Punu Pua'atoro: Spam of the Gods

Poisson Cru, a delicate and healthy raw fish salad, is the star of French Polynesian cuisine and most visitors think of it as the country's national dish. Tahitians do eat lots of poisson cru but beyond restaurant menus and within family kitchen walls, the most popular dish in the country is by far Punu Pua'atoro, canned corned beef and Tahiti's answer to Spam.

Chock full of fat and nitrites, Punu Pua'atoro is deliciously salty and addictively tasty. It's also very easy to prepare. At home most folks fry it up in a pan with onions and serve it with roast breadfruit. At picnics the Punu Pua'atoro tin is heated directly in the fire next to a charring breadfruit. In fact, the meat is so linked to breadfruit that I've heard stories of doctors who have told local diabetics and cholesterol sufferers to stop eating breadfruit - they know that if people don't eat breadfruit, they won't eat Punu Pua'atoro either. It sounds nicer to tell someone to stop eating their fruits and veggies than something meaty and yummy.

Punu Pua'atoro in the no-nonsense Tahitian language literally means "horned pig in metal." Even though most people are now aware that salty canned meat isn't really good for them, a near mystical, back-to-the-roots aura surrounds it as a distinctly Polynesian dish. If you eat Punu Pua'atoro you're a local; if you turn your nose up at it, you're kind of an asshole. It's the cool kid thing to bring along on picnics and everyone will nod in approval and take a little whether they like it for real or not. It's ironic that what has become a symbol of island cuisine is made from an animal that hardly exists in Polynesia, doesn't even have it's own real Tahitian name and makes so many people sick and overweight. But there you have it, like smoking cigarettes, sometimes being hip and sensory enjoyment takes priority of over reason.

I happen to love Punu Pu'atoro but eat it only a few times a year, mostly at picnics with my cool back-to-the-roots Tahitian buddies. Yeah, I admit, I care a little about my image but I also do love the salty, fatty taste when sopped up on a piece of hot, chestnut-like breadfruit. I don't buy Punu Pua'atoro and it makes me feel sick every time I do eat it, but I relish those moments around the fire pit, eating just cooked yummy food to the sound of ukulele.

Poisson Cru Recipe

If French Polynesia had a national dish it would surely be poisson cru. While poisson cru literally means "raw fish" in French, it's less daring but tastier than the name suggests. The chunks of fresh fish are first marinated in lemon juice which "cooks" them slightly, are then mixed with fresh salad veggies and lastly doused in coconut milk. I have never met anyone who doesn't like poisson cru, it's on nearly every menu in the country and in a way its flavor defines Polynesia - sweet, refreshing, tender and exotic.

Most of the time poisson cru is made with fresh tuna but it can be made with other fish too. In the Tuamotus it's often made with parrotfish, it can be made with jack fish, halibut or snapper and I have friends in Canada who claim to have made it with fresh salmon with great success. Some people add chopped garlic or ginger but I've found that simpler is better - nothing beats the unadorned mix of lemon and coconut milk.

Poisson Cru
1/2 kilo (about 1 lbs) fresh yellowfin tuna cut into 1 inch cubes
3/4 cup fresh lime or lemon juice (or a mix of both - the lemons or limes shouldn't be too sour or bitter)
2 chopped tomatoes
½ small onion finely chopped
1 chopped cucumber
1 shredded carrot
1 green bell pepper thinly sliced (optional)
1 cup coconut milk (canned is OK but fresh is best)
spring onion or parsley (optional)

Take the tuna chunks and soak in a bowl of seawater or lightly salted fresh water while you chop the tomatoes, onion, cucumber, carrot and bell pepper - locals swear this makes the fish more tender. Remove the tuna from the salt water and place in a large salad bowl. Add the lemon or lime juice and leave the fish to marinate for about three minutes. Pour off about ½ to 2/3 of the juice (depending on how lemony you like it) then add the vegetables and toss together with the fish. Pour the coconut milk over the salad and add salt and pepper to taste. Garnish with chopped spring onion or parsley and serve with white rice.

Fishing the Side of the Road

"What a beautiful fish did you catch it yourself?"
"Yeah I caught it on the side of the road."
Or so goes the local joke.

People who come to Tahiti for the first time often scoff at the fish being sold along the roadside. They turn up their noses at the supposed flies and the high outdoor temperatures that are surely making it rot on fast forward. But locals know better. Roadside fish is fisherman direct, rarely more than a half-day old and costs a fraction of what you pay at the supermarket (where the fish is usually around three days old and has probably seen many more flies). A giant slab of sashimi quality tuna that can generously feed four people costs 1000 CFP (about US $12) and most of what's for sale is bought up by hungry locals within a few hours.

On good days you'll find glimmering gold and blue mahi mahi, octopus, ume (unicorn fish) and of course lots and lots of tuna. The strings of small lagoon fish usually have been shipped from the Tuamotus and these are the exception to the rule - they are possibly a week old (or more) and often rotten. I have never figured out how they keep up the market for these sorry looking fish - everyone I know who has bought them swears to never do it again.

Luckily for me, I'm married to a fishing fanatic so I get free lagoon fish direct from the lagoon to the table a couple times a week. When we have company though, or when Josh has been too busy to fish, I head to the side of the road and dangle my 1000 CFP bill for some tuna to make the local raw fish favorites: sashimi, poisson cru or carpaccio.