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Buzzy Sproat on the trail to Kalaupapa Photo by Richard A. Cooke, III
Vol. 7, No. 2
April/May 2004




 

The Raw and the (Slightly) Cooked (Page 3)

 
Sam Choy

"And then, of course, you come to Hawaii, where traditional poke mainly consisted of reef fish, sea salt gathered off the shoreline, ‘inamona for flavoring, all sorts of limu (seaweed)—manauea, lipeepee, limu kohu—and the chili pepper to spice it up. And as the canoes began to run out to deeper water, they got to using aku and ‘ahi—this was the basic poke."

As Sam goes on to explain, this basic preparation has metamorphosed over the years, the bare-bones, salt-kukui-seaweed mix expanding to include an ever-widening variety of ingredients.

"It’s really a no-brainer," he says. "It shifted with time: In terms of the American culture’s contribution to Hawaiian cuisine, all they brought to the table was salt and pepper. Our backyard is Asia—if you look at the really ‘ono pokes, they’re basically like a teriyaki sauce, with the exception of sesame seed oil: Take a soy sauce base, add sesame seeds, put a little touch of sugar and then add green and white onions, hot peppers and mix it—that’s pretty much the basis for the Asian influence over time."

These days, it seems like poke is everywhere. It’s on the menu in a wide array of restaurants, from plate lunch joints to upscale Japanese bistros. It’s on the table at most every social gathering: baby luau to wedding reception to memorial service. And, like rubber slippers, "Eddie Would Go" bumper stickers and the ability to eat peas with chopsticks, it also serves as a subtle social marker, one more defining characteristic of who is and isn’t "local." Got poke? You’re headed in the right direction.

Virtually every supermarket now carries at least one version of the standard ‘ahi-shoyu-onion variety, and several have entire refrigerator cases catering to a growing and diverse clientele. And poke’s by no means limited to ‘ahi: Depending on one’s tastes, there’s everything from the vegetarian tofu poke of Honolulu healthfood co-op Kokua Market to, on at least one recent occasion, a goat poke at Tamura’s Fine Wine and Liquors in Kaimuki.

This, of course, is part of poke’s allure: It’s flexible. Still, purists insist that something is lost if you take your poke pre-packaged. The first option, of course, is to do it yourself: Cast your line, throw your net or hit it down to the fish auction. But lacking that kind of skill (and time commitment), you can always track down the folks who will do it right in front of your eyes: Places like Fort Ruger Market on the slopes of Diamond Head, ‘Ono Seafood on Kapahulu Avenue, Tanioka’s Seafoods & Catering in Waipahu ... places where customers are given the option of ordering specifically to taste.

 
Bradley Pulice,
at Fort Ruger Market
"We don’t let the fish sit in the ingredients that we mix it with, because we feel that it compromises the integrity of the fish itself," says Bradley Pulice, who bought Fort Ruger Market (and its poke recipes) six years ago from Peter Tamada, whose family had run the neighborhood store since the 1930s. "So when you order a half-pound of shoyu-limu-onion, we make it right there for you, using fish that was purchased fresh at auction that morning."
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