Gummie Experiment

Vodka-soaked gummie bears?  This came up in conversation toward the end of a shift at the zoo not too long ago.  The keepers and other volunteers collected under the hau tree to escape the sun while waiting out the final 30 minutes until the lunch break.  Somehow the topic shifted to a news story about teenagers taking gummie bears to school to snack on, only these gummie bears deliver more than just a sugar high.  We were all astounded to hear that the tiny fruity candy could be a turned into an on-the-go jello shot.  I decided to investigate.

After a little searching on the Internet, I found many resources for how to go about intoxicating the gummies.  I bought a couple of brands of candy and used a variety of liquor, stuff we had in the fridge.  A common suggestion was to soak the gummies in liquor for 5 days to allow them time to fully saturate.  I chose to keep them submerged for a couple of days.

I layered the gummies in the bottom of the glasses before pouring in enough vodka or rum to cover them completely.  Then, I used cellophane and a rubber band to seal the glass.  I wrote on the rubber band to identify which liquor was in which.  After making room in the fridge, I let them sit overnight.

The following day I gave each glass a little shake and noticed that the bears were already growing, kind of like those little sponge pills that grow into a dinosaur when water is added to them.  I love those.

Just to determine how potent these little critters may be, I popped one into my mouth.  WHOA!  A handful of these would do a lot of damage.  The fumes alone are enough to make your eyes tear.  With a burning tongue, I put them back in the fridge.

Once ready, the bears take on a glassy look and are very swollen.

Jeff was willing to taste test, so I made some with Haribo, his favorite brand.  The looks he gave were priceless.

The flavor was not pleasing.  Neither was the burning sensation that lingered in the mouth.  Down the drain they went, though I took a few to pass out to the keepers at the zoo (to enjoy after hours, of course).  I can't imagine what they would taste like after 5 days bathing in the vodka.  I'll stick with a traditional jello shot in the future, or better yet, a good glass of wine.

Lei Making

In preparation for our upcoming performance at the hula festival, kumu held a lei-making get-together at her home Monday night for our halau.  Everyone was to pick 30 ti leaves, cut them, and prepare half (freeze them).  I hadn't much luck finding green ti leaf (red are everywhere) until I noticed them in the keiki zoo last week.  Nancy helped me pick all 30. Phew.

We all showed up to kumu's around 6pm for our 3-hour work session.  Each of us needed wrist and ankle lei, called kupe'e.  Since these are easiest to prepare, Leialoha wanted the newbies to start here, so she showed a few of us the twisting technique.  Four or five of the dozen people in attendance have already made these simple kupe'e.  To make, two ti leaves are knotted together and placed between the big and second toe.  Pulling taut, the right hand twists the leaf to the right then crosses it over the left.  This process continues until a new leaf must be added on for length.  When the desired length is achieved, another knot is tied. Kumu wanted these to wrap around our ankle/wrist twice. These pieces took only about 45 minutes to make.

Next, Leialoha began demonstrating how to make the lei.  She was one of two people who knew how to do this.  This process was more complicated than making the kupe'e and made easier when working in pairs.  After we'd cut a pile of leaves into smaller strips, Lani and I were ready to begin.  This lei begins with two leaves being knotted together. The twisting is the same as for the kupe'e, only after every other twist, 3 pinched ti leaf strips are added in.  This is the hardest part to do one-handed.  I did all the twisting and pulling while Lani handed me the 3 pinched leaves.  Though I did the brunt of the work, it was still quicker than making it all on my own.  Each of these lei had to be six feet long and took roughly an hour to make.

Kumu is on the far right.

 

Taking these pictures with my left, sticky hand, was not easy.

By the time we finished my lei, my hands and foot were all green and sticky from the leaf juice.  My back was beginning to hurt like crazy as were my knees.  The sitting positions needed to do this work were terribly uncomfortable, especially for hours.  After rinsing my hands off, we began preparing new leaves for Lani's lei.  I think it was nearing 8 at this time, which was a bad sign, since we all thought we'd be done by 9 at the latest.  With another lei to make, along with a lei po'o, the headpiece, I was expecting to be at kumu's much later.  My stomach was beginning to get angry and my hand was already losing grip.

Lani and I worked feverishly to complete her lei in less time than it took to make the first one.  We did a good job and cut off a little time.  Meanwhile, the older ladies in the group took to telling somewhat inappropriate stories, giggling to themselves and causing brows to raise.  It was quite funny.  Kumu is not bashful, that's for sure!

Leialoha was able to show four of us how to make the lei po'o, the spiky head wreath.  I was pretty disappointed to find out that it's the most difficult to make.  At 8:45pm, covered in green goop, with incredibly stiff muscles, and an empty stomach, I was not excited to be undertaking the biggest challenge of the night.  And, most of Lani's leaves and mine had been used by those around us, so we were left with extra cutting and preparing for much longer than others.  Boy, Lani was irritated at that!  I had been looking forward to this new experience, but my aching muscles were distracting me from enjoying much of the project.

