
Chef Makoa
Baked ʻUlu Coconut Pudding (Hawaiian Ripe Breadfruit Custard)
Very ripe Hawaiian ʻulu, the canoe-crop breadfruit, mashed soft with coconut milk and sugar, then baked until the middle sets like a quiet custard.
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Mature Hawaiian ʻulu cut into wedges, par-cooked until it gives, fried golden, and finished with paʻakai. The canoe crop takes the potato's place without pretending to be one.
The canoe carried more than people. It carried the trees that would feed the children not born yet, and in Hawaiʻi one of those trees was ʻulu, breadfruit, standing in the yard like a quiet elder with food hanging from every branch. Back home on Oʻahu, when the fruit was mature and still green, somebody always knew what to do with it. Boil it. Bake it. Fry it. Feed everybody.
This is Hawaiian ʻulu, from Hawaiʻi's hand, but its cousins stand all over the Triangle. Sāmoa calls it ʻulu too, Tahiti says ʻuru, Tonga says mei, the Cook Islands know kuru, and in the cooler south of Aotearoa the kūmara, sweet potato, carried more of that starch work. One ocean, one canoe, one root stock, but never one nameless plate. Each island kept the crop in its own weather, its own language, its own hunger.
Fries are the weeknight shape of an old food. No shame in that. The kūpuna didn't carry ʻulu across the ocean so we could only talk about it in ceremony and never eat it during the game. You cook it until the starch gives, dry it well, fry it golden, and salt it while it shines. The potato can move over a little. The elder tree has been feeding people longer.
ʻUlu was one of Hawaiʻi's canoe plants, carried by Polynesian voyagers as living shoots and root cuttings, then planted beside kalo, ʻuala, maiʻa, and niu as part of an island food system that fed people from their own ʻāina. In 1787, the British sent William Bligh on the Bounty to collect Tahitian ʻuru for plantation food in the Caribbean, which is why many outsiders learned breadfruit through empire before they learned it through the Polynesian people who carried it first. Today, Hawaiian ʻulu is back in food-sovereignty work across the islands, not as a museum piece, but as dinner.
Quantity
1 (2 to 3 pounds)
green and starchy, not soft-ripe
Quantity
1 tablespoon
for rubbing the knife and hands if the ʻulu is sappy
Quantity
1 tablespoon
for the cooking water
Quantity
about 4 cups
or enough for 2 inches in the pot
Quantity
1 1/2 teaspoons
or coarse sea salt, to finish
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
as needed
Quantity
as needed
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| mature firm ʻulu (Hawaiian breadfruit)green and starchy, not soft-ripe | 1 (2 to 3 pounds) |
| neutral oil (optional)for rubbing the knife and hands if the ʻulu is sappy | 1 tablespoon |
| sea saltfor the cooking water | 1 tablespoon |
| neutral frying oilor enough for 2 inches in the pot | about 4 cups |
| paʻakai ʻalaea (Hawaiian red sea salt)or coarse sea salt, to finish | 1 1/2 teaspoons |
| garlic powder (optional) | 1/2 teaspoon |
| lime or calamansi wedges (optional) | as needed |
| Hawaiian chili pepper water (optional) | as needed |
Pick a mature Hawaiian ʻulu, the breadfruit, that is still firm and green, with white sap at the stem and only a little give under your thumb. Soft-ripe ʻulu is sweet and fragrant, good for another table, not for fries. Eat what you have, yeah, but use the right stage for the right work.
Trim off the stem, quarter the ʻulu, cut away the firm core, and peel off the green skin. Slice the flesh into thick wedges, about 3/4 inch wide, like a sturdy potato wedge. Keep the pieces even so they cook together and one cousin doesn't come out hard while the other one falls apart.
Bring a large pot of salted water to a gentle boil, add the ʻulu wedges, and cook 8 to 12 minutes, until a fork slides in with just a little resistance and the edges still hold their shape. You're not trying to make them collapse. You just want the starch cooked through so the fry can crisp outside and stay soft within.
Lift the wedges out and spread them on a rack or a clean towel for 10 minutes. Let the surface dry until it looks matte, not wet. That's where the crisp edge comes from. If you rush this part, the oil has to fight the water first, and the ʻulu won't brown clean.
Heat 2 inches of oil in a heavy pot to 350F. Fry the wedges in small batches, 3 to 5 minutes each, turning once or twice, until the ridges are deep golden and the corners crisp. Don't crowd the pot, and don't fill it more than halfway with oil. Hot oil needs respect, same as fire in the imu.
Move the fries to a rack or brown paper and salt them while the oil sheen is still on the surface. Toss with paʻakai ʻalaea and garlic powder if you're using it, then serve right away with lime, calamansi, or chili pepper water. Put them beside grilled fish, poke, kālua puaʻa, or a plate lunch. Deep food and everyday food can sit on the same table.
1 serving (about 190g)
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Chef Makoa
Very ripe Hawaiian ʻulu, the canoe-crop breadfruit, mashed soft with coconut milk and sugar, then baked until the middle sets like a quiet custard.

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Sweet ripe ʻulu from Hawaiʻi, mashed with mochiko and fried into chewy-crisp little rounds, the old canoe crop meeting island mochi at a Kalihi table.

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Tender slices of Tahitian ʻuru, breadfruit, baked in coconut milk until the edges go gold, with just enough cheese from the French island pantry to brown the top.

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Cook Islands kuru, breadfruit boiled tender, cooled, and tossed with crisp vegetables and a clean lime dressing. The canoe crop comes to the picnic table, unfussy and still full of mana.