Of all the islands in the world, Hawai‘i pulls at my heart strings like an auntie strumming her ukulele. It draws me across the Pacific again and again, and there’s always a moment, while passing through the vast lava plain between Mauna Kea and Hualālai, when the arc of the earth presents itself and I hold my breath in wonder.
Time, in geological terms, has a different pace here. Friends wait for me with homemade custard pies and shoyu made fiery by tiny Hawaiian chiles called nīoi. Someone usually shares a lei lovingly sewn with heady pīkake (jasmine) harvested from backyards. I say hello to the moray eels guarding the ancient fishponds and eat crunchy-fried moi—the “fish of kings”—in a homey, wood-paneled restaurant, where the staff bring sides unprompted. I take joy in the laughter of children netting freshwater shrimp in an isolated valley stream. Seasons are marked by humpback whales nursing newborn calves in the ‘Au‘au Channel. I get lost in the thuds of tree-ripened mangoes hitting a tin carport roof, the swirl of constellations navigating the dark night sky, and the first ‘ōhi‘a lehua bloom—fire goddess Pele’s sacred flower—in newly cooled lava.
Traversing the island of Hawai‘i (once referred to as the “Big Island”) only requires two directions—mauka, “toward the mountains,” and makai, “toward the sea”—so you could be misted by the surf and misted by a waterfall in the same day. At the end of each visit, I respectfully wade out and place flowers from my lei in the ocean, hoping I’ll be back soon.
This brewery and taproom embodies kākou, which means “we” but also represents shared humanity and communal responsibility. That’s because Ola Brew was crowdfunded by over 2,800 local investors and employees. Ola’s IPAs, ales, and stouts are infused with ingredients from island farms—mango, coconut, pineapple, vanilla, coffee, and cacao—a frothy, fermented taste of Hawai‘i in a glass.
Farm-to-table chef Erika Kuhr presides over an open-air kitchen far off the grid in North Kohala. Along with her husband Dash, Kuhr grows Polynesian canoe crops—plants brought to the islands by early Pacific navigators—like breadfruit and taro, and processes honey from their bee hives. Kuhr is also big into fermentation, so expect funky sauces and slaws at her family-style gatherings, which often end with duck egg and sapote custard or purple ube pie.
Back in 1957, Mary Shizuko Teshima turned her family’s store into a Japanese Hawaiian restaurant, where her descendants still keep her welcoming spirit alive. They continue to source coffee from growers next door, buy the daily catch from fishermen friends, and serve teishoku (“set meal”) lunches worth the curvy uphill drive toward Mauna Loa. Never say no to the sashimi tray or housemade tsukemono.
Owners Mark and Soni Pomaski are committed to deeply rooted, heartfelt cooking. Mark’s ahi sashimi with kiawe wood-smoked soy is a menu fixture, but you never know what he’ll do with other Pacific catch that lands at his kitchen door. Soni runs the beverage program, creating infusions and syrups using grapefruit grown by the couple’s neighbors—one of the sweetest aspects of Moon and Turtle’s cocktail hour.
It’s almost impossible to dine so close to the surf these days—new tsunami ordinances have seen to that—but this open-air spot, founded in 1996, has legacy status. Seafood dominates the menu: yellowtail from Kona’s Blue Ocean Mariculture farm and ahi Wellington, a Hawaiian riff on the Continental classic. Save room for pastry chef Kalani Garcia’s ‘ohi‘a honey mousse cake.
Husband and wife duo Mills and Kamalei Stovall hung a portrait of a paniolo (Hawaiian cowboy) in their whole-animal butcher shop and smokehouse as a nod to the island’s ranching history. Their passion for protein comes through in the refrigerated cases, which display a housemade take on Spam, laulau sausages, bone broth, and 120 day-aged Akaushi beef. At lunchtime, the juicy smoked sloppy joes—filled with brisket, chuck, and rib—require fistfuls of napkins.
Chef Brian Hirata’s monthly pop-up at Whitehaven Farm Retreat in Pepe‘ekeo is a history lesson in a tasting menu. He sources heritage ingredients from the mountain heights down to the tidal pools outside Hilo. Dishes might include venison tartare with capered Mauna Kea plums, kanpachi wing tempura, and wild ‘ākala berry cheesecake, all expressions of the moment and the island’s mana.
In sleepy Honoka‘a, this chocolate emporium offers single-origin beans grown just up the road at Kahi Ola Mau Farm, owners Mike and Rhonda Pollard’s cacao orchard. Inside, the air is infused with the scent of fruity, nutty nibs being roasted and shaped into bars or blended into hot chocolate brews. Don’t miss the floral gem candies, made from rum-infused cacao aged in oak barrels.
Founded in 1947 as a vegetable mart and takeout counter for plantation workers, this mom-and-daughter-run okazuya (an old-school Japanese takeout deli) sells out of bentos fast. The wooden display case is filled with plate lunch standards like Spam musubi, housemade fish cakes, nori-wrapped chicken, shrimp tempura, nishime (vegetable stew), and namasu (daikon and carrot salad). On the first Wednesday of every month, there’s hot malasadas (fried dough) from scratch and, come year-end holidays, custard pies are a must.
Sweets are enormously popular throughout the island, but visiting this pâtisserie is a particular treat. Nanako Perez-Nava was a pastry chef at the Halekulani Hotel in Waikīkī before moving to Waimea with her husband and three children, who work behind the counter with her. When headed to a backyard luau, be sure to grab her raspberry glazed chocolate ladybugs, and liliko‘i cream and lychee mousse tarts.
This supermarket is where islanders shop for beach potlucks and backpack lunches. The seafood counter turns out fresh poke daily, and while the selection is mind-boggling, staffers graciously offer samples. On lucky days, you’ll be able to order the white crab kimchi and ginger scallion ahi tataki. Stock up on honey-roasted coffee by Kona Lisa Coffee and Big Island Bees, Kuleana Rum Works Hōkūlei rum, and Kona Sea Salt—and tote it all around in one of the store’s adorably illustrated musubi reusable bags.
On an ocean bluff above the Hāmākua coast, this newly renovated eight-room bed-and-breakfast is a soft spot to land on a round-the-island tour, especially en route to Volcanoes National Park. Breakfast is simple—coffee, fruit, pastries—but if you like a stronger start, Ken’s House of Pancakes in Hilo is only 20 minutes away.
In downtown Kailua-Kona, this updated 1970s boutique hotel has original lava rock walls and open-air balconies with refreshed guest rooms and a streamlined modern look. A tiny café serves cups of Waimea Coffee Company’s single-estate brews. A bit livelier than pricier resorts along the Kohala coast, Pacific 19 suits both those who like to stay out late at the tiki bars and those who like to rise before dawn to snorkel at Kealakekua Bay State Historical Park.
In North Kohala, Puakea Ranch celebrates paniolo life with four lovingly restored bungalows set on 33 acres, where horses graze high above the ‘Au‘au Channel. Each airy house has wood floors, a kitchen, a lanai, and an outdoor shower or hot tub. The largest has a black lava rock swimming pool and a private yard. You’ll also find a welcome jar of honey made by resident bees, and a “help yourself” note for the kitchen garden and chicken coop eggs.
Set among a former fishing village on Kahuwai Bay, thatch-roofed guesthouses overlook the black lava shoreline and Hualālai volcano. Each house has an outdoor shower and shady lanai, with cruiser bikes parked outside to navigate the sandy pathways. The surf booms at night, the nēnē geese roam free, and the days begin with a lavish loco moco, pairing the traditional dish of rice, mushroom gravy, and fried egg with a luxe seared Wagyu beef patty.
