Poké is near ubiquitous in Hawaii, served everywhere from run-of-the-mill grocery stores to gas stations, surf shacks, and beyond. The Hawaiian classic is casual, the kind of food you pack into a flimsy plastic cup for the road and eat somewhere on the beach listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Now you can eat new-school versions on the mainland, served atop trendy rice bowls and plated at upscale restaurants, from the sunny shores of Los Angeles to Charleston and Brooklyn. So, what is poké, and what is it doing on the mainland, in places like Boulder, Colorado, that are hundreds of miles from the nearest shore?
Traditionally, poké (pronounced POKE-AY, not POKE-EE) is chunks of tuna marinated in soy and sesame, said Gerald San Jose, co-owner at Noreetuh, a hot new Hawaiian-inspired restaurant in New York. But poké is such a ubiquitous term that it can mean anything chunked, because poké comes from the verb for "to section, slice, or cut" in Hawaiian language, he said. San Jose also mentioned that poké is everywhere in Hawaii; you can go to the nearest grocery store and find 20 different versions, from octopus with a creamy dressing to avocado poké with sesame oil.
When it comes to fish poké, the most common kind is tuna. But don't confuse it with sashimi, tartare, or ceviche. Unlike sashimi, where the fish is sliced thin and long, or tartare, where the fish, often tuna, is diced and held together by a sauce-glue, tuna poké is cut into thick cubes and mixed as a free-form salad. Poké is probably closest to ceviche but, Jesse Sandole, co-owner at 167 Raw in Charleston and Nantucket, which serves its version with tortilla chips, explained the difference: "We like to make the red wine, white wine comparison. Ceviche with all of the bright, acidic flavors speaks more to a white wine, whereas poké has more bold, savory, and rounded flavors that speak more to red wine."
Apart from the acclaimed poké spots on the Hawaiian islands, including the legendary Da Poké Shack in Kailua-Koni, poké shacks and restaurants adding poké-style preparations are popping up all across the country. In New York alone, the Hawaiian restaurant boom has brought with it three places to grab poké in the big city: at Onomea in Brooklyn, at Japanese-Hawaiian restaurant Suzume, and at Noreetuh, the modern Hawaiian restaurant sprucing up traditional poké with pickled jalapeños, fresno peppers, macadamia nuts, and multiple seaweeds. A dedicated poké truck, Poké to the Max by Sam Choy in Bellevue, Washington, boasts the tag-line "Mo poké, mo betta!" and goes all-in on salad bowls, rice bowls, and poké sandwich wraps served with house-made slaw and dressing.
But spend a day down by the shore in San Diego, and you're bound to see poké, snacked on casually with tortilla chips, served with a spoon, or piled on top of rice at South Park Brewing Co., where the dish is customizable à la Chipotle, and even at The Patio in Left Field at Petco Park. Or scope out a poké competition at the I Love Poké fest on Shelter Island in San Diego. Head north to Los Angeles and you'll have your pick of new-school poké places, from Big Daddy's Poké Shack in Venice to the Mainland Poké Shop and Poké Bar, among at least half a dozen others. When we spoke with co-founder Brett Nestadt from Sweetfin Poké about how it's going for the Santa Monica poké shop so far, he said young professionals in Santa Monica are eating it up: "We thought there'd be an adoption period, but right out the gates people were coming in. The idea of eating a bowl as a meal is definitely a food trend right now and people have come to see it as a convenient, accessible way to get a meal in."
Not on the West Coast? Hop a flight to Chicago and chow down on Big & Little's poké tacos, offered in white tuna, salmon, and crab, and smothered in its signature samurai sauce and served on corn tortillas. In the nation's capital, the Hula Girl Bar & Grill pop-up at Pulpo served a poké of the day alongside sweet Hawaiian cocktails and sodas, just to get the vibe right. Tuna poké even finds its way onto the menu at GoBistro, a small ramen noodle bar in Hollywood, just north of Miami, Florida, and on traditional-style menus at Coconut's Fish Cafe, which has expanded beyond Maui to Scottsdale, Dallas, and Plano. In Boulder, Colorado, Motomaki serves fast-casual tuna, salmon, and hamachi poké with Japanese-inspired seasonings for $10 a pop.
The perfect storm of factors has brought tuna poké to the mainland. First, said San Jose, Hawaiian food is becoming more popular: "Hawaiian cuisine on the islands is getting better, too. Chefs are blowing away the stereotype that it's all spam, poi, and pineapple. It's so much better than that." According to Nestadt of Sweetfin, it's perfect timing thanks to diners' growing comfort with raw fish, especially in L.A., a bonafide sushi Mecca. Plus, the rise of the grain bowl—a cheap, quick, easy, and filling snack or lunch—has paved the way for a new topping for rice: fish. Nestadt has even taken to calling Sweetfin's chirashi bowl cousin "Californian poké," because they dress the chunked tuna with different sauces, such as a spicy mayo-inspired togarashi sauce, and put it on rice, kelp noodles, or kale, to serve with a dash of salt, scallion, and blackened sesame seeds. "To have raw fish in a bowl as a more affordable, simpler option than sushi here [in L.A.] seems like a logical progression of the sushi movement," said Nestadt.
Still, the best way to eat poké is in a no-fuss environment (think: spork, plastic cup, beach) with nothing but the freshest fish. Maybe one of these days, we'll get to do what Sandole did: go tuna-fishing 40 miles off the Nantucket shore, fillet half a tuna right on deck, make a giant bowl of poké to eat on the beach, and wash it all down with a few cold beers.