Laulau: A Delicious Hawaiian Tradition to Try

On the West Side of Oʻahu, a backyard keiki luau served as the first encounter with laulau for one local lawmaker — a memory that would later fuel a bill to create an official day for the dish. Laulau, a bundle of pork (or chicken) wrapped in taro leaves and steamed, is a direct descendant of the cooking practices Polynesian voyagers brought to Hawaiʻi over a thousand years ago. These settlers carried taro, pigs, and the knowledge of earth ovens across the Pacific, establishing the foundation for a dish that remains central to Hawaiian food culture today.

The proposed legislation — House Bill 957 and Senate Bill 1101 — would celebrate laulau’s cultural significance without adding it to the list of 13 officially observed state holidays. Hawaiʻi already recognizes Buddha Day (April 8), Sakada Day (Dec. 20, honoring Filipino contract workers from 1906–1946), and Kimchi Day (Nov. 22). Whether or not Laulau Day becomes law, the dish itself offers travellers a direct taste of pre-contact Hawaiʻi — with the caveat that finding the real thing requires knowing where to look and what to expect.

Understanding Laulau: From Imu to Modern Kitchen

Laulau begins with pork — traditionally a fatty cut like shoulder or belly — seasoned only with Hawaiian sea salt. The meat is folded into large taro leaves (the same plant whose root becomes poi), then wrapped again in ti leaves, which act as a natural casing and are not eaten. Outside Hawaiʻi, banana leaves substitute for ti leaves. The word laulau comes from the Hawaiian term for “leaf leaf,” describing the double-layer wrapping process.

The original cooking method was the imu, an underground oven using heated stones covered with earth. A four- to five-hour steam in an imu transforms the pork into something tender, juicy, and rich. In modern kitchens, a slow cooker or stovetop steamer replicates the effect, though devotees argue the imu adds a smoky depth that no appliance can match. That tradeoff matters: laulau from a restaurant that still uses an imu will taste noticeably different from a steamed version, but imu-cooked laulau is harder to find and often reserved for special events.

Where to Find Laulau in Hawaiʻi

Laulau is not a single dish but a spectrum. Versions range from the classic pork-only bundle to pork-and-fish combinations, chicken laulau, and even vegetarian variations using mushrooms or jackfruit. The best strategy is to seek out plate lunch counters and small takeout spots rather than luau buffets, where laulau is often steamed in large batches and loses its individual character.

Oʻahu: The Plate Lunch Standard

On Oʻahu, laulau appears on menus from Chinatown hole-in-the-walls to upscale Hawaiian-fusion restaurants. The plate lunch version — laulau served with rice and macaroni salad — is the most accessible entry point for visitors. Local chains like Highway Inn and Helena’s Hawaiian Food have built reputations around their laulau, but smaller operations in Kalihi and Waimānalo often produce more distinctive bundles. The tradeoff: these spots close early, sometimes by 2 p.m., and sell out before lunch ends. A guide to underrated restaurants and food stalls across the islands lists several reliable laulau sources that don’t appear in standard tourist directories.

Hawaiʻi Island: Imu Traditions

The Big Island has the strongest connection to imu cooking, partly because several cultural centres and family-owned operations still maintain underground ovens. Lau lau from an imu has a noticeably different character: the pork is darker, the taro leaves more integrated into the meat, and a faint smokiness lingers in each bite. The downside is availability — imu laulau is often made for specific events or weekends only, not daily. Checking with cultural organisations like the Hawaiian cultural practitioners who maintain the imu tradition can help visitors time their visit to a public imu opening.

Practical Planning for Eating Laulau

Finding good laulau requires adjusting expectations around timing, cost, and preparation. The dish does not travel well — reheated laulau loses the structural integrity of the taro leaves and can turn mushy. Plan to eat it fresh.

How to Eat Laulau

Untie the bundle and unfold the ti leaves — they are not edible. The taro leaves should be eaten with the pork; they soften during cooking and carry a mild, spinach-like flavor with a slight bitterness. Traditional accompaniments include poi (fermented taro root paste), lomi salmon (diced salted salmon with tomato and onion), or simply white rice. The combination of laulau, poi, and lomi salmon is known as a “Hawaiian plate” and represents the three core starches and proteins of pre-contact cuisine.

Seasonal Considerations

Laulau is available year-round, but the quality of taro leaves fluctuates with rainfall. Wet winter months produce larger, more tender leaves; summer leaves can be smaller and tougher, requiring longer cooking times. Some restaurants adjust their steaming schedules seasonally, so laulau ordered in July may cook longer than the same order in January. There is no single “best” season — the tradeoff is between leaf tenderness (winter) and outdoor dining comfort (summer). A guide to sunset dining experiences on the islands notes that many laulau-focused plate lunch counters lack evening hours, making lunch the only window for fresh bundles.

