Liliko'i, Liliko'i, Liliko'i

When we came to Big Island we didn't expect to spend so much of our time dominated by one fruit. We've mentioned liliko'i (Hawaiian for passionfruit) here on the blog, among other tropical fruits. We knew the flavor to be popular in local cuisine (liliko'i cheesecake, liliko'i cocktails, and soda pop are common). There was a vine on our previous farm that dropped fruit now and then, which we ate and enjoyed, and we saw the plant growing elsewhere in Kona. So we thought we knew liliko'i.

We were wrong.

Crash course: liliko'i is a vining plant that works its way up trees. It produces firm, egg-shaped fruit that turn from green to bright orange, yellow, red, or purple as they mature. They fall to the ground when ripe, the husk being thick enough to absorb the impact. You bite them open and suck out the insides, seeds and all. Imagine a tiny, tree-hung melon. If you eat them fresh they are sour in a pleasant way, but some locals don't consider them truly ripe until they've begun to shrivel like prunes. They say it taste sweet, but we think that's a myth, though. Shriveled ones are no more sweet or sour than the fruit-to-fruit variation you find in "fresh" ones.

We knew that before coming here. What we didn't understand was how staggeringly productive liliko'i vines can be in season. The mangoes that litter Middle Ke'ei Road have nothing on the sheer volume that we cope with on our new farm. There's about 50 vines here! In greatest abundance are the red and yellow liliko'i, roughly the same size and with the same deliciously tart flavor. We also have smaller, dark purple ones that are much sweeter. They taste almost like a berry. Giant liliko'i are more mellow in flavor, and the rinds are actually edible, much like a melon, though we don't care for them as we both find them a bit mealy. The smallest variety, marble liliko'i, are just a nuisance. They're almost impossible to crack open, and with so little juice in such a small fruit, it's not worth the effort. They are, however, dangerous underfoot on the slopes of the farm.

Harvesting liliko'i has become a daily chore. On average, we fill at least one five gallon bucket with fruit everyday. If that doesn't sound like much, imagine how quickly it adds up. Imagine, too, the time that it takes to crack open each one and scoop the guts out – a task we are currently doing at least twice a week – and then juicing on top of that. We're talking several hours, the better part of an afternoon.

(To add to the fun, please also consider the fact that the vines here are growing through macadamia nut trees. Mac nuts are small, hard and almost perfectly round - which on steep slopes make for as sure footing as ball bearings. We're not complaining (we did come here to work, after all) but we remain impressed.)

So why, you ask, are we juicing the fruit?

It's a sad but true fact that small famers have a hard time supporting themselves directly selling their raw goods these days. Some can still make ends meet through sourcing to farmer's markets or local grocery stores, and others apply for agricultural grants or take outside jobs. But an increasingly popular way to help increase revenue for the small farmer is to offer value added products directly to consumers – be it mixed salad greens, jam, or blueberry muffins. Liliko'i juice is an essential ingredient to the aforementioned cocktails and cheesecake.

The economics of VAPs are something we're still getting our heads around, and liliko'i juice is a good example. The local health food store sells organic fruit for $1.50/lb. The farm sells the juice to a local restaurant for $45 a gallon.

The empty husks make good goat chow, too.