HERE ON THE BIG ISLAND – What Are Those “Hairy” Fruits?


What Are Those “Hairy” Fruits?

We can’t grow cherries in Hawaii – it’s just not cold enough in the winter. (Not that we wish it were any colder. This past week, Hilo felt an all-time low of . . . 58ยบ F!).

But a family of sweet tree-fruits with small pits does very well here, and one of them, which is in season right now, is probably the most other-worldly-looking fruit you’ll ever see.

LycheeFirst, though, let’s talk about the most famous member of this family. It’s is the lychee (“LIE-CHEE”), which some people call litchi-nut (“LEE-CHEE nut”). But lychees are to litchi-nuts what grapes are to raisins.

Lychees come ripe in the summertime. In Hawaii, you can buy them at farmers’ markets; on the Mainland, they’re in “Asian” produce stalls. Many years ago, dried litchi-nuts were a popular dessert in Chinese restaurants; but they’re rarely served nowadays, because (like cherries) lychees do not lose their flavor or texture when they’re canned, and thus give you a good idea of what they would taste like if they were fresh.

The skin of a lychee is red, thin, and rough like a golf ball. The fruit originated in Asia, and almost certainly had a large pit when it was first cultivated; some varieties still do. But 20th century agronomists developed varieties with small, shriveled pits within fruits of the same size, which have more sweet meat per pound. Many farmers’ market vendors will tell you which variety they’re offering, and the big-pit versions may be cheaper.

LonganA related fruit, also from Asia, is the longan (“LONG-gone”), whose season generally follows that of lychee. Longans are smaller than lychees, but the seed is proportionally larger. The fruit is also sweeter, although some people consider it cloying, or excessively fragrant. The skin is brown or greenish-brown, and somewhat brittle. Local farmers have developed techniques for boosting longan production, and thereby extending the season into the cooler months.

RambutanIn the past few years, however, Hawaii farmers have increasingly planted a related fruit, from Southeast Asia , called rambutan (“RAHM-boo-tahn”). Compared to lychees, rambutans are larger and elongated, the seed is more firmly attached, the fruit is not quite as juicy, and the flavor is more subtle. But the biggest difference is that rambutans are . . . well, hairy. Curly bristles surround the skin, making it look like the egg of an alien creature. The skin itself is also thicker and tougher – you’ll need to nick it with a knife, to start peeling it away.

Rambutans are gaining in popularity for several reasons. On the tree, that thicker skin offers better protection against insects and diseases, and in the markets, it helps to give the fruit a longer shelf-life. The season for rambutan is also offset from the others: it starts after lychee and longan have run their course, and peaks in the cooler winter months.

So look for lychees and longans later in the year. Right now is the time to enjoy rambutan!

HERE ON THE BIG ISLAND – Bringing Fido and Felix to Hawaii


By Kelly Moran

Bringing Fido and Felix to Hawaii

“What about my dog and cat?” a friend asked. “Can they move to Hawaii with me, too?”

These Islands are unique in many ways, but one is that there has never has been a case of rabies here. Since Territorial days, in 1912, the authorities have actively discouraged people from bringing carnivorous mammals here, on the remote chance that they might be infected. And until 2003, this was enforced by a four-month quarantine for all arriving pets (except guide-dogs for the blind). If an animal showed no signs of rabies after 120 days in a Honolulu facility (housed and fed there at the owners’ expense, of course), then it could be released. Owners could visit their pets every day, but that was inconvenient unless they lived nearby, or at least on Oahu.

But most people are unwilling to leave Fido or Felix behind, even with a trusted friend or neighbor. So, what does bringing them here involve? Read the State’s rules-and-regs, and the answers to frequently-asked-questions for all the details. But the basic requirements are that a pet must have had at least two previous rabies vaccinations. A blood sample must be submitted for evaluation, to ensure that it’s free of rabies. And the pet must have an identifying “microchip” to link it with its blood sample.

This means you can forget about bringing a new puppy or kitten. After even the minimum number of shots and checkups that they need to qualify for admission, a dog or cat will be almost a full year old.

There are now quarantine stations on Kauai and the Big Island, and a “five-days-or-less” quarantine option, based on veterinary certification. But still, arriving pets may first have to spend about two days in the Honolulu facility – it’s the only port of entry – to ensure that they meet all the medical requirements.

