Savor Some Real Hawaiian flavor

Poke. It seems like it's everywhere these days. Everyone and their Mama/Papa/Aunty/Uncle/Sistah/Braddah/Cousin/Friend has opened up some sort of poke business, eaten at one of these shops, or at the very least, seen references about a poke place at least once in their lifetimes. It is currently a popular source of nourishment around the world, and due to its growing fame, has been featured on TV, print, radio, blogs and vlogs all over.

And yet, too many people don't know that poke, and all it's gloriousness specifically originates in Hawai'i. Yuh huh. It's true. Poke is a Kanaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian) food that is rooted in Polynesia.

Call it a pūpū, call it an hors d'oeuvre, call it a complete meal, call it a snack. Whatever you want to label it as in your diet tracking app is all good. Just don't call it poke (as in, I'm going to poke your eyes further back into your head) or poki (which means something different entirely.)

Poke is pronounced, "poh-keh" and rhymes with okay. (Without the hard 'ay') There is no other way to say it without sounding like a complete kook, but if you don't mind looking like a doofus and are hard pressed on, 'pronouncing it however which way you want because you don't care', then by all means, keep it up. You're doing a good job. (Hey, Beta's need praise too.)

In 'Ōlelo Hawai'i, (Hawaiian language) the word poke translates to: "to slice, or cut crosswise into pieces" and this describes the preparation of the meal perfectly.

This seafood dish has been a delicacy in Hawai'i prior to foreign arrival. It traditionally consists of raw fish (i'a), cut into small, bite sized square pieces (poke) and mixed with other ingredients such as sea salt (pa'a kai), seaweed (limu), chili peppers (nī'oi), kukui nut (inamona), and other edible treasures found in the ocean i.e., he'e, (octopus) muhe'e, (squid) 'opihi, (limpet) 'opae, (shrimp) etc. But due to the influx and influence of the (mainly Asian) plantation cultures who began arriving in the islands over the past hundred years or so, other flavors like shoyu (soy sauce) sugar, onions/green onions and sesame oil have been added in to the mix for a more kickin' multi-cultural experience.

Poke is a gourmet dish that I (and many others) have enjoyed since I (we) learned how to chew. For me it is a comfort food that I, and generations before me in Hawai'i grew up on. It is something that my childhood eyes watched my Grandparents lovingly prepare; a thing of beauty that brightens up my view at every island grocery store and fish market, a cherished friend that shows up less frequently than I would like. A welcomed... I could go on and on but I think you get it.

To make it clear, I am not fond of sharing family recipes with anyone with the exception of family and this instance is no different. Yes. I am gatekeeping the recipes that I use in my home because they are strictly for my kids and future grandkids only. I gatekeep because I have to. There have been too many instances where outsiders take from our culture strictly with the intent to profit from what little we (Native Hawaiians) have to share.

This said, I will happily share a basic recipe with you in case you are interested in making Hawai'i style poke. (Note: there are no weird accents on either vowel in the word poke, so if you see an establishment with an off spelling, or some weird symbol that does not exist in the Hawaiian language, chances are good that you are not eating authentic poke.)

Also, there shall be no foolish nut adding or silly lima beans added to this recipe. If those are what you need or are used to, kindly play the following video:

My poke backstory (caution, it's personal)

My favorite memories of poke comes from those times when my single parent Mom was able to afford to buy a container-- even a small one-- for our family to enjoy.

Growing up, money was scarce and Hawaiian food has always been notoriously expensive. So pricey that it was and is considered a luxury; not just for us but for many Native Hawaiians. And the price per pound of fish, dependant on the price of gas, which holiday was coming up, and who was selling it oftentimes went through the roof. (As it still does today.) It was a rarity to have the chance to eat it outside of a family lū'au so it was always a cherished moment for me, even if I only had two pieces of fish to my name.

Thankfully, there was a youngish local guy who worked in the fish department at the grocery store near our house who would smile and greet us when we window shopped, tummies rumbling at the gorgeous spread that was displayed before us.

One day, as my siblings and I were oohing and aahing at all the different flavors of poke, my kid brother, who was a toddler at the time announced, "poke-poke" and reached his arms out for the fish dishes that were resting in their metal containers over crushed ice.

The guy's eyes widened and he asked my brother, "braddah, you hungry?"

To which my baby brother started motioning at his mouth with an imaginary spoon. Feeding himself scoops of air while staring at the fish over and over again.

The guy behind the counter took a sheet of plastic-- the kind they use for weighing fish-- and put a small scoop of poke on it and handed it to me. I held it so my brother could help himself, which he did, while happy dancing from side to side.

The youngish local guy then took three more sheets of fish weighing plastic and scooped some poke on to those. He gestured to me and my siblings to grab them. I was ashamed, but I took it and told him thank you anyway.

My Mom saw this and told him, "hey, don't give away all your food, we don't want you to get fired over that!"

But he just smiled and said, "I'm not gonna get fired over giving our regular customers some free samples." Then he looked over at us and announced, "anytime you guys want to try some poke, you just let me know okay?"

We did go back a couple more times, (I was always ashamed to ask for anything) but he made sure to hand us some samples when he saw us. Then one day, we approached the counter to learn that he wasn't there. My Mom frowned, thinking it was us who got him fired, until they told us that he had been promoted to Manager and was working at a different store.

This kind action is something that may have seemed so little to him, but felt like such a big deal to us. At the time, we didn't have much to eat at home so I was and forever will be grateful to the youngish local guy who gave us samples of poke from his counter in the grocery store near our house.

Back to the subject at hand:

I'm tempted to keep writing and tossing more words your way the way a lot of bloggers who hand out recipes for fun do. Long winded explanations for what? I don't know... boredom perhaps. Half of me wants to keep you reading-- you know, just for gits and shiggles. But I'll spare you the whole tap dance routine and give you what you really want, which is:

MY GENERIC RECIPE FOR HAWAI'I STYLE POKE:

1 lb of 'ahi (Hawaiian word for tuna) cubed in 1-2" pieces

1/4 c. of shoyu (soy sauce for those who don't know what the heck shoyu is)

1 Tbsp. sesame oil

1 tsp. sugar (brown or white or whatever random kind of sweetener that floats your boat)

1/2 small sweet onion, chopped lengthwise (or don't add, if you prefer not to smell like onions)

1/4 c. green onions (again, add only if you like them. Promise, I won't get mad if you choose to omit them)

Sea salt and crushed red peppers to taste

Instructions:

Cut fish and put in an appropriate sized mixing bowl. Add onions and green onions (omit whatever ingredient you want. It's choose your own adventure at this point.)

In a separate bowl, mix wet ingredients and sugar. Pour over your 'ahi mixture. Mix and sprinkle sea salt and red peppers until you are satistied. (Careful not to overdo it. The goal is to make it taste good to your palate. You are not trying to give yourself high blood pressure here.)

Chill.

Best eaten with poi (if you can find it) but you can also serve it over rice, or eat it with a tossed green salad.

Enjoy! And if you do make this, send me a photo-- or don't. Doesn't matter. What truly matters is that you enjoyed this article as much as you liked every morsel of poke that you devoured. Aloha!