POKE

In its oldest form — the form that predates all foreign contact — poke was reef fish cut into chunks on the canoe, seasoned with paʻakai (Hawaiian sea salt), dressed with limu kohu (a red alga prized for its delicate iodine-rich brine) and inamona (roasted, crushed kukui nut — the same candlenut that thickens curry pastes in Java). No soy sauce. No sesame oil. No rice underneath. Just fish, salt, seaweed, and nut. The ocean, the reef, the tree. Three ingredients from three ecosystems, each one amplifying a different dimension of the fish. Modern poke exists in three classic styles. Hawaiian-style — salt, limu, inamona — is the ancestral preparation and the one closest to the migration thread. Shoyu-style — soy sauce, sesame oil, green onion, ogo seaweed — is the Japanese-influenced version that emerged during the plantation era, and it is arguably the most successful cross-cultural seasoning marriage in Pacific cuisine. Spicy — chili, mayo, sometimes gochujang — is the modern improvisation. The word poke itself only became the standard name in the 1960s or 1970s. Before that, it was simply how fish was eaten. Today, yellowfin tuna (ʻahi) has replaced reef fish as the standard protein, prized for its ruby colour and clean flavour. But on the Big Island, where the connection to traditional fishing culture remains strongest, you will still find poke made the old way: salt, limu, inamona. No soy. No sesame. Just the ocean and the tree.