What about bringing in other animals? Well, wolves and dingos are prohibited, but mainly what Hawaii absolutely does not want here are snakes. Recently, a few brown tree-snakes have hitchhiked here on military transports from Guam, but – fortunately – they have been captured before they could escape and go wild. While they might (might) put a dent in the coqui frog population, they would more likely wipe out the last ground-nesting native birds, and pose a threat to local people, who have never before needed to watch out for snakes in the wild. This proscription is thought to have been instigated by missionaries in the 19th century, who didn’t want the biblical tempter hanging around. But even back then, it was understood that snakes would drastically upset what we, nowadays, call the “fragile ecosystem” of Hawaii.

So, don’t complain about the lengthy quarantine period. It keeps us all safe. And it has also had the (fully intended) consequence of encouraging local adoption. The Islands are teeming with feral cats and dogs who have run away, or who have been deliberately abandoned. Shelters operated by the local Humane Societies, and the various private animal shelters, all offer free or very low-cost spay/neuter services; they do not allow any animal to be adopted without having first been sterilized. And wherever you go, you’ll see bulletin-boards and classified-ad pages offering free cats and dogs. But there are still more potential pets here than there are potential owners.

Anyone who is contemplating a move to Hawaii ought to give serious thought to acquiring their pets here.

HERE ON THE BIG ISLAND: Battling Those Weed Trees


By Kelly Moran

Battling Those Weed Trees

A few months ago, I wrote about a tree that was brought here from Brazil

and that has gone terribly wild. It’s officially psidium cattleianum, but commonly called “strawberry guava”or waiawi (“vy-vee”), and it’s extraordinarily invasive: seeds from the fruit sprout easily wherever they fall, and are spread by birds and pigs; if the tree is cut down, it quickly regenerates from stumps and fallen branches, ultimately forming a dense thicket in which nothing else grows.

Researchers estimate that waiawi is now entrenched in more than 800,000 acres on the Big Island, and though its range may ultimately be limited by drier microclimates and higher alititudes, it is still in-filling where it’s already established, especially in Hamakua and Puna, where it squeezes out practically everything else, especially native and endemic species. It also draws fruit-flies, expanding their range, which frustrates efforts to cultivate more desireable fruit.

To fight this weed tree, the Hawaii Dept. of Land and Natural Resources, the Hawaii Dept. of Agrictulture, and the Forest Service of the U.S. Dept. of Agriculture propose to introduce a Brazilian insect called tectococcus ovatus,which severely weakens – but doesn’t kill – waiawi. It tunnels into the leaves, forcing the tree to make “galls” that contain the pest, instead of making new leaves. This is expected to slow the spread of waiwai, allowing people more time to cut thickets down and keep them down. The insect has no wings, and can move to adjacent trees only on the breeze; moreover, tests prove that it can live only on strawberry guava and on no other plant; so the release of this biological control agent is considered very safe.

Waiawi does have some practical uses. The fresh fruit, being in the guava family, are easily made into tasty jams and jellies; the wood, like other fruit-woods, makes an excellent smoke for curing meat and fish; and the trunks – if thick and straight enough – can turned into hardwood poles. So there is a small vocal contingent here, mainly in Puna, that objects to introducing tectococcus, in the name of “saving” the waiawi.

But, the USDA counters this misguided effort by pointing out that, if anyone actually wants to cultivate waiawi, or keep wild stands from being infected, they can do what farmers do for any other orchard crop: i.e., protect it with ordinary (preferably organic) insecticidal spray.

There is another invasive weed tree here that was introduced about the same time as waiawi; but it is currently being decimated without human intervention. The rose-apple (syzygium jambos), though not quite as aggressive as waiawi, tends to spread out more, and to form dark “tree-tunnel” arches over back-country roads. The fruit is rather dry: its “rose” being more of a scent than a flavor.

But rose apple trees are being attacked by a “rust fungus” disease that kills new growth and thereby starves the tree of energy. In a couple of years, many stands of rose apple will be bare and dead – and likely will be overtaken by waiawi, which is often found in the same areas.