The lei po'o is a braid, not a twist.  Three ti leaves are knotted together, placed in between the toes and braided for an inch or so.  This is where it gets very tricky.  Two cut, pinched ti leaf strips are placed in the braid.  One long strand ti leaf crosses over, the small pieces are then folded up (in half) then another set of two ti leaves are pinched and added.  It's not intuitive and super easy to mess up, especially when adding in leaves to make the strands longer.  A lady sitting next to me (can't remember how to say her Hawaiian name) got about 6 inches in when she got stuck.  Leialoha tried to help but ended up having to take it all apart and restart. 

Lani and another lady worked together, and I made mine by myself.  We were all getting cranky and sore.  Finally, just before 10pm, I finished my last piece.  I helped clean up a bit then began the drive back over the mountains.  Boy, did it feel good to sit in a seat!  My back!  Ouch!  I was relieved that the traffic home was light, even near our house where the APEC craziness is in full swing.

My pile of lei.

My lei are in two containers taking up quite a bit of space in the refrigerator.  I hope they stay looking fresh for our performance this weekend! 

Breadfruit Experiment

Next time you visit the Honolulu Zoo, be sure to stop in the Keiki Zoo.  Just to the left of the entrance, near the overstocked Koi pond that also has as few ducks milling about, is the breadfruit tree that all of the Samoan security guards lust over.  This tree has the tastiest breadfruit around, and I got to have some.  Twice.

I'd noticed the gigantic green orbs while raking the grass near the pond and asked about them during a casual conversation with Les, a kind zoo volunteer I've met recently.  I found myself involved in a new project.  Les couldn't believe that I'd never had breadfruit, deciding to take matters into his own hands immediately.  The final ninety minutes of the zoo shift finds the keepers and volunteers searching for odd jobs to do to stay busy, talking, or spending time on smartphones, so we were all in for a little action.  A small group of us followed Les to the massive tree, our interest instantly piqued when he came out of the shed with a huge fishing net.  It didn't look like he was interested in the low hanging fruit.

A breadfruit that's ready to be eaten will have white milky droppings all over it, appearing to have been recently pooped on by one of the feral pigeons.  It certainly doesn't look appealing at first glance.  After Les reached and tugged at a high, oozing breadfruit, we all heard a, "Dunk!" before a big splash startled the ducks.  The breadfruit had fallen into the pond.  Ick.  Les fished it out and handed it to me, sopping wet and sticky.  All I could do was smile and say thanks.

With fifteen minutes left of our shift, I held onto the giant ball, similar in size to a coconut, trying not to look awkward.  Several visitors asked me what I had, and why.  There were no real easy answers.  Les shared his methods for cooking the starch, but no one was sure about how to tell when it would be ripe enough to eat.  When the security guard came to relieve us (they keep watch of the petting areas while everyone takes lunch), I asked him for some tips, which he was happy to share.

The nice Samoan told me to keep my new prize on the counter at home for a couple of days to let it get a little soft, like an avocado.  In the meantime, I looked online to find recipes and suggestions for how to prepare it.  The security guard wasn't kidding when he told me to use an empty can to shave off its skin.  I found a YouTube video that did just that.  Well, since we're leasing a furnished condo, I decided to avoid ruining a knife trying to cut a can of beans in half, especially since I've broken 3 or 4 water glasses and two wine glasses in the past 5 months.  It's not me; they're super cheap.  And, I'm klutzy.  Mostly, they're super cheap.

Notice the poop-like white milky markings.  I'm not too sure what the dark spot are, but no one seemed alarmed.

I chose the easiest method: to just cut the thing open with a good ole fashioned knife, chop it up into cubes, then boil it for a few minutes.  I wasn't making this for a dinner party or anything, more because Les picked it for me.  I didn't expect to get Jeff to eat much and didn't want to take too much time preparing anything gourmet.  The thing did fall into a nasty pond for heaven's sake.  I guess Jamaican style would've been even easier, since after a couple of cuts, the whole thing goes in the oven to bake for an hour.  As previously stated, we're leasing a condo. 

I only used a quarter, not intending to ruin my dinner.  After 10 minutes in boiling water, I called it ready.  A tiny bit of butter, salt, and pepper, and it's done. 

Absolutely tasted like a potato with a hint of sweet at the finish.  Also, it's a touch stickier than potato.  I convinced Jeff to take a bite.  He made a face during the entire process, even while just picking up a fork to stab a chunk.  He didn't mind it but has preconceived notions about texture and sets himself up.  I don't expect that this will become a staple in our household.

The next week at the zoo, I told of my tasting and enjoyment of preparing the breadfruit.  One of the zoo volunteers is a successful chef who gloated about his amazing breadfruit dishes.  This spurred on the suggestion to hold a potluck lunch where Tony would make us a scrumptious dish using the breadfruit from the zoo.  He did not let us down.  I'm not sure what was in his mash besides butter, chives, salt, and pepper, but it was super good.  I even had seconds.