A Hawaiian Holiday/Pineapple and Caramel Cake

Writing about a vacation is a little bit like doing it all over again. Now seems like a good time to write about our recent vacation on Big Island, Hawaii. It's been a few weeks since we returned, I am fully steeped in the drudgery of daily life, and Hawaii feels very, very far away.

An attempt to capture lava flow on film

This was our first visit to Big Island, and our second to Hawaii. Like last time, we were impressed by the variety of sights that Hawaii has to offer. On our first day on the island, we saw a sight we'd never seen before - lava spewing out of an active volcano. Hard, black lava rock was everywhere, as far into the distance as we could see - it was what I'd imagine landing on a new planet to be like.

A number of enterprising locals had set up shop right at the entrance to the viewing point, offering bikes for rent, each outfitted with a flashlight, in anticipation of the darkness that would soon descend on us. We joined the stream of bikers, wordlessly biking in single file, together on an adventure in the dark.

Like every extraordinary natural sight, the lava flow was hard to capture on film. Of course, that didn't stop us from trying but there were certainly far more spirited photographers around us, including one who'd managed to carry her tripod all the way.

Hawaii Volcanoes National Park - if you look closely, you can see smoke rising from the caldera

Poke bowl at Hilo farmers' market

Our Airbnb hosts were a couple who had lived on Big Island for decades, and knew all the best local spots. When I asked about the local language, I was told that it's pidgin English. Mike offered an example. "Hanabata days", he said, is the local term for "childhood days". "Hana" is the Japanese word for nose, and "bata" is a bastardized version of butter, making "hanabata" a rather poetic way to refer to snot.

We made sure to visit the Hilo farmers' market, which was high on my list of priorities. Exotic fruits are one of my many weaknesses. The frontyard of my grandparents' home in Kerala housed a cocoa tree. I have fond memories of sucking on the cocoa fruit's sweet and sour pulp on idle afternoons, atop a makeshift swing that my grandfather had set up under the cocoa tree. I don't think I've come across cocoa fruit since those hanabata days. For old times' sake, I bought one from the farmers' market. I also bought a large bag of berries that reminded me of jamuns from Delhi summers, as well as a couple of newly discovered star apples, which reminded me of the flavor and texture of tender coconut.

Star apple

A boxful of cocoa fruits

Even though we had the better part of a week to spend on Big Island, I don't think we were able to do it justice. Big Island truly lives up to its name. It is vast. Getting from one part of the island to another can take hours. We spent more time in the car than we would have liked, but it was all worth it. Our longest car ride on the trip was to Mauna Kea, which is considered the highest island mountain in the world. On clear nights, I am told that being on top of Mauna Kea is like being among the stars. Unfortunately, we ended up at Mauna Kea on a rainy evening. The road to the summit was closed, and the visibility was so poor that there wouldn't have been much point in getting there in any case. So we spent some time at the visitors' center, which is a fair distance away from the summit, watched a short film on the sacred site that is Mauna Kea, and then headed right back, thankful for the jackets, scarves and gloves that we we'd brought along, because it gets chilly that close to the stars. On our way to the visitors' center, our car skidded for a scary moment - it was cold enough for rainwater that had collected on the road to turn into ice. Our visit to Mauna Kea may not have been a success in the traditional sense, but for me it summed up the character of Big Island - vast, unpredictable, and rugged. You have to meet Big Island on its terms.

I skipped the touristy stores on Big Island, and we returned home without souvenirs because none of the tacky knickknacks we came across captured Hawaii's aloha spirit. The other day, I combined a few recipes to bake this Pineapple Caramel Cake, topped with sliced almonds for some crunch. Biting into the bits of pineapple in the cake, I remembered the heady scent of tropical fruits in Hilo's farmers' market and relived our memorable vacation on Big Island for a few moments.

Pineapple and Caramel Cake

Pineapple and Salted Caramel Cake (serves 6-8 comfortably)

To prepare the pineapple, I cut pineapple into small chunks (approx. 1/4-1/2 inch in size), tossed them with some brown sugar and then baked them in a single layer in a preheated oven (on the broil setting, at 500 degree F) for 10-12 minutes until golden brown around the edges. Watch them carefully so they don't burn. The first time I tried this recipe, I used fresh pineapple, which was pretty sweet, allowing me to leave out the sugar. The second time, I used canned pineapple, which needed some sugar to cut down on the tartness. Cooking the pineapple chunks in the oven concentrates the flavor, and caramelizes them, making for a tastier addition to the cake than raw pineapple.

For the caramel sauce, I used this recipe, making only a couple of changes. I added 1/2 tsp vanilla extract and left the butter out. I used light brown sugar, and cooked the mixture for around 10 mins on low-medium heat. The sauce is addictive, with a distinct salty note. If you want to minimize that salty note, you might want to reduce the salt to 1/2 tsp instead of the recommended 3/4 tsp. I found that I didn't need all the caramel sauce for this recipe - leftover sauce can be stored in an airtight container in the fridge.

For the cake, I used this foolproof recipe, substituting the almond flour for the same amount of all-purpose flour. I also omitted the lemon zest (using a couple of teaspoons of vanilla extract instead), and the marmalade glaze. Just before pouring the cake batter into the cake tin, I folded in the caramelized pineapple chunks. You may swirl the desired quantity of caramel sauce into the cake batter before baking. Alternatively, pour it over the cake after it is done, and has been taken out of its tin, and upturned on a flat tray. Both versions work well. I had plenty of leftover sauce.

PS: I realize this is a lazy way to write a recipe, but it is a sunny day in San Francisco, and I really should head out.