There is a small but real danger that this rust could spread to other trees in the same (myrtle) family. The worst-case scenario would be a jump to native ohia. So Hawaii forest managers are urging the state to restrict new imports of nursery trees and other plant material that can harbor the rust. For more information about the rust,
click here

HERE ON THE BIG ISLAND – The First Fruits of Summer


By Kelly Moran

The First Fruits of Summer

Subtropical Hawaii does have seasons; and in the late Spring and early Summer, two of our best fruits come ripe: lychee, from China, and mango from the Indian subcontinent.

Anyone who patronized Chinese restaurants in bygone days may remember eating sweet, dried “litchi nuts,” which are to fresh lychee as raisins are to grapes, or prunes to plums. Lychee are almost never found in the wild: they’re raised in orchards of distinctive small trees with wavy, light-green leaves, that require nurturing to produce quality fruits in quantity.

Ripe lychee are about the size of golf balls, with red, rough-textured skin that you peel off by hand. The translucent white fruit tastes like an especially juicy grape. At about twenty to the pound, you can expect to pay three dollars for a pound of lychee. The original Chinese varieties had large seeds; but twentieth-century agronomists developed varieties with small, “shriveled” seeds, that enable each fruit to have more meat; so you may see those labeled “small seed,” in farmers’ market stalls, and they may be priced a bit higher. Like cherries, canned lychee retain almost all of the fresh fruit’s flavor; so if you can’t get to Hawaii during lychee season, buy a can from the “Asian” section of Mainland supermarkets.

Around this time of year, too, local farmers offer a related fruit called longon. Smaller than lychee, and with a stiff, brown skin, the fruit is much sweeter, though in a cloying sort of way; some people construe it as being rather more aromatic than flavorful. Later in the year, another relative, called rambutan, will come ripe: it has a “hairy” skin, and a taste similar to lychee though not as juicy. Rambutan also has a longer season and a longer shelf-life, so it has become extremely popular in local orchards.

The smallest mangoes are the so-called “common” variety, and they are easily spotted from the roadside. The tree is long-lived and enormous: 80 feet or higher, with 30-foot spreads, dark leaves tinged with red, and an abundance of small fruit that depend from long stems. Saplings can sprout from fallen fruit, but in general, wherever you see a mature tree now, there is or was a settlement there.

Mangoes are related – believe it or not – to poison ivy and poison oak. If you have never eaten one before, you’ll quickly discover if you are hyper-sensitive or allergic to them: you may develop a swarm of (harmless) red welts around your lips that local folks call “mango mouth.” With most people, however, this does not happen.

Common mangoes can and do ripen into sweet, juicy delights, but a few varieties have a taste reminiscent of turpentine. The trees being so big, common mangoes are also hard to pick – you need a long pole with a net or basket on the end – and may well have been stung by fruit-flies before you can even get to them. So, many are picked before they’re ripe and turned into chutney, or prepared as savory treats: local recipes for “green” mango famously include marinating the slices in soy sauce (shoyu).

It’s the cultivated mangoes that are the most consistently sweet, and while there are, technically, hundreds of varieties, they fall into just a few general categories that you’ll find in local farmers’ markets right now.

Closest to “common” in size and taste, with the same greenish skin color, are the slightly elongated “cigar” mangoes. Several varieties are larger and longer still, but have a distinctive yellow-orange skin, much like the color of the fruit itself. (In other countries, such as The Philippines, these are the mangoes that are commercially dried and packaged; and except for the absence of juice, dried mangoes taste almost exactly like fresh mangoes.) The largest mangoes are the Hayden variety, which can grow big enough for two people to share. Expect to pay about fifty cents for a common or cigar mango; a dollar apiece for the larger yellow type, and three or four dollars for a giant Hayden.

All mangoes have large, flat seeds; here’s how to get the most meat out of them: Slice the fruit the “long” way, close to either side of the seed, to yield two cupped-hand-shaped halves. Set those halves aside and peel the strip of rind from around the seed; slice off whatever meat you can, into a bowl, and then (as local folks do) suck the rest of the meat from the edges of the seed before discarding it. Now, for each of the two halves, make tic-tac-toe on the flat side with a knife, but don’t pierce through to the skin. Turn the half-mango inside-out, and you produce neat chunks of juicy mango that you can peel or slice off, into your bowl.