Hawaiian Food Quotes

I learned to cook by helping my mother in the kitchen. I assisted her with the canning, and she began assigning me some other tasks like making salad dressing or kneading dough for bread. My first attempt at preparing an entire dinner¾the menu included pork chops Hawaiian, which called for the pork to be marinated in papaya nectar, ginger, cumin, and other spices before being grilled with onions and pineapple cubes¾required an extensive array of exotic ingredients. When he saw my grocery list, my father commented, “I hope she marries a rich man.

There, done! A Petite Loco Moco Bowl! *Loco Moco is traditional Hawaiian fare of hamburger and fried egg over rice.* "Wow, that looks super yummy!" "Huh. Loco Moco at a buffet? How interesting! Ooh, hot! The egg has been coddled to the perfect tenderness... ... and it melds beautifully with the powerful taste of the hamburger made from ground rib roast! Add to that the mild, fluffy rice to tie it all together and it fills the mouth with deliciousness... It's a dish that brings out the strength in you with every bite! Not only that, typical Loco Moco is covered with beef gravy... ... but you've used a vinaigrette instead! The tangy lightness of the white-wine vinegar in the vinaigrette wonderfully accentuates the richness of the egg yolk and the juiciness of the meat.

I don't know where to begin on my plate. Everything looks so unfamiliar, yet appetizing. I decide to aim for the starch first, and settle my fork into a generous portion of what turns out to be risotto with bite-sized pieces of suckling pig. I'll take creamy risotto over that vile poi any day. The pork, so tender and juicy, has me humming Mele Kalikimaka, cause it feels like a Hawaiian Merry Christmas gift. I next try the entrée, a tender, flaky and surprisingly un-oily mackerel sprinkled with feta cheese and olives and cloaked in taro leaves. I have to give Telly some credit, I didn't know how this place could pull off merging three such divergent flavors, but somehow it works despite itself. "I can't believe how fantastic this food is," Jess mumbles through a bite of her pineapple-balsamic glazed wild boar spare ribs with tzatziki sauce. "Who'd have thought you could actually assemble a menu with Italian, Hawaiian and Greek food? I honestly thought it was a joke." "Joke's on us, cause this stuff is amazing." After dinner ends, Telly returns with a selection of desserts (including a baklava made with mascarpone cheese, coconut and pine nuts), a tray with sample shots of grappa, ouzo and okolehao, and a somewhat excessive appreciation for his customers.

My health issues are now fully understood, treated and I am back to normal. It was a mix of amino acid deficiencies and low testosterone causing serious food intolerance and altitude hypersensitivity to occur. Low magnesium was causing sleep apnea and I now take magnesium supplements. I had also lost my circadian rhythm and it restored while I was homeless and camping outdoors for five months in the Hawaiian jungle. Based on my testing, I will have to take amino acids, magnesium and testosterone for the rest of my life. The sickness comes back if I stop the supplements.

Another famous and notable American that would contribute heavily toward the Westernization of the Hawaiian Islands was Sanford Dole, who would serve as the only president of the Republic of Hawaii. Sanford was raised in Protestant missionary schools, and his father was the principal at what would eventually come to be known as the Punahou School. He was appointed as a justice in the Supreme Court of the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi by King Kalakaua, and his cousin, James Dole, would eventually come to Hawaiʻi to found the Hawaiian Pineapple Company. This company would later become the Dole Food Company, which is well known even today.

The Bancroft Peach Bellini 2 ripe peaches, seeded and diced 1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice 1 teaspoon sugar 1 bottle chilled Prosecco sparkling wine Directions Place the peaches, lemon juice, and sugar in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade and process until smooth. Press the mixture through a sieve, and discard the peach solids in the sieve. Place two tablespoons of the peach puree into each champagne glass and fill with cold Prosecco. Serve immediately. Hawaiian BBQ Short Ribs 1 package pork spare ribs 4 tablespoons of your favorite brand of dry rib rub 1 cup light brown sugar 2 cups Welch’s Essentials Orange, Pineapple, Apple Juice Cocktail 1 16-ounce can chunked pineapple, with its juice 4 tablespoons light yellow mustard 1 cup Hawaiian BBQ sauce Directions Sprinkle both sides of the spare ribs with dry rib rub and light brown sugar.

