cups sugar 1¾ cups water
1 vanilla bean, split and
scraped
2 to 3 drops blue food
coloring gel (optional)
8 to 10 cups ice, for shaving
Vanilla ice cream, for ser
ving (optional)
Li hing powder (see this page), for sprinkling (optional)
To make the syrups, place the individual syrup ingredients, except
the food coloring, into their own saucepans and bring each to a boil over
medium-high heat. Turn the heat to low and simmer for 20 minutes. Let the mixtures
cool to room temperature; add the food coloring (if using) and strain the
strawberr y and passion fruit mixtures through a fine-mesh sieve (not necessary
for the vanilla). Transfer each syrup to a separate bottle and chill until
ready to use up to 1 month.
Use a shave ice machine to shave the ice. Alternatively, you can
process the ice through a food processor, though the shave will not be as fine.
Add a scoop of vanilla ice cream to the bottom of a paper cone, if you’d like.
Pack shave ice into the cone and drizzle on the syrup. You can also sprinkle on
li hing powder, if desired. Serve immediately.
ON THE MENU: Takuan, this page
Beef Curry, this page
Side salad with Creamy Asian Dressing,
this page
ICE CAKE
When I was in middle school,
my favorite afternoon treat was an ice cake. A remnant of the plantations, this
no-frills sweet is made with only a few ingredients. While it’s becoming harder
and harder to find in stores, ice cakes are easy to make and are the answer to
a hot summer day. Besides the short ingredient list, all you need for these are
eight 4ounce paper cups and small wooden spoons for serving.
Makes 8 cups
cup evaporated milk 1 cup
water
1 cup Liliko‘i Syrup,
Strawberry Syrup, or Vanilla Syrup (see this page)
Have ready eight 4-ounce paper cups. In a bowl, whisk the
evaporated milk, water, and desired syrup together. Pour 6 tablespoons of the
mixture into each paper cup. Freeze until frozen solid, at least 3 hours or up
to 2 weeks.
Briefly run an upside-down cup under warm water to loosen the ice
cake, remove the ice cake and then flip it back over into the cup. Ser ve
immediately with small wooden spoons.
ON THE MENU:
Maki Sushi, this page Potato Mac Salad,
this page
Maui-Style Kalbi Short Ribs, this page
KŪLOLO BARS
In its traditional form,
kūlolo is thick, coarse, and similar in texture to gummy cooked rice. It’s
typically steamed for long hours or baked in an imu (earthen oven) overnight.
When you’re eating it, you’re almost certain to find it sticking all over your
fingers. While steamed kūlolo is sticky all over, these bars are a twist on the
classic Hawaiian confection. They’re baked and have a thick yet airy outer
crust and a smooth, dense, and gooey center. Not too sweet, these are perfect
with an afternoon cup of tea.
Makes 25 pieces
½ pounds cleaned and peeled
taro (kalo) root (see Note, this page), finely grated (about
3 cups)
8 ounces finely grated fresh
coconut meat (about 2 cups) One 13½-ounce can coconut milk
½ cup water
¾ cup packed dark brown sugar
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line a 9-inch square baking pan with
two pieces of parchment paper so there’s overhang on all sides. Combine the
taro, coconut meat and milk, water, and brown sugar in the bowl of a food
processor and process until thoroughly combined and ver y smooth, about 2
minutes. Pour the mixture into the lined pan. Use a spatula to make sure the
batter is evenly distributed and smooth on top. Fold over the overhanging paper
to encase the mixture, then cover the pan with aluminum foil.
Bake for 2½ hours. Remove the foil and open up the parchment and
bake for another 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and let the kūlolo cool completely
in the pan.
Using the parchment, lift the cooled kūlolo from the pan. To
serve, use a plastic knife (to minimize sticking) to cut five columns and five
rows to make 25 squares. If not ser ving immediately, or for leftovers, wrap
the bars tightly with plastic wrap and store in a cool, dry place for up to 2
days.
ON THE MENU: Lomi Salmon, this page
Chicken Long Rice, this page Pork Laulau, this page
PIE CRUST MANJU
Best served straight from the
oven, this Japanese pastry is great with coffee or tea and can be eaten in the
morning with your breakfast or in the afternoon as a snack. Filled with either
azuki (red bean) paste or lima bean paste, these manju are often boxed up by
the dozen and given as omiyage, which is a gift or souvenir you give to your
family, friends, or even coworkers after returning from a trip. While there are
a few forms for the outer shell, pie crust is by far my favorite.
Makes 12 manju
One 17½-ounce package of
azuki (red bean) paste (tsubu an) 2½ cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon table salt 2
tablespoons sugar
½ cup plus 2 tablespoons
unsalted butter, melted ½ cup water
A few ice cubes
1 teaspoon apple cider
vinegar 1 large egg yolk
1 tablespoon whole milk
Preheat the oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment
paper and set it aside.
Scoop 2 tablespoons of the azuki bean paste and roll it into a
ball. (If the filling is too sticky, you can splash a little water on your
hands.) Repeat until you have 12 balls. Place them on a plate and cover with
plastic wrap to prevent the balls from drying out.
In a bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, and sugar. Pour in the
melted butter in a steady stream, mixing it in with a wooden spoon.
In a small bowl, combine the water, ice, and vinegar, swirling it
with a spoon to help it chill quickly. Add 7 tablespoons of the ice-water
mixture to the flour-butter mixture, stirring with the wooden spoon until it
becomes a shaggy mess. When it gets too hard to mix with the spoon, use your
hands to mix until just combined. Turn out the dough onto a clean work surface
and shape into a disk. Cut the disk into 12 equal pieces, transfer them back to
the bowl, and cover with a clean towel to prevent the dough from dr ying out.
Working with one piece at a time, roll each piece of dough into a
ball, then lightly flatten it with your hand to form a disk. Generously flour
your work surface and rolling pin and roll the dough, making a quarter turn
ever y time and rolling toward your body with each roll. When the round is 5
inches wide, use the rolling pin to make the outer edges slightly thinner than
the rest of the round. This will make it easier to form and seal the edges
around the azuki bean filling.
Place 1 ball of filling in the middle of your dough round. Moisten
the thin edges of the dough with a wet fingertip. Gather the dough together by
pleating the edges of the dough round repeatedly, pinching them together after
each pleat until the dough is sealed around the azuki ball. Turn the ball over
in your palm, pleat side down, and use the other hand to gently press into a
rounded ball with a flat bottom. Set on the prepared baking sheet and repeat
until all the dough and filling has been used.
In a small bowl, whisk the egg yolk together with the milk to form
an egg wash. Using a pastr y brush, glaze the tops of balls with the egg wash.
Bake for 20 minutes. Carefully flip all the manju over, seam side up, and
return to the oven to bake for another 5 minutes, until golden brown. Transfer
to a wire rack, right side up, to cool. Manju will keep at room temperature in
an airtight container for 2 to 3 days, but they are best the first day.
ON THE MENU:
Pohole Fern Salad, this page Mochiko
Chicken, this page Saimin, this page
CASCARON
When I was younger, I used to
get these sticks at Ka‘ahumanu Mall in Kahului, Maui, during the weekly
farmers’ market. I like to describe cascaron as slightly sweet, coconutty balls
of fried mochi. They are easy to make and are best served the day they are
made.
Makes about 30 balls
One 1-pound box mochiko flour
(see this
page) 1½ cups packed brown sugar
2 cups unsweetened shredded
coconut 2 cups coconut milk
Neutral oil, for deep-fr ying
⅓cup water
In a bowl, whisk together the mochiko, ½ cup of the brown sugar,
and the coconut. Mix in the coconut milk, stirring with a wooden spoon until
there are no dry clumps. Form into golf ball-size pieces and roll on a clean
work surface until round.
Line a rimmed baking sheet with paper towels. Fill a wide Dutch
oven or other pot with 2 inches of oil. Heat the pot over medium-low heat to
325°F. Alternatively, a deep fr yer can be used. Fr y the balls in batches
until golden brown and cooked through, 3 to 4 minutes per batch; test for
doneness by cutting into a ball. Transfer to the prepared baking sheet to
drain. Thread 3 or 4 warm balls onto each bamboo skewer and place the skewers
on a wire rack set over a rimmed baking sheet.
Combine the remaining 1 cup brown sugar and the water in a small
saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook until the sugar is
completely dissolved, about 1 minute, then pour the sugar
mixture all over the balls, turning the skewers as needed. Let
cool for 10 minutes before ser ving warm.
ON THE MENU:
Lumpia, this page
Mac Salad, this page Pork and Peas, this
page
MALASADAS
Leonard’s Bakery in Honolulu,
O‘ahu, is world famous for its malasadas, Portuguese doughnuts rolled in granulated
sugar and usually filled with haupia or macadamia pastry cream. You’ll
understand why when you bite into these hot, pillowy, sugar-coated doughnuts.
While I love going to Leonard’s for a freshly fried malasada, I actually prefer
making my own. One of my favorite memories is producing them in my Los Angeles
kitchen for my friend Lily, who had never had a malasada, and watching her take
that first bite. Lily and I both grew up in Maui, about ten minutes from each
other, but we didn’t meet until we were both living in LA. And while you’d
think that we’d share the same food memories from Maui, they couldn’t be more
different. Lily grew up vegetarian in a Maui-hippie family, where ingredients
like spirulina and nutritional yeast were daily staples, while I was raised in
a family that made all the local favorites. Vegetarian or not, your first bite
of a malasada is one to be treasured.
Makes 20 to 24 malasadas
Dough
¾ cup whole milk, warmed
(100° to 110°F) ¾ cup evaporated milk, warmed (100° to 110°F) 3 tablespoons
unsalted butter, melted
Two 0.25-ounce packages
active dr y yeast (4½ teaspoons total) 1 teaspoon sugar, plus ¾ cup and more
for dusting 3 large eggs
4 cups bread flour ¾ teaspoon
kosher salt Neutral oil, for deep-fr ying
Pastry Cream
¾ cup sugar
cups whole milk
6 large egg yolks, lightly
beaten ¼ cup cornstarch
Pinch of kosher salt
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract ½ cup lilikoʻi (passion fruit) juice
To make the dough, in a bowl, combine both milks, the butter,
yeast, and 1 teaspoon sugar and whisk together. Let the mixture sit until the
yeast is activated and foamy, about 10 minutes.
In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment,
beat the eggs and the remaining ¾ cup sugar together on medium speed for 2 to 3
minutes, until light and fluffy. Turn the speed to low and incorporate the
flour and the milk mixture in four additions, alternating between wet and dry
ingredients. Add the salt and switch to the dough hook. Gradually turn the
speed up to medium-high and knead the dough until it’s smooth and pulls away
from the sides of the bowl, about 5 minutes. Turn the dough out onto a clean
work surface and quickly grease the mixer bowl with butter. Transfer the dough
back to the bowl, loosely cover with plastic wrap or a clean kitchen towel, and
set it in a warm place to rise until doubled in size, 1 to 2 hours.
Lightly grease a large piece of parchment paper and set it aside.
On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough ½ inch thick. Using a 3inch
biscuit cutter or 3-inch glass bowl, cut out as many rounds as you can,
gathering and reusing all the scraps. You should be able to make 20 to 24
rounds. Place them on the greased parchment paper, spacing them 3 inches apart.
Cover the rounds with a clean kitchen towel and let rise in a warm place until
doubled in size, about 1 hour.
Fill a shallow bowl with some sugar and set aside. Fill a wide Dutch
oven or other pot with 2 inches of oil. Heat the pot over medium heat
to 350°F. Alternatively, a deep fr yer can be used. Using
scissors, cut the greased parchment paper so that each malasada is on its own
square. Working in batches, place the malasadas in the oil, paper side up,
using tongs to peel off and discard the paper. Cook, flipping once, until
puffed and golden, 2 to 3 minutes on each side. Transfer to a wire rack set on
a baking sheet; let cool for 5 minutes, then toss with the sugar.
To make the pastr y cream, in a saucepan, combine ¼ cup of the
sugar and the milk and heat over medium heat for 2 to 3 minutes, until it
begins to steam. Immediately remove the pan from the heat. Meanwhile, in a
mixing bowl, whisk the remaining ½ cup sugar, egg yolks, cornstarch, and salt
together until smooth. Slowly ladle about ¼ cup of the hot milk mixture into
the egg yolks, whisking the entire time. Pour the tempered yolk mixture back
into the saucepan and cook, whisking continuously, until thick, 3 to 4 minutes.
Remove the saucepan from the heat and whisk in the butter, vanilla, and lilikoʻi juice; continue to whisk until smooth. Pour into
a medium glass bowl and cover with plastic wrap directly touching the surface
of the pastry cream. Set in a large bowl filled with ice water to cool.
Use a paring knife to cut a slit on one side into the middle of
the malasadas. Fill a pastr y bag fitted with a medium round tip halfway full
with pastr y cream. Pipe about 2 tablespoons of the filling into the slit in
the malasadas. Refill the bag when it runs low.
Ser ve immediately, as malasadas are best fresh. Any leftovers can
be stored in the refrigerator in a ziplock bag for up to 24 hours.
ON THE MENU:
Poi, this page
Pickled Onion, this page Local-Style
Fish, this page
GAU
Gau is a rich, sweet, and
sticky Chinese rice pudding that is a traditional Chinese New Year confection.
Found in Chinese bakeries, Asian markets, and local grocery stores, gau’s
texture is similar to that of Japanese mochi. The trick to this treat is in the
mixing, as you have to do it until no clumps remain! Gau is great with a cup of
tea and can be eaten with your hands, as long as you aren’t afraid to get a
little sticky!
Makes one 8-inch round
cups packed dark brown sugar
½ teaspoon kosher salt
2¼ cups water
One 1-pound box mochiko flour
(see this
page) 3 tablespoons neutral oil
Fill a large pot with 2 inches of water. Fit the pot with a
steamer basket and lid and bring the water to a simmer over medium heat. Line
an 8-inch round cake pan with parchment paper, crinkling the paper to fit into
the pan and up the sides. Place the round pan in the steamer basket and steam
the paper for a minute or so to soften it. Remove from the steamer basket and
gently press the paper into any remaining nooks and crannies that need to be
filled.
In a saucepan, combine the brown sugar, salt, and 2¼ cups water
and heat over medium-low heat for 2 to 3 minutes, until the mixture begins to
simmer. Remove from the heat. In a bowl, beat the mochiko and the sugar mixture
with a handheld electric mixer, on low speed, gradually increasing the speed to
high. Mix until smooth, about 2 minutes, then add the oil and mix on medium
speed until fully incorporated, about another minute. Pour the batter into the
parchment-lined pan and rap the pan on the counter a few times to bring the air
bubbles to the surface.
Carefully set the pan in the steamer basket and place a clean
kitchen towel between the basket and the lid. This will help to prevent any
condensation from dropping onto the gau’s surface while it steams. Steam until
the gau is cooked through and has completely set, 3 to 3½ hours, adding water
to the pot if it runs low. Let cool completely before ser ving.
Slice the gau into wedges. The texture should be soft and gooey.
It can be kept, covered in plastic wrap, at room temperature for up to 3 days.
The gau will continue to firm up the longer it sits.
ON THE MENU:
Shoyu ‘Ahi Poke, this page
Soy-Glazed Spam Musubi, this page Boiled
Peanuts, this page
GUAVA CAKE
I like my desserts light as
air and not too sweet, and this sheet cake fits the bill. It is great as a
snack cake or served at a potluck. Made with guava puree, it’s packed with
flavor without being cloyingly sweet the way guava jams and jellies sometimes
are. If you can’t find fresh guava puree, you can use frozen guava concentrate.
Just be sure that it’s made with 100 percent juice and doesn’t contain any
extra sugar. If you can’t find guava concentrate, you can make your own: boil 2
liters of 100 percent juice guava juice (Ceres is great) over high heat until
it’s reduced by more than half, about 40 minutes.
Makes 24 pieces
Cake
½ cups cake flour
2½ teaspoons baking powder ¾
teaspoon kosher salt
½ cup unsalted butter, at
room temperature 1¼ cups sugar
6 large egg whites ¼ cup
neutral oil 1 cup whole milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup guava puree or guava
concentrate 3 squeezes of red gel coloring (optional)
Frosting
cup heavy whipping cream
8 ounces cream cheese, at
room temperature ½ cup sugar
Pinch of kosher salt
2 squeezes of red gel food
coloring (optional) ½ cup guava puree or guava concentrate
To make the cake, preheat the oven to 350°F. Line a 9 by 13-inch
baking pan with parchment, leaving some overhang on the long sides.
In a bowl, combine the cake flour, baking powder, and kosher salt,
whisking until combined. In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment,
combine the butter and sugar and beat on medium speed until well combined,
about 3 minutes. Add the egg whites, in three additions, beating each addition
until well combined, about 1 minute. Add the oil and mix until combined, about
1 minute more. In a separate bowl, whisk together the milk, vanilla, guava
puree, and food coloring (if using). On low speed, alternate between adding the
wet and dr y ingredients, mixing each until combined before adding the next
addition.
Pour the mixture into the parchment-lined pan and bake until a
toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, 25 to 30 minutes. Let the
cake cool in the pan for 10 to 15 minutes before transferring it to a wire rack
to cool completely.
To make the frosting, in a stand mixer fitted with the whisk
attachment, whip the cream on medium speed for 1 to 2 minutes, until frothy.
Gradually increase the speed to high and whip until it’s light and fluffy with
stiff peaks, another 2 to 3 minutes. Don’t over whip! Transfer the whipped
cream to a bowl. Replace the bowl on the stand mixer and fit the machine with
the paddle attachment; there’s no need to clean the bowl. Place the cream cheese
in the bowl and mix on medium speed for 2 to 3 minutes, until smooth. Add the
sugar and kosher salt and increase the speed to high. Beat until light and
fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Lower the speed to medium and add the food coloring, if
desired. Gradually pour in the guava puree in four additions, making sure the
puree is fully incorporated after every addition. Scrape down the sides with a
rubber spatula after the second and the final addition. Increase the speed to
high and beat until smooth and well incorporated, 1 to 2 minutes. Remove the
bowl
from the stand and, using the spatula, fold in the whipped cream
in three additions, incorporating completely after each addition.
Spread the frosting on the cooled cake, using an offset spatula to
smooth it over the edges, and chill for at least 2 hours before ser ving. Cut
into twenty-four pieces and ser ve immediately.
ON THE MENU:
Cone Sushi, this page Somen Salad, this
page Teriyaki Beef Sticks, this page
SWEET BREAD ROLLS
Nowadays, sweet bread is closely
associated with Hawai‘i. While the most famous sweet bread might be King’s
Hawaiian, each island has its own local, favorite sweet bread spot. However, no
matter what island you’re on, all sweet bread originated from pمo doce, or Portuguese sweet bread. Light, sweet, and
so fluffy, this bread is great spread with butter and jam in the morning,
served alongside Portuguese Bean Soup (this page), or turned
into mini Kālua Pig (this page) sandwiches.
Makes 12 rolls
¼ cups bread flour 3
tablespoons potato flour 1 teaspoon kosher salt
Two 0.25-ounce packages
active dr y yeast (4½ teaspoons total) ⅓cup water, warmed (100° to 110°F), plus 1 teaspoon ¼ cup whole
milk, warmed (100° to 110°F) ½ cup sugar
3 large eggs, 1 separated 1
teaspoon vanilla extract
6 tablespoons unsalted
butter, at room temperature
In a bowl, whisk 2¾ cups of the bread flour, the potato flour, and
salt together and set aside.
Remove the bowl of your stand mixer and combine the
remaining ½ cup bread flour with the active dr y yeast and warm water, mixing
it well with a wooden spoon. Mix until the mixture comes together and most of
the dr y bits are incorporated—it’s okay if it looks a litte dr y. Let the
mixture rest for 45 minutes at room temperature, uncovered.
Return your stand mixer bowl to the mixer fitted with the paddle
attachment. Turn the speed to low and add the milk, sugar, 2 eggs and 1 egg
yolk, the vanilla, and butter—in that order—mixing until well combined, about 2
minutes. Turn off the mixer and change the attachment to the dough hook,
scraping the paddle attachment clean. Turn the speed to low and add the dry
ingredients, slowly increasing the speed to medium. Once combined, knead the
dough on medium speed until the dough is smooth, about 5 minutes. Turn the
dough out onto a clean surface and form into a ball. Clean the bowl and coat it
lightly with neutral oil. Place the dough back in the bowl, turning once to
coat both sides. Cover the bowl with a clean kitchen towel or plastic wrap and
let rest in a warm spot until the dough has doubled in size, 1½ to 2 hours.
Lightly grease a 9 by 13-inch baking pan with neutral oil. Lightly
punch down the dough and divide it into twelve equal pieces. Roll each piece
into a ball and evenly space them in the pan. Cover the pan with the clean
kitchen towel or lightly greased plastic wrap and let rise until doubled and
puffy, 1 to 1½ hours.
Halfway through the rising time, preheat the oven to 350°F. In a
small bowl, whisk the remaining egg white with the remaining 1 teaspoon water
to make an egg-white wash. Brush the tops of the rolls with the egg-white wash,
then bake until browned and cooked through, 20 to 25 minutes. If you have an
instant-read thermometer, it should register 190°F when inserted into the middle
of a roll. Let cool in the pan for 5 minutes before turning out onto a wire
rack. Ser ve Warm. Leftover rolls can be stored in an airtight container at
room temperature for 3 to 4 days.
ON THE MENU: Kālua Pig, this page
Side salad with Creamy Asian Dressing,
this page Sweet Potato Haupia Bars, this page
SNACKS
(‘Ai Māmā)
Seemingly unrelated, these
dishes all have one thing in common: they can be enjoyed on the go, while
watching the nightly news, or beachside at sunset. Most of these foods can be
paired perfectly with an ice-cold beverage, and all of them are great for
snacking. Pickled Mango (this
page), Li Hing Gummy Bears (this page), and Prune Mui (this page)
all have that sweet-sour-salty thing going on, while the rest of the snacks in
this chapter will satisfy your saltysavory cravings.
PICKLED MANGO
Every year, from late winter
to early spring, the lush green mango trees are suddenly covered in blossoms.
And that means just one thing: mango season is nearly here. Still, it feels
like an eternity before those flowers transform into fruit, and it seems to
take double that time for the fruit to ripen enough to perfume the air with its
sweet aroma. That’s where pickled mango comes in. Firm and unripe green mangoes
are perfect for this dish, as long as they have firm, yellow flesh. Rapoza,
Pirie, Haden, or any other variety of mango you can get your hands on will
work. But don’t use a ripe mango, as it won’t yield that perfectly crunchy
texture for the sweet-and-salty five-spice-laden pickle locals crave all year.
Just ask anyone—even the thought of these mango slices makes the mouth water!
Makes ½ gallon
cup water
¾ cup rice vinegar
¼ cup apple cider vinegar ⅔cup sugar
1 tablespoon red li hing
powder (see this
page) 1 teaspoon Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
2 large unripe, green mangoes
10 to 15 red li hing mui (see this page)
In a small nonreactive saucepan, combine the water with both
vinegars, the sugar, red li hing powder, and salt and bring to a boil. When the
sugar and salt have dissolved, remove the pan from the heat and let cool to
room temperature.
Peel the mangoes using a vegetable peeler. If your mango is too
soft to peel with the peeler, that means it’s too soft to pickle; you need to
use firm, unripe, green mangoes for this. Slice the mangoes into ¾inch strips,
carefully avoiding the seed in the middle and separating as much fruit from the
seed as possible. Place the mango slices into a ½-gallon glass jar, layering in
li hing mui as you go. Set aside.
Pour the cooled vinegar mixture over the mango slices and cover
the jar with a lid. Store in the refrigerator for 3 days before ser ving. If
stored in an airtight container, it will keep refrigerated for several weeks.
Note: You can omit the li hing mui and li hing powder if you’d
like, but I’d recommend adding an extra tablespoon of sugar if you do.
ON THE MENU:
Boiled Peanuts, this page Pipi Kaula,
this page
Hurricane Popcorn, this page
MANAPUA
Manapua, Hawaiʻi’s version
of a Chinese char siu bao (steamed pork bun), is one of my favorite snacks. How
it came to be known as the manapua is a story worth sharing. The name comes
from the Hawaiian phrase “mea ʻono puaʻa,” which
loosely translates to “delicious pork thing.” How can you not love a delicious
pork thing? Typically steamed, you can also find baked versions. My favorite
manapua comes from Char Hung Sut on North Pauahi Street in Chinatown on the
island of Oʻahu. The giant manapua have the perfect bao (bun), both pillowy
and chewy, and are very generously filled with the best char siu. This is my
take on their classic.
Makes 12 manapua
Bun (Bao)
¾ cup water, warmed (100° to
110°F) 1¼ cups whole milk, warmed (100° to 110°F)
Two 0.25-ounce packages
active dr y yeast (4½ teaspoons total) 1 teaspoon sugar, plus ¾ cup
4 cups all-purpose flour,
plus more as needed 2 cups cake flour
½ teaspoon kosher salt ⅓cup neutral oil
Filling
½ pounds Char Siu Pork (this page), minced ½ cup water
2 teaspoons cornstarch 2
teaspoons all-purpose flour 1 tablespoon sugar
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
To make the dough, combine the water, milk, yeast, and 1 teaspoon
sugar in a bowl and whisk together. Let the mixture sit until the yeast is
activated and foamy, about 10 minutes.
In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the dough hook, combine
both flours, the salt, and the remaining ¾ cup sugar. Mix the dr y ingredients
together on low speed. Keep the mixer running and slowly pour in the yeast
mixture followed by the oil. Increase the speed to medium and knead the dough
until it is smooth and pulls away from the sides of the bowl, 5 to 7 minutes.
If it does not start to pull away from the sides, add more flour, a tablespoon
or two at a time. Turn the dough out onto a clean work surface quickly so that
you can oil your stand mixer bowl. Transfer the dough back into the oiled bowl,
flipping once to coat both sides, and cover the bowl loosely with plastic wrap
or a clean kitchen towel. Let the dough rise until doubled in size, 1 to 2
hours.
While the dough is rising, cut twelve 4-inch squares of parchment
paper for the bottom of the manapua.
To make the filling, put the char siu in a bowl. In a small
saucepan, whisk together the water, cornstarch, all-purpose flour, sugar, and
salt and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Turn the heat to low and simmer
for 1 minute, whisking continuously. Remove from the heat and pour over the
char siu. Stir with a wooden spoon or toss with your hands to evenly coat the meat
with the sauce.
Turn the dough out onto a clean work surface and divide it into
twelve equal pieces. Transfer all but one piece back to the bowl, covering them
with plastic wrap or a kitchen towel. Roll the piece of dough into a ball
before flattening into a pancake with the palm of your hand. Use a rolling pin
to roll the edges of the pancake out to a 5-inch round; you want the center of
the dough to be a bit thicker—it should look like a little bump. This will help
give the manapua a uniform thickness on the top and bottom. Add about ¼ cup
filling to the center of the round, then bring the edges up and around the
filling,
pinching them together to seal in the filling. With the seam side
down and your hand in a cupping motion, gently roll the manapua into a ball
with a few circular motions. Place the round ball, seam side down, on one of
the precut parchment squares. Cover the ball with a clean kitchen towel and
repeat until all the dough has been used. Let the dough rise for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, bring a large pot of water to boil with the lid on. Set
a steamer basket over it and turn the heat to low, keeping the water at a
simmer. Place the manapua with the parchment squares in the basket, spacing
them about an inch apart. If you are using a metal steamer or a glass lid,
place a clean kitchen towel between the basket and the lid to capture the
condensation. Steam until the buns are light and fluffy, 15 to 20 minutes; they
should be touching or almost touching. Transfer to a wire rack, cover with a clean
towel, and let cool for 5 to 10 minutes before serving.
Store leftovers in a ziplock bag in the refrigerator or freezer.
To reheat, simply wrap in a damp paper towel and microwave for 30 seconds or
resteam them in a steamer basket for 10 minutes, until heated through.
ON THE MENU: Chow Fun, this page
Shoyu Chicken, this page Shave Ice, this
page
PIPI KAULA
Hawaiʻi’s history
of ranching dates back to the 1830s, when Mexican cowboys came to help manage
the islands’ wild cattle problem. The Hawaiians took quickly to the culture of
ranching, and so emerged the Hawaiian paniolo (cowboy). Pipi kaula is a dish
that came from this ranching culture. Back in the day, salted beef strips were
dried in the sun, while today, thanks to modern technology, they can be made
indoors. Think of it as Hawaiian beef jerky, with a bit of local flavor in the
form of soy sauce (shoyu), sesame oil, and sugar.
Serves 4 to 6
½ cup soy sauce (shoyu) 2
tablespoons rice vinegar 1 teaspoon sesame oil
1 teaspoon Hawaiian salt
(‘alaea) 3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper 1 garlic clove, peeled and finely minced or grated 1 Hawaiian
chili pepper (nīoi), crushed 1½ pounds flank steak, cut into 2-inch-wide strips
Neutral oil, for fr ying
In a bowl, whisk the soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, salt,
sugar, black pepper, garlic, and chili pepper to form a marinade. Place the
meat in a gallon-size ziplock bag or a baking dish and pour the marinade over.
Seal the bag or cover the dish and refrigerate for at least 8 hours, preferably
overnight.
Preheat the oven to 175°F. Set a wire rack on a rimmed baking
sheet lined with aluminum foil and set the strips of meat on the rack. Bake
until the meat has a chewy texture, similar to a jerky, about 5
hours. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.
Set a skillet over medium heat and add a teaspoon of neutral oil.
Fr y until the meat is heated through, 2 to 3 minutes on each side. Cut into
small pieces and ser ve warm.
ON THE MENU:
Boiled
Peanuts, this page Pickled Mango, this page Shoyu ‘Ahi Poke, this page
BAKED TARO AND SWEET POTATO CHIPS
Nutty, sweet, and salty, the
combination of taro and sweet potato is almost addictive. Baked instead of
fried, these chips are the perfect paring with a pau hana (work is over) mai
tai or beer. And you’ll be amazed by how quick and easy they are to pull
together! Eat them as a snack with some Pickled Mango (this page) or Prune Mui (this page),
or use them as a vehicle for Shoyu ‘Ahi Poke (this page)—think fancy appetizer. No matter how you choose to serve
them, you won’t be disappointed.
Serves 4 to 6
large taro (kalo) root (2 to
3 pounds), cleaned and peeled 2 large Okinawan sweet potatoes (1½ pounds),
cleaned and peeled Olive oil, for drizzling
Kosher salt and freshly
ground black pepper
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Using a mandoline or sharp knife,
thinly slice the taro root and sweet potatoes into thin rounds—as thin as
possible. Evenly drizzle two large rimmed baking sheets with olive oil and
arrange the rounds on the sheets, the taro on one sheet and the sweet potato on
the other, in a single layer. Season with salt and pepper, then evenly drizzle
olive oil over the rounds. Bake for 20 minutes, until crisp and golden,
flipping the slices halfway through the baking time. Serve warm or let cool to
room temperature. The chips will keep in an airtight container at room
temperature for up to 2 days.
ON THE MENU: Lumpia (this page)
Cone Sushi (this page)
Save Ice (this page)
LI HING GUMMY BEARS
If you’ve ever had sticky li
hing gummy bears, you’ll know that it’s a snack that’s hard to quit. What you
might not realize is how easy it is to make your own. The secret? Li hing sauce
is actually made with just a little warm water. So simple—try it for yourself!
Makes 1 pound
pound gummy bears ½ cup warm
water (85°F)
1 tablespoon red li hing
powder (see this
page)
Place the gummy bears in a colander and pour the warm water over
them. Gently toss to evenly disperse the water. The gummy bears should make
their own “sauce.” Immediately sprinkle the li hing powder onto the bears and
transfer to an airtight container to store up to 6 months.
Note: Li hing powder is also great sprinkled on fresh fruits,
like sliced pineapple, orange wedges, and sliced mango!
ON THE MENU:
Boiled Peanuts, this page Prune Mui, this
page
Hurricane Popcorn, this page
BOILED PEANUTS
Usually found alongside poke
counters, boiled peanuts are the ultimate pau hana (work is over) snack. My mom
says they were made for beer. Back in the day, they were sold in brown paper
bags, but now they’re usually packaged in plastic bags. To make your own, look
for raw shellon peanuts at an Asian market or order them on Amazon.
Makes 2 pounds
pounds raw shell-on peanuts 4
quarts water
⅓cup Hawaiian salt (‘alaea) 2 whole star anise
Place the peanuts in a colander and rinse well; you may need to do
this in two batches. Meanwhile, combine the water, salt, and star anise in a
large pot and give the pot a quick swirl to combine ever ything. Add the rinsed
peanuts to the pot and place a large bowl filled with water (if necessar y)
over the peanuts to weigh them down. Soak the peanuts in the salt solution at
room temperature for 24 hours.
Remove the bowl and bring the pot to a boil over high heat. Once
it is boiling, turn the heat to medium-low and cover the pot with a lid. Simmer
for up to 2 hours; you can start checking the doneness of your peanuts after an
hour. To do so, simply remove a peanut from the water and let it cool slightly
before shelling and eating. If it’s tender with a little crunch, it’s done.
When the peanuts are cooked, remove the pot from the heat and take
off the lid. Let the peanuts cool in the solution for 1 hour before draining
them into a colander. Serve the peanuts warm or let cool to
room temperature, then transfer to a ziplock plastic bag and chill
in the refrigerator. They will keep refrigerated for up to 5 days.
ON THE MENU:
Pickled Mango, this page Hurricane
Popcorn, this page
Baked Taro and Sweet Potato Chips, this
page
HURRICANE POPCORN
The one thing I really miss
about Hawaiian movie theaters is the ability to eat arare (mochi crunch or
Japanese rice crackers) in the auditorium. The distinct smell and loud crunch
of the crackers is hard to disguise, and while I’ve tried once or twice in LA
to sneak them in, my seatmates are always quick to turn and stare. Hurricane
popcorn is both arare and popcorn, boosted with furikake and lots of butter.
When purchasing arare, look for Tomoe brand, the one in the yellow bag. The
secret to this popcorn is the browned butter; without it, you’re left with
soggy popcorn!
Serves 2 to 4
tablespoons salted butter
8 to 9 cups freshly popped
popcorn (about ⅓cup unpopped
kernels) ¼ cup nori komi furikake (see this page)
1 cup mochi crunch or
Japanese rice crackers (arare)
Melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Cook
the butter until it becomes foamy, then turn the heat to medium-low and let it
simmer and bubble for 2 to 3 minutes, until the bubbling stops. At this point,
you should see lightly browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Drizzle the
butter, being careful to avoid pouring out the browned bits, over the popped
popcorn. Sprinkle with the furikake and toss with the arare. Hurricane Popcorn
is best eaten the same day.
ON THE MENU: Pickled Mango, this page
Prune Mui, this page
Baked Taro and Sweet Potato Chips, this
page
PRUNE MUI
Sweet and sour, and
definitely a bit sticky, prune mui is a unique treat. Made with preserved
fruits, li hing powder, and a combination of spices, lemon juice, and sugar,
this snack is one of my personal favorites. This recipe yields a large batch,
making it ideal for preparing during the holiday season to give as gifts. It
takes about a week for the mixture to be ready to consume, so plan ahead.
Makes 1 gallon
pounds dark brown sugar
1½ cups fresh lemon juice
(about 8 lemons) 3 tablespoons whiskey
1½ teaspoons Chinese
five-spice powder 2 tablespoons red li hing powder (see this page) 3 tablespoons Hawaiian salt (‘alaea) ½ teaspoon whole
cloves
3 ounces red li hing mui (see
this page)
5 pounds dried fruit of your
choice (such as pitted prunes, dried apricots, dried tart cherries, dried
cranberries)
In a large pot, combine the brown sugar, lemon juice, whiskey,
fivespice powder, li hing powder, salt, and whole cloves, mixing with a wooden
spoon to combine. Heat over medium-low heat until the sugar dissolves. Remove
from the heat and let cool for 10 minutes. Add the li hing mui and the dried
fruit and mix well with a wooden spoon to evenly coat the fruit. Transfer to
two ½-gallon jars (or multiple smaller jars), packing the fruit tightly.
Disperse the extra syrup evenly among the jars and let cool completely before
covering the jars tightly with their lids.
Let the fruit sit in the jars in a cool, dr y, dark place for 1
week, shaking and rotating the jars daily. The fruit will be soft and sticky
when it’s ready to ser ve. Ser ve a small amount in a bowl and use
your fingers or chopsticks to eat it. Store in an airtight container in the
refrigerator for up to 1 month.
ON THE MENU:
Hurricane Popcorn, this page Boiled
Peanuts, this page Li Hing Gummy Bears, this page
DRINKS
(Pau Hana)
Pau hana (work is over) is an
important part of the day for locals. It’s the time after work or
school when family and friends take a break so they can unwind, relax, and
enjoy the moment together. While most of the drinks in this chapter are
nonalcoholic, feel free to add your favorite spirit to liven them up, or check
out the Mai Tai (this
page).
POG
Passion orange guava (POG)
juice is a drink that locals are very fond of. It’s ubiquitous, so much so that
I never thought of it as just a Hawai‘i thing. I grew up drinking Meadow Gold
POG, the one in the bright orange carton, at home, and cans of Hawaiian Sun’s
Pass-o-Guava after soccer games, at potlucks, or at the beach. You can imagine
my surprise freshman year of college in San Diego when there was no POG to be
found. I recently tried POG for the first time in years and was blown away by
how sweet it is. This is my take on a slightly less sweet, but still very
POG-y, POG. The optional lime juice adds a bright tartness that really jazzes
everything up.
Serves 4
½ cups guava juice, or ¾ cup
guava puree plus ¾ cup water 1½ cups lilikoʻi (passion fruit) juice
1 cup fresh orange juice
¼ cup fresh lime juice
(optional) ¼ cup 1:1 Simple Syrup (this page) Ice, for
ser ving
Orange slices, for garnish
Combine the guava juice, lilikoʻi juice, orange juice, lime juice (if using), and simple syrup in
a large glass measuring cup or bowl. Whisk together and serve over ice. Garnish
each glass with an orange slice.
PLANTATION ICED TEA
Similar to a sweet tea or an
Arnold Palmer, plantation iced tea is essentially a blend of iced tea and, most
commonly, pineapple juice. While typically made with black tea and sweetened
with simple syrup, green tea and ginger simple syrup brighten up this
plantation erainspired classic.
Serves 4
cups freshly brewed green
tea, at room temperature ⅓cup fresh
pineapple juice
¼ cup Ginger Simple Syrup (this page) ¼ cup fresh lime juice
Ice, for ser ving
Fresh mint sprigs, for
garnish Pineapple wedges, for garnish
Combine the green tea, pineapple juice, simple syrup, and lime
juice in a large glass measuring cup or bowl and whisk together. Cover the cup
or bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate until cold, about 1 hour. Ser ve over
ice and garnish each glass with mint and a pineapple wedge.
FRUIT PUNCH
Growing up, I was like every
kid of the 1990s. When the Hawaiian Punch commercial came on TV, I was sold.
Never mind our access to fresh fruit juices—no, no, I needed Hawaiian Punch.
And while I pleaded and begged for it, I am glad to have also found this fruit
punch. Made with (mostly) fresh juices, this is a Hawaiian punch I can get
behind.
Serves 4 to 6
cup guava juice, or ½ cup
fresh guava puree plus ½ cup water 1 cup fresh pineapple juice
1 cup fresh orange juice 1
cup lilikoʻi (passion fruit) juice ¼ cup
fresh lime juice
½ cup strawberr y juice
½ cup 1:1 Simple Syrup (this page) Orange slices, for garnish
Combine the guava juice, pineapple juice, orange juice, lilikoʻi juice, lime juice, strawberr y juice, and simple
syrup in a large glass measuring cup or bowl. Whisk together and ser ve over
ice. Garnish each glass with an orange slice.
:1 SIMPLE SYRUP Makes 1 cup
This is something I always
keep on hand. It’s great for everything from iced tea to cocktails. Called
“simple” for a reason, it’s made with equal parts of sugar and water. What
makes it so great is that it evenly sweetens your drinks without any grittiness
from the sugar.
1 cup sugar 1 cup water
In a saucepan, combine the sugar and water. Bring to a boil over
medium-high heat, stirring with a wooden spoon to dissolve the sugar. The
liquid should go from cloudy to clear. Remove from the heat and let cool
completely before using. Store the syrup in an airtight container in the
refrigerator for up to 1 month.
GINGER SIMPLE SYRUP
Makes 1 cup
A variation on classic 1:1
Simple Syrup, this is my go-to for adding a little extra kick to my drinks.
1 cup granulated sugar 1 cup
filtered water
One 1-inch piece fresh
ginger, peeled and thinly sliced
In a saucepan, combine the sugar, water, and ginger. Bring to a
boil over medium-high heat, stirring with a wooden spoon to dissolve the sugar.
The liquid should go from cloudy to clear. Remove from the heat and let steep
for about 1 hour before removing the ginger. Store the syrup in an airtight
container in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.
HONEY SYRUP Makes 2 cups
Like 1:1 Simple Syrup, honey syrup calls for equal parts of honey
and water. It’s a great way to impart the complex flavors of honey—floral,
nutty, and even earthy notes—into your drinks or cocktails without worrying
about clumpy bits of honey floating around!
1 cup honey
1 cup boiling hot water
In a bowl, whisk the honey and boiling water together until
combined. Let cool completely before transferring the syrup to an airtight
container. Store in the refrigerator for up to 1 month.
MAI TAI
An iconic tiki beverage, the
mai tai is commonly associated with Hawai‘i, despite its California origin.
Whether you believe Don the Beachcomber or Trader Vic invented the drink, its
strong tie to the islands remains. If you’ve ordered them in the past, chances
are you’ve had varied experiences, ranging from great to terrible and everything
in between.
Rather than leave it to
chance, I enlisted the help of one of Hawai‘i’s most decorated bartenders,
two-time “World’s Best Mai Tai” champion, 2014 “Shake It Up!” Cocktail
Competition winner, and US representative for the IBA World Cocktail
Competition Justin Park of Bar Leather Apron in Honolulu, O‘ahu. This is his
take on a classic mai tai, where he forgoes the traditional floating of the
rums to create a wellbalanced cocktail that’s great from start to finish.
Serves 1
Ice
2 ounces dark molasses rum
(like El Dorado 8-Year Demerara Rum) 1 ounce light pure cane rum (like Batiste
Rhum Ecoiste) ½ ounce Honey Syrup (this page)
½ ounce orgeat syrup (Small
Hand Foods and Liquid Alchemist are great options) ¾ ounce fresh lime juice
Spritz of Angostura bitters
(use an atomizer or spray bottle) Lime wheel, for garnish
Fill a double old-fashioned glass with ice and set it aside to
chill. In a cocktail shaker with ice, combine both rums, the honey syrup,
orgeat syrup, and lime juice. Shake. Strain into the ice-filled glass. Evenly
spritz the top of the drink with bitters and garnish with a lime
wheel before severing.
BARTENDER’S NOTE
When it comes to mai tai, or
any cocktail for that matter, the number-one thing to focus on is balance. What
I enjoy about a mai tai is the ability to taste all the ingredients
individually, while the overall flavor in the finish of the cocktail is very
harmonious. For example, the rum is present, but only enough to give you a
taste. Then comes the back and forth of citrus and sweet, but the finish is
everything at once. I am not sure if this is making sense, but it is how I go
about creating a cocktail.
When you look at what is
known as the 1944 original mai tai from Trader Vic’s, you see this recipe:
1 ounce lime juice, ½ ounce
orange Curaçao, ¼ ounce orgeat syrup, ¼ ounce 1:1 Simple Syrup, 1 ounce aged
Jamaican rum, 1 ounce aged Martinique agricole rhum
The short story is the
cocktail contains two parts spirit, one part sweet, and one part citrus. I know
this may be getting boring, but it’s an easy way to understand how to start
when making a mai tai at home. Take the three elements and replace a sweet for
a sweet, or a different citrus for a citrus. Try different types of rum.
—Justin Park
SAUCES
I consider these recipes to be
proverbial workhorses in that they all function in more than one way. You can
finish a salad with Creamy Asian Dressing (this page), but you can also drizzle it over
your Mochiko Chicken (this page) or dip your
Chicken Katsu (this page) into it. The
Dynamite Sauce (this page) is great with
everything from Spam Fried Rice (this page) to
Maui-Style Kalbi Short Ribs (this page). Get
creative with these sauces; they’re made to do double duty.
DYNAMITE SAUCE
Drizzle this on everything
from Mochiko Chicken (this
page) to Beef Chili (this page)—don’t knock it ‘til you try it! This Japanese sauce was
made for just about everything.
Makes about ½ cup
½ cup Best Foods (or
Hellmann’s) mayonnaise 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
1½ teaspoons sugar 1½
teaspoons sriracha
1 tablespoon smelt roe
(masago)
In a small bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, rice vinegar,
sugar, and sriracha. Gently mix in the smelt roe. Transfer to a jar with a lid
and store in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.
CREAMY ASIAN DRESSING
My friend Kammy and her
husband have a mochiko chicken cone business. I dream about the secret creamy
dressing they drizzle on their mochiko chicken. This dressing tastes close to
theirs and is great for drizzling, dipping, or dressing a salad.
Makes 1 cup
½ cup Best Foods (or
Hellmann’s) mayonnaise 1 tablespoon soy sauce (shoyu)
2 tablespoons rice vinegar ⅛teaspoon sesame oil 3 tablespoons
sugar
1 tablespoon toasted sesame
seeds
In a bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, soy sauce, rice vinegar,
sesame oil, sugar, and sesame seeds until the consistency is thick like honey.
Transfer to a jar with a lid and refrigerate for 2 hours. Let the dressing sit
at room temperature for about 15 minutes before using. Store in the
refrigerator for up to 1 week.
PAPAYA SEED DRESSING
This is a multipurpose
dressing and sauce, and what I love about this one is its complexity: it has a
buttery sweetness, thanks to the papaya, but with the kick of mustard and lime
and a touch of texture from the addition of the seeds. It can be used much like
Dynamite Sauce (this
page) and Creamy Asian Dressing (this page), on everything from salads to chicken.
Makes about ½ cup
Flesh and seeds from 1 ripe
Solo papaya (see this
page) 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
½ teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 shallot, peeled and finely
chopped ¼ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper 1 tablespoon sugar
¼ cup neutral oil
In a blender, combine the flesh and seeds of the papaya with the
lime juice, Dijon mustard, shallot, salt, pepper, sugar, and oil and process on
high speed for 1½ to 2 minutes, until smooth. Use right away, or transfer to an
airtight jar or bottle and store in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.
LILIKOʻ
I VINAIGRETTE
Sweet, tart, and fragrant,
this vinaigrette livens up even the dullest of salads.
Makes about ½ cup
¼ cup lilikoʻi (passion fruit) pulp (see this page) 2 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard 1
tablespoon sugar
¼ cup neutral oil or olive
oil ¼ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper
In a blender, combine the lilikoʻi pulp with the rice vinegar, mustard, sugar, oil,
salt, antd pepper and process on high speed for 2 to 3 minutes, until smooth.
Use right away, or transfer to an airtight jar or bottle and store in the
refrigerator for up to 1 week.
GUAVA DRESSING
Quick, easy to make, but most
of all delicious, this dressing is great on salads but also doubles as a
marinade for chicken!
Makes about ½ cup
¼ cup guava juice
2 tablespoons red wine
vinegar 1 tablespoon minced Maui onion 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard ¼ cup neutral
oil or olive oil ¼ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper
In a blender, combine the guava juice with the vinegar, onion,
mustard, oil, salt, and pepper and process on high speed for 1 to 2 minutes,
until smooth. Use right away, or transfer to an airtight jar or bottle and
store in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.
CHILI PEPPER WATER
You can’t walk into a local
restaurant without the familiar sight of chili pepper water. It’s usually in a
repurposed ketchup bottle, or something similar, and is the local answer to
Tabasco.
Makes 10 ounces
cup water
¼ cup rice vinegar
1 teaspoon Hawaiian salt (‘alaea)
1 garlic clove, peeled and smashed
4 Hawaiian chili peppers
(nīoi), 2 finely chopped and 2 left whole
In a small saucepan over medium-high heat, combine the water with
the vinegar, salt, garlic, and chili peppers and bring to a boil. Remove from
the heat and let cool completely before transferring it to an airtight jar. Let
sit in the refrigerator for 2 days before using so that the flavors meld. Store
in the refrigerator for up to 1 month.
MAHALO
To each and ever y person who helped make this book possible, let
me start with mahalo, or thank you. And then add about one hundred more
thank-yous to that. Without each and ever y one of you, this book would not
have happened.
Ten Speed Press, you guys are my dream come true. I’m so grateful
to all of you for rallying behind this book from the start and for shepherding
it out into the world. Kelly Snowden, I feel lucky to have an editor like you
for a book like this. Thank you for all your guidance, your patience, your wit,
and for believing in this book as much as I do. This book is as much mine as it
is yours, and I hope you love the end result as much as I do. And mahalo for
all the laughs along the way. Emma Campion and Annie Marino, thank you for your
magnanimous flexibility, your trained eyes, and your trust. Ashley Pierce, you
were a joy to work with and I appreciated each and every note you sprinkled
into the edits and queries! To Windy Dorresteyn, Alison Renzulli, Kristin
Casemore, Jane Chinn, Kathy Brock, and Sharon Silva, mahalo, mahalo, mahalo.
Joan Kysar, I couldn’t have written even a page of this book
without you. Thank you for being my #1 recipe tester; I know that it was not a
responsibility you took lightly, and your notes were invaluable. Each recipe is
better because you made it better. Also, your mochiko chicken will for-ever be
better than mine, no matter how many times I make it, so please know that I
will never stop asking for it.
Mitch Kysar, you taught me how to appreciate all aspects of food.
You helped me build a somewhat discerning palate while showing me how beautiful
food can be. While I may have led you to believe the
opposite, especially during my teen years, I’m grateful for ever
ything you’ve taught me. Thank you for lending a sympathetic ear during this
book-writing process, reading all my rough drafts, and for always supplying the
wine-down.
Moses Aipa, I know it’s been a struggle watching me tear the
kitchen, dining room, living room, and office apart while creating this book. I
appreciate your patience, and I thank you for all those times you washed the
dishes when I was too tired to even look at them. Thank you for your guidance,
for your art direction, and your creativity. You are the best hand model! Thank
you for coming to Hawai‘i every time I needed to research or shoot something
for this book. And thank you for designing this beautiful book with Emma and
Annie.
Vienna Sausage, thank you for forcing me to get outside ever y
three to four hours. For demanding sun breaks. For the countless snuggles, for
licking away my tears of frustration after the fifth round of sweetbread
testing, for always being around, and for listening to my terrible singing day
in and out. You are the best dog a girl could ask for.
To the Aipa and Ishimaru ohana: Hilar y, Nathan, Lena, Isaiah, Har
vey, Mari, Daniel, Jonah, Kristie, Bert, and Shelbie. Mahalo for all the love
and support throughout this process. Mahalo for being so generous with your
knowledge, time, and for teaching me how special an imu really is. Mahalo for
putting together the most magical lū‘au imaginable and for somehow making that
gorgeous sunset appear. And mahalo for sharing your Moses with me.
To my super-hero of an agent, Nicole Tourtelot, you are the real
deal. I can’t imagine any part of this journey without you. You made every step
as easy as possible and did it with so much style and grace.
Brooklyn Dombroski, hi. You are insanely talented and I am so
lucky to call you my friend. Thank you for all the beautiful moments you
captured. I love looking at Hawai‘i through your lens. Thank you for agreeing
to work on this book with me.
Justin Park, you are one of the most gracious and kindhearted
people out there—not to mention, one of the most talented. Thank you for being
my boss way back when and for contributing such a pivotal recipe to this book.
Cheers to many more years of friendship!
Jordan Higa, thank you for working your magic and bringing the
produce and map to life! That extra bit of illo POP pulled everything together
and I'm so grateful you came on board!
Onaona Thoene, it seems like you have seen me through it all and
have made me better every step of the way. Thank you for taking the time to
make this book the best it can be.
Lily Diamond, I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you for
being my biggest cheerleader, for guiding me through the book process, from
start to finish, and for always believing in this book and well, me!
To ever yone who came for ‘ohana dinners, you guys are forever
ohana now! Mahalo to the Ruffing ‘ohana, the Musser ‘ohana, Dane Stor y, the
Christensen ‘ohana, Valerie Shagday, Jesson Duller, Christina Laguens, Chase
Wayton, Morgan Suzuki, Tiffany Tse, Eric Ideta, the Meinel ‘ohana, Mikey
Jergentz, Nicole Tourtelot, and Tremaine Tucker for hanging out, tr ying the
goods, the not quite there yet, and for keeping me company.
To the Kido ‘ohana, I couldn’t have dreamed up a more perfect
location and day for our lū‘au. Thank you. And to Onaona Thoene, Brooklyn
Dombroski, Kaiwi Berr y, Johnson Young, the Kysar ‘ohana, the Pascher ‘ohana,
the Rose + Fisher ‘ohana, Kaimana Plemer, Kim Shibata, Jade Snow (you were
there in spirit), the Kaneshiro ‘ohana, the Ishimaru ‘ohana, and, of course, the
Aipa ‘ohana, thank you for making the trek out to the North Shore and for
sharing that special Januar y day with us. To the Snow ‘ohana for opening up
your home to us, mahalo.
To my SLAMM tribe—Lily Diamond, Molly Yeh, Michelle Lopez, and
Stephanie Le—you got me through so many unknowns (I’m sorr y for asking soooo
many questions), built me up, and kept me sane. You guys are my rocks, my
heroes, and an endless source of inspiration. Love you ladies to pieces.
To my LA ohana—Jackie, Bob, Wyatt, Mason, Diera, and Jared— mahalo
for the love you’ve shown us over the years and a special thank-you for the
extra love you’ve given this book.
To my generous recipe testers—Joan Kysar, Molly Yeh, Michelle
Lopez, Sara Tan Christensen, Diera Stor y, Lily Diamond, Jackie Ruffing,
Jennifer Yee, and Natasha Feldman—mahalo for your invaluable input and for
putting in all that time!
To all the wonderful brands that I worked with to build this book,
your pieces are loved, your product is valued, and I am a huge fan of all of
you. Mahalo to Meredith Bradford of the Zwilling Group, Julia Lemke of Earthen,
Shawn Kam of Luvhaus, Karina Subijana of Altar Ceramics, Justin Caraco
Ceramics, Tina Huang of Ren•Vois, Margaux Gonyea at Williams Sonoma, Nate Volk
and Brandon at Pacific
Helicopter Tours, Lindsey Ozawa at Kāko'o 'Ōiwi, and Melissa’s
Produce.
To the incredible community of bloggers who have encouraged,
guided, and totally inspired me throughout the years—Gaby Dalkin, Shelly
Westerhausen, Kristan Raines, Lyndsay Sung, Adrianna Adarme, Billy Green, Sarah
Menanix, Alanna Taylor-Tobin, Betty Liu, Erin Clarkson, Haley Hunt Davis, Emily
Stoffel, Lindsey Love, Courtney Chun, Sherrie Castellano, Cynthia Chen
McTernan, Cindy Ensley, Teri Fischer, Jenny Park, Jodi Moreno, Jessica
Merchant, Sarah Kieffer, Ashlae Warner, Jonathan Melendez, Nik Sharma, Kathryn
Taylor, Erin Alderson, Melissa Coleman, Gerry Spiers, Brooke Bass, Hetty
McKinnon, Erika Raxworthy, and Brandon Matzek—thank you for being so BA!
Finally, to all the readers of Fix Feast Flair, mahalo for coming
along on this journey with me. It’s bigger and better than I could have ever
dreamed, and it’s because of all of you.
INDEX
A
aburage (fried bean curd)
Cone Sushi
’Ahi Poke, Shoyu all-purpose flour aloha, meaning of
B
bacon
Beef Chili
banana leaves
Kālua Pig
bars
Kūlolo Bars
Sweet Potato Haupia Bars
beans
Beef Chili canned
Pie Crust Manju
Portuguese
Bean Soup bean sprouts
Chow Fun Dry Mein
beef
Beef Chili Beef Curr y Beef Stew Loco Moco
Maui-Style Kalbi Short Ribs Meat Jun
Oxtail Soup Pipi Kaula
Teriyaki
Beef Sticks bok choy
bread
Cornbread
Sweet Bread
Rolls bread flour
broths
Dashi Broth
Butterfish, Ginger Misoyaki Butter Mochi
C
cabbage. See also napa cabbage Cake, Guava
cake flour
canned goods
Carrots, Quick Pickled Cascaron
Char Siu Pork
chicken
Chicken Adobo Chicken Hekka Chicken Jook Chicken Katsu Chicken
Long Rice Dashi Broth
Local-Style BBQ Chicken Mochiko Chicken
Shoyu Chicken Chiffon Pie, Liliko’i Chili, Beef
chili peppers
Hawaiian
Hawaiian’s
Chili Pepper Water Chinese-Style Steamed Fish
Chips, Baked Taro and Sweet Potato Chocolate Haupia Pie,
DoubleChow Fun
cilantro
coconut
Butter Mochi Cascaron Haupia
Kūlolo Bars
milk, fm.1, fm.2 Cone Sushi
corn
Cornbread
Hurricane
Popcorn cornstarch
cucumbers
Namasu Curr y, Beef
D
daikon
Namasu
Takuan
Dashi Broth
dressings and vinaigrettes
Creamy Asian Dressing Papaya Seed Dressing Westerner’s Guava
Dressing Westerner’s Liliko’i Vinaigrette
drinks
Fruit Punch Mai Tai
Plantation Iced Tea POG
Dry Mein
Dynamite Sauce
E
eggs
Loco Moco Maki Sushi
Potato Mac Salad Somen Salad
Spam Fried
Rice ethnic groups
F
family recipes, differences in
fish
Chinese-Style Steamed Fish Fried Reef Fish
Ginger Misoyaki Butterfish Local-Style Fish
Lomi Salmon Maki Sushi Pork Laulau
Shoyu ’Ahi Poke
See also kamaboko (fish cake) fish sauce
five-spice powder, Chinese flours
fruits
Fruit Punch
See also individual fruits
furikake
G
garlic, fm.1, fm.2
Gau
ginger
Ginger Misoyaki Butterfish Ginger Simple Syrup peeling
gochugaru, fm.1, fm.2
guava
Fruit Punch Guava Cake POG
Westerner’s
Guava Dressing Gummy Bears, Li Hing
H
ham
Dashi Broth Haupia
Double-Chocolate Haupia Pie Sweet Potato Haupia Bars
Hawai’i
aloha spirit and ethnic groups of histor y of
local food of
Hawaiian’s Chili Pepper Water honey
Honey Syrup
Hurricane Popcorn
I
ice
Ice Cake Shave Ice
J
Jook, Chicken
K
Kalbi Short Ribs, Maui-Style
kale
Portuguese Bean Soup Kālua Pig
kamaboko (fish cake)
Saimin
Somen Salad
Katsu Sauce Kim Chee knife skills Kūlolo Bars
L
Laulau, Pork li hing mui
Li Hing Gummy Bears Pickled Mango
Prune Mui
liliko’i (passion fruit)
Fruit Punch
Liliko’i Chiffon Pie Liliko’i Syrup
Pastr y Cream POG
Westerner’s
Liliko’i Vinaigrette liquid smoke
local Hawai’i food Loco Moco
Lomi Salmon Lū’au, Squid Lumpia
M
macadamia nuts
Macadamia Nut Cream Pie storing
Sweet Potato Haupia Bars toasting
macadamia oil
macaroni
Mac Salad
Potato Mac
Salad Mai Tai
Maki Sushi Malasadas Manapua Mandoo
Mango, Pickled Manju, Pie Crust
Maui-Style Kalbi Short Ribs mayonnaise
Meat Jun
milk, evaporated mirin
mochiko flour
Butter
Mochi Cascaron Gau
Mochiko Chicken
moi
Chinese-Style Steamed Fish
mushrooms
Chicken Hekka Dashi Broth Fried Wontons Loco Moco Mandoo
Oxtail Soup Pansit
shiitake
Musubi, Soy-Glazed Spam
N
Namasu
napa cabbage
Kim Chee
Mandoo Pansit
Somen Salad
noodles
Chicken Hekka Chicken Long Rice Chow Fun
Dry Mein Lumpia Pansit Saimin
Somen Salad
See also macaroni nori
Maki Sushi
Mochiko Chicken
Soy-Glazed
Spam Musubi nuts. See also individual nuts
O
octopus
Squid Lū’au oils
1:1 Simple Syrup
onions
green Maui
Pickled Onions
opakapaka (pink snapper)
Local-Style Fish
orange juice
Fruit Punch POG
Oxtail Soup oyster sauce
P
Pansit
papayas
Papaya Seed
Dressing passion fruit. See liliko’i Pastr y Cream
peanuts
Boiled Peanuts Oxtail Soup
peas
Chow Fun
Pork and Peas Somen Salad
peppercorns, black Pie Crust
Pie Crust Manju
pies
Double-Chocolate Haupia Pie Liliko’i Chiffon Pie
Macadamia Nut Cream Pie
pineapple juice
Fruit Punch
Plantation
Iced Tea Pipi Kaula
Plantation Iced Tea plate lunch, fm.1, fm.2
POG
pohole fern, fm.1, .1
Pohole Fern Salad Poi
Poke, Shoyu ’Ahi Popcorn, Hurricane
pork
Char Siu Pork Chow Fun
Dry Mein
Fried Wontons Kālua Pig
Lumpia
Manapua Mandoo Pansit
Pork and Peas Pork Laulau
Pork Vinha d’Alhos Portuguese Bean Soup Portuguese Sausage
Patties Saimin
Somen Salad
See also bacon; ham Portuguese Bean Soup Portuguese Sausage
Patties Portuguese Spice Blend
potatoes
Beef Curr y Beef Stew peeling
Pork Vinha
d’Alhos Portuguese Bean Soup Potato Mac Salad
Prune Mui
R
rice
Chicken Jook Cone Sushi Loco Moco Maki Sushi
Soy-Glazed Spam Musubi Spam Fried Rice
Rolls, Sweet Bread
rum
Mai Tai
S
sablefish
Ginger Misoyaki Butterfish Pork Laulau
Saimin
sake
salads
Mac Salad
Pohole Fern Salad Potato Mac Salad Somen Salad
Salmon, Lomi salt
sauces
Dynamite Sauce
Hawaiian’s Chili Pepper Water Katsu Sauce
See also dressings and vinaigrettes sausage
Beef Chili
Local-Style Fish
Portuguese
Bean Soup Portuguese Sausage Patties
sesame oil
sesame seeds Shave Ice
Shoyu ’Ahi Poke Shoyu Chicken
shrimp
Dashi Broth Fried Wontons Mandoo
Pansit
simple syrups
Ginger Simple Syrup 1:1 Simple Syrup
Somen Salad
soups
Chicken Jook
Chicken Long Rice Oxtail Soup
Portuguese
Bean Soup soy sauce
Spam
Soy-Glazed Spam Musubi Spam Fried Rice
Spice Blend, Portuguese Squid Lū’au
strawberries
Fruit Punch
Strawberr y
Syrup sugar
sushi
Cone Sushi Maki Sushi
sweet potatoes
Baked Taro and Sweet Potato Chips Okinawan
Sweet Potato Haupia Bars
sweets
Butter Mochi Cascaron
Double-Chocolate Haupia Pie Gau
Guava Cake Haupia
Ice Cake Kūlolo Bars
Liliko’i Chiffon Pie
Macadamia Nut Cream Pie Malasadas
Pie Crust Manju Shave Ice
Sweet Bread Rolls
Sweet Potato Haupia Bars
syrups
Ginger Simple Syrup Honey Syrup
Liliko’i Syrup
1:1 Simple Syrup Strawberr y Syrup Vanilla Syrup
T
Takuan
leaves
Pork Laulau
Squid Lū’au
taro root
Baked Taro and Sweet Potato Chips Kūlolo Bars
Poi
Tea, Plantation Iced Teriyaki Beef Sticks ti leaves
Kālua Pig
Local-Style Fish Pork Laulau
tomatoes
Beef Chili Beef Stew
Local-Style Fish Lomi Salmon
Pohole Fern Salad Pork and Peas
Portuguese Bean Soup
tuna
Maki Sushi
Shoyu ’Ahi Poke
V
Vanilla Syrup
vegetables. See also individual
vegetables vinegar
W
water
watercress
Chicken Hekka Maki Sushi
Somen Salad
Westerner’s Guava Dressing Westerner’s Liliko’i Vinaigrette
Whipped Cream, Stabilized whiskey
wine
Wontons, Fried
Worcestershire sauce
ALANA KYSAR was born in Hawai‘i and currently resides in Los
Angeles with her boyfriend and their dog, Vienna Sausage. In 2015, she started
her award-winning blog Fix Feast Flair, where she shares recipes inspired by
her Japanese-American heritage, travels, and life in Hawai‘i and Southern
California. Since then, her photos and recipes have been picked up ever ywhere
from Saveur and Food & Wine to Countr y Living, BuzzFeed, and Yahoo Food.
For more information on Hawai‘i, including local ingredients,
favorite cookbooks, Hawaiian histor y books, must-tr y restaurants, and curated
travel guides, visit alohakitchencookbook.com.