The Attorney General is uneasy about such protections, fearful they would break interstate commerce rules.


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France has Champagne. Italy has Parmigiano-Reggiano. Should Hawaiʻi claim poi?

Some farmers and poi producers think so, enough to lobby the state government to protect the name, prevent offshore crops from being pounded with locally grown poi products and stop foreign operations from co-opting the dish.

The Legislature is now weighing how best to safeguard local farmers and the culturally important starch they produce by adding poi to an expanding list of foods and crops the state has stepped in to help in recent years, māmaki tea and Kona coffee among them. 

The pasty staple — composed of water and pounded ʻulu (breadfruit), ʻuala (sweet potato), uhi (yams) or, the most popular and traditional, kalo (taro) — has sustained Native Hawaiians and residents of Hawaiʻi for thousands of years. But it remains uncertain whether Hawaiʻi can legally claim the name to protect the product, which accounts for about half of the state’s total 4.8 million-pound annual kalo harvest.

The Hawai‘i Senate passed a bill last week to require any product labeled, marketed or sold as poi to declare where its ingredients were grown. That legislation is now in the hands of the House, which will start its review in an agriculture committee hearing Wednesday. 

Daniel Anthony