Making Laulau at Home

For visitors who want to recreate the dish after returning home, the process is straightforward but time-intensive. A standard recipe calls for 1½ pounds of pork shoulder or belly cut into chunks, 6–9 taro leaves (or collard greens as a substitute), 3 ti or banana leaves, and 1 tablespoon of Hawaiian sea salt. Prep takes about 20 minutes; cooking takes 5 hours in a steamer or slow cooker.

The substitution of collard greens for taro leaves is the most common adaptation outside Hawaiʻi. Collards are thicker and have a more assertive flavor, but they handle long steaming well. Ti leaves can be replaced with banana leaves, available frozen at most Asian grocery stores. Without either, parchment paper works as a last resort, though it lacks the subtle flavor ti leaves contribute during steaming. A detailed guide to laulau’s evolution from ancient dish to modern delicacy explains how contemporary home cooks have adapted the recipe while preserving its essential structure.

Your Questions About Laulau, Answered

What is laulau made of?

Pork (traditionally shoulder or belly) wrapped in taro leaves, then wrapped again in ti leaves and steamed for 4–5 hours until tender. Some versions use chicken or add fish like butterfish. The ti leaves are not eaten — they act as a natural casing that keeps the bundle intact.

The taro leaves break down during cooking and fuse with the pork, creating a texture that’s neither soup nor solid but something in between. This is why laulau is often eaten with a spoon rather than a fork, especially when the leaves have fully integrated into the meat.

Is laulau healthy?

It depends on the cut of pork. Fatty shoulder or belly makes the most tender laulau but also the highest fat content. Chicken laulau is leaner but can dry out during the long cooking time. The taro leaves themselves are nutrient-dense, rich in vitamins A and C, and contain more protein than most leafy greens.

The bigger consideration is sodium. Hawaiian sea salt is the only seasoning, but the amount varies significantly between recipes. Some plate lunch versions can contain over 1,000 mg of sodium per bundle, especially if the cooking liquid reduces during steaming.

Where can I find laulau outside of Hawaiʻi?

Hawaiian plate lunch restaurants in cities with significant Hawaiian diaspora populations — primarily Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Seattle, and Portland — sometimes carry laulau on their menus. The quality varies widely. Most frozen laulau sold online or in specialty stores uses collard greens instead of taro leaves and cooks at a fraction of the traditional time.

A better option is to make it yourself using the substitution guidelines above, though sourcing fresh taro leaves outside Hawaiʻi requires a specialty Asian grocer. The dish rewards the effort: properly made laulau bears almost no resemblance to the frozen, sauce-laden versions sold as “Hawaiian-style” in mainland supermarkets.

Why does my throat feel scratchy after eating laulau?

This is the calcium oxalate reaction from undercooked taro leaves. The crystals are shaped like microscopic needles and physically irritate throat tissue. Proper steaming for 4–5 hours at a steady temperature breaks these crystals down completely. If you experience this at a restaurant, the laulau was likely rushed.

The reaction is unpleasant but not dangerous in small amounts — drinking milk or eating yogurt can help neutralize the irritation. If it happens consistently at a particular restaurant, consider that a sign of poor preparation rather than a normal characteristic of the dish.

Does laulau traditionally contain fish?

Yes, but the pork-and-fish combination is a specific regional variation rather than the standard. In ancient Hawaiʻi, laulau sometimes included whatever protein was available — pork from domesticated pigs, fish from the reef, or both together. The most common modern fish addition is butterfish (black cod), which adds richness without overwhelming the pork.

The pork-and-fish version is more common on the windward sides of the islands, where fishing traditions remained stronger through the 20th century. Leeward areas tend toward pork-only laulau. Neither version is more “authentic” — both reflect the local resources available to the cooks who developed them.

Finding Your Own Laulau

The proposed Laulau Day legislation names a tension that runs through the entire dish: laulau is both a connection to ancient Hawaiʻi and a living, evolving food adapted by each generation of cooks. The best laulau you eat in Hawaiʻi will not be the most “authentic” in a museum sense — it will be the one made by someone who learned from a family member and adjusted the recipe to what’s available that week. That flexibility, not any single ingredient or method, is what has kept laulau on tables for over a thousand years. For visitors, the practical takeaway is simple: eat it fresh, eat it local, and ask where the taro leaves came from. The regional specialties of the Big Island offer a direct line into this tradition, with laulau that still carries the imprint of the land it came from.

Sources and further reading

Laulau Day would celebrate Hawaiian food culture. Dining and Cooking, 2025.

The best lau lau recipe: Hawaiʻi’s steaming bundle of tradition. Eats History, 2024.

Lau lau: from ancient dish to modern delicacy in Hawaiʻi. Alina Basics, 2024.