So, we heard all about pasteles, which the local-locals don’t pronounce as pah-stehl-ehs. They leave out the “s” and it becomes pateles. And I was like, “Yeah. I know what those are. What’s the big deal? I want one.” They’re like tamales. And me and tamales–we’re like extra BFFs.
Come closer. You want to try one of Malia’s pasteles. No. Scratch that. You want to try about a dozen of them.
This is Malia. And I love her. She probably won’t even remember me. (Malia, if you ever happen to stumble upon this post, I just want you to know that I was really grumpy and didn’t want to get out of the car to take pictures of your truck. I had a scowl on my face the entire time–even though you are as darling as can be. I was mad at my husband. What can I say? I was. But you know what changed that? Your pasteles. That’s what. They made me and my tummy very happy. I’m coming back to see you.)
This sign? It should read instead: Bet you can’t eat just one.
Malia! You gorgeous lady! I want to spend an afternoon with you while you show me how to make pasteles.
This is a popular place to stop. There were other BBQ trucks in the same area. Never (since NYC) have I seen a place so chock full of food trucks like I saw on Oahu. And there ain’t nuttin’ wrong with that. I’m telling you. I approve. Except when they move and I’m only in town for a few days. On the next trip, we’re making sure we stop by a Leonard’s Malasadas truck.
Another thing I loved about Hawaii–free range chickens. :)
So, here’s the low-down on pasteles/pateles. They are sort of like tamales, only instead of corn masa, the dough is made from green bananas (plantains). They are incredible. I don’t know exactly what the filling was other than awesome.
Oh, Hawaii. You are the perfect mix of cultures, foods and wonderful people. I can’t quit you. My first time and I was hooked.