The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1893-08-31
LEARNING TO EAT POI.
Acquiring Taste for the National Dainty
of the Sandwich Islands,

NJ your HrSC meal, says a letter from
Hawaii you inquire hungrily for poi,
and there is brought you a little
wooden bowl or calabash containing a
queer-looking grayish sticky compound
resembling paper-hanger' paste. You
regard it askance, and ask for spoon.
but are told it is to be eaten with the
fingers.
why, no one could take that stuff
up in their fingers"' you gasp.
20, yes, just see," and into COM
panion calabash your instructor dips
two fingers, and with a twirl. only ac-
quired by long practice, withdraws
them loaded with the compound, which
is at once transferred to his mouth and
swallowed, his countenance assuming
meantime an expression of beatified
epicureanism. You do not know what
expression may have taken it's abode
upon your visage, but you know your
principal sensation is one of simon
pure horror.
Now, you try it," says Epicurus
Tentatively you thrust one finger into
the mess and gather up minute dose
of the delectable Wand As you raise
it toward your mouth your nose takes
cognizance of sour smell that har-
monies perfectly with the appearance
OF the poi You close your eyes, and,
mentally breathing forth a devout
ejaculation, open your mouth and suck
the poi from your fngerc. BY sublime
effort OF will you keep your lips closed
over the mouthful, while your compan-
ion looks on interestedly, evidently ex-
pecting to hear your palate scream with
delight. Meanwhile your Imagination
is working with lightning speed. The
poi is cold and clammy. The poi tastes
like stale yeast; it stings your tongue,
and an unutterable disgust possesses
your soul. You are sure you are going
to choke, though you know you dare
not, and you figuratively take yourself
by the throat and force yourself to
! swallow the compound. You can trace
its progress through the esophagus by
the Mortified shudder that organ gives
as the mouthful passes along it: you
can hear the Will in your stomach
shrek as the frog-like lump makes it's
appearance among them, and you think
you are going to die then and there.
"Don'ty You like ito" your hear some one
say. You Struggle back to conscious
ness and murmur your fear that you
are not educated to such high point
of taste.
| 80, never mind" is the consoling
reply. You'll be so fond of it in day
or two you can't keep house without it."
| You know better than that, but you
offer no contradiction to the assertion.
But if you would leave the islands
with conscience untainted by poi you
must hold to your resolution to alb
stain from tasting the stuff again. This
will be difficult to do. You will see all
your acquaintance dipping into their
calabashes and hear them expatiating
on the delights of poi, and you begin
to aspire to taste again. You think
about it by day and by night, and at
last you venture. You take another
| step along the downward pathway
AS the poet has so touchingly described:
"You first endure, then pity, then en-
brace" the calabash.
Poi is dish that must long remain
peculiar to the Hawaiian islands-al-
| ways, in fact, unless some means are
contrived for preserving taro SO that it
will stand export. Poi is made from
taro, root resembling the turnip. 1t
| grows in the water, with a large, hand
| some, green leaf, and it is almost
tasteless. There is also an upland
| taro cultivated in the mountains by
| the natives which has more de-
| cided taste, and which, as | learned
to my cost on tasting it raw, bites the
throat like horseradish. The low taro
is the chief vegetable in the island. and
in early days constituted the natives
principal crop. When cooked it as
sumes notified gray and white APP
pearance very like the lava rock that
abounds every where in the islands. The
process of manufacturing the poi is
| quite lengthy one. A great hole is
dug in the ground. and into this the
taro roots are placed around piles of
hot stones. The earth is then heaped
over the place and the taro left to
steam. When the taro is thoroughly
cooked, which operation often takes
several hours, the roots are dug out
| again. peeled, and put into a huge stone
receptacle, in which they are pounded
to pulp. This work is performed by
the men. 1t is an arduous task, and
on a hot day land nearly all days are
hot on the islands) the pounding of poi
is scene over which it is desirable to
draw veil. The poi FOUNDER not only
earns his bread by the sweat of his
brow, but mixes it as we'll largely with
that fluid
The poi of commerce. is now made
by machinery. The natives, how
ever, still make their own. When
the mass is thoroughly beaten and
smooth it is mixed with water to the
proper consistency, about like good
thick paste, strained through coarse
cloth, and set away for two or three
days, until it begins to ferment, when
it is ready to be eaten. 1t then tastes
little like buttermilk, and is very nu-
tritious and wholesome. The natives
eat it by the gallon. Give the average
native big pot of poi, half dozen
raw fish, and a bottle of gin, and you
may have the kingdom and the rest OF
the earth as well. He will squat upon
| A.. l. H. GG e