Aloha is being a part of all                               And all being a part of me                               When there is pain, it is my pain                               When there is joy, it is mine also                               I respect all that is                               As part of the Creator and part of me                               I will not wilfully harm anyone or anything                               When food is needed I will take only my need                               And explain why it is being taken                               The earth, the sky, the sea are mine                               To care for, to cherish, and to protect                               This is Hawaiian, this is Aloha!   (Excerpt from “Tales From The Night Rainbow” by Koko Willis and Pali Jae Lee)

Beneath these annual rhythms, the aseasonal fulfillment of American desires continued unabated. For hour after hour, we received, stocked, restocked, and picked: frozen guava juice in barrels, destined for a Dr. Smoothie bottling plant; cans of refrigerated peanut butter paste, imported from Argentina to fill M&M’s and Clif Bars; pallets stacked with rolls of X-ray film for local hospitals; and thousands and thousands of freshly baked King’s Hawaiian buns, trucked in hot from Torrance—a thermal disruption for which Americold charges extra. “We need to bring it down slowly to keep the moisture in the product. Bread will crystallize if it’s cooled too fast,” explained Espinoza. “People think it’s so fresh and soft,” said Carlos. “I tell them it’s been in here for months, and they don’t believe me.

Chapter 8 – Modern Hawaiʻi Hawaiʻi was considered a territory of the United States throughout the Second World War, and most, if not all, aspects of its governance were determined by a military government. Food and fuel were rationed, with priority given to the defenders, watch guards, soldiers, and sailors. Television, radio, and newspapers were censored, edited, and controlled by the Americans to stop enemy propaganda from spreading to the Hawaiian people. Trade, markets, and businesses were sometimes nationalized and, at other times, controlled and regulated to aid the war effort. Even courts, juries, and witnesses were beholden to the military effort, resulting in different American federal departments clashing over conflicting interests over the lands of Hawaiʻi as the Second World War raged on.

Sanford Dole, whose relatives would eventually found the Dole Food Company we know today, also wrote and supported the need to increase Hawaiʻi’s population, whether by increasing the flow and residency of immigrant labor or by encouraging current residents to have large families. His view was that the islands would never reach their full productive power without occupying them to a much greater extent.

The word “luau” itself translates literally to “taro,” and the feast takes this name because taro was one of the most common foods that were served at such feasts.

High chiefs of large districts or even entire islands would be met with respect and prostration; any sign of blatant disrespect was punishable by death. A ruler’s clothes could not be worn by common men, and his house was a sacred place where only those who were permitted could enter. A high chief would be attended to and advised by a group of nobles, which traditionally favored the paternal side of the family. Some of the lesser-ranked members of the king’s cohort would be responsible for waiting on him, helping him stay cool with fans, bathing and massaging him, and fetching him food and drinks.

As early as the 1830s, missionaries in the Society Islands were already beginning to speak of depopulation. There were major epidemics in Tahiti of smallpox in 1841, dysentery in 1843, scarlet fever in 1847, measles in 1854. Much the same story can be told of Hawai‘i, which was also subject to wave after wave of imported disease. In 1848 and 1849, when Pinao was pregnant with her first child, a series of devastating epidemics struck the Hawaiian Islands. Measles, arriving from Mexico on an American frigate, and whooping cough, on a ship from California, hit at the same time, killing an estimated ten thousand people. Whole villages were prostrate, wrote one observer, “there not being persons enough in health to prepare food for the sick,” while “a large portion of the infants born in the Islands in 1848, even as large a proportion as nine-tenths in some parts, are supposed to be already in their graves.” No doubt there were other diseases in the mix as well; mumps, which had been in the islands some years earlier, was reported again, as were “pleurisy,” “bilious fever,” and something that was probably dysentery. The combined assault was especially hard upon the very young and the very old. “The aged,” wrote one observer, “have almost all disappeared from among us.

Kamuela Enos of MA‘O Organic Farms comments, “To me, the GMO piece is the corporatization of food. [This is] taking away the ability of communities to articulate their own food destiny and putting it in the hands of some remote boardroom.” He further explains, “The food sovereignty piece is about creating a vibrant food system that allows us to be resilient on islands. It pushes us toward the kind of system our kūpuna were able to create uninterrupted for thousands of years.

During our interview, he chuckled and asked, “What happened to the sugar and pineapple plantations?” and then went on to forecast that the new Big Five biotech corporations will meet the same demise as the old Big Five sugar companies. When oil prices soar and it becomes too expensive to ship their chemicals and seeds in and out of Hawai‘i, they will leave because they have no vested interest here. “It's really bad, short-term economic forecasting to think they are going to be here forever.” So it will be “up to this generation to create the building blocks for a food system to grow farms, farmers, and the system of a localized food economy.

Over time, it became clear that my invisible friend and the Hawaiian visions were arising out of erratic low blood oxygen levels, company supplied drugs, vitamin and mineral deficiencies, abnormal electromagnetic radiation exposures, very high altitude damage, sleep apnea, bruxism and food intolerance.

Thanksgiving following Powerball held a different vibe than years past. When Gooch arrived with a wine case mixed with whites and reds—part of a massive purchase to restock Pogo’s cellar—Indian Leo was there to greet him. “I see Powerball changes everything! Your first Thanksgiving with us!” “Show me where to set this down, then let’s talk. I have a proposal for you.” Leo waved Gooch to follow. “And giving orders like a rich man!” The two wound up huddled behind a brandy still in a far, dark corner of the barn, invisible to those gathering for the feast. After hitting the bowl Leo had passed to him, Gooch laid out the consortium’s plan, talked about hidden caves and the promise he’d made to his father. Despite a niggling disrespect for Leo, Gooch grudgingly admired the Nindian’s life experience, competence, and wisdom that arose unexpectedly—usually when it was needed most. “I can see the merit in this. I think it’s providence, what you propose. I’ll chant on this tonight and then you’ll have my answer.” The darkness between them was interrupted by the embers glowing from the pull on his pipe. Flynn and The Don watched their friends return from the barn’s shadows, curious as to what the Nindian’s answer would be. Leo’s weed was famous throughout the Rockies—his “Butter Rum Snatch” and “Shush Kush” particularly popular with skiers wanting to find themselves either landing in soft pillows or navigating slopes of cerebral adventure. Getting Leo on board with tending the grow would be a real coup. After swatting away the buzzing fly that was Toothless Don, The Don heaped his plate pheasant, yams, globs of Jello-fruit-Cool-Whip, green bean casserole, then told Flynn that Gooch made the best choice for the operation’s gardener. Pointing forked roasted bird to rafters, he declared, “Leo goes for it. Why wouldn’t he? His autonomy? As a grower? Methinks this shit expands his trip.” “Everything I’ve smoked up here is primo. If that’s the guy growing it? I’m down.” Satisfied with his own plate, Flynn watched Whisper pull Leo aside as Gooch slapped some skin all around then jogged his way to the buffet. Gooch opted for duck, ladling gravy over scooped out mashed potatoes, slopping down collard greens and grabbing two Hawaiian sweet rolls. After pounding a few mouthfuls of food, he looked to his friends for affirmation. “Leo’s weed lasts what? Two months up here? And then, we’re stuck with ditchweed or expensive shit from Paonia or wherever. With our operation, he’ll do what he does and make tons more money. Because he won’t be limited by seasons. And we’ll have kine bud, like, whenever. I think he’s our gardener.” “Where did that come from, squire?” The Don waved his fork, wild-rice stuffing sprayed within the wake of his gestures. “Thinking. Out loud. Wondering if Leo is good for this or if he isn’t going to start doing fucking tours down in the caves.” Pulling meat from his plate and chewing on what he’d snagged, Gooch’s brow drooped to darken his eyes. “You know how he is.” Flynn didn’t know. “How do you mean?” Gooch cast a glance at Flynn’s plate where none of the food touched, meat, starch and veggies divided neatly into discrete nutritional piles. “The man has secrets. I mean, we all have secrets, but he more than most. Which tells me he won’t go blabbing about this, our thing.” “Cosa nostra,” The Don mumbled his Godfather impression. Seated and filling their faces, the three found other table conversations focused entirely on the winners, what they were planning to do with all that money—the winners, everyone meant—and how it was great for the town, especially for the winners. A rubber ball of a topic that kept bouncing back, no matter how hard lottery winners tried to send the trajectory in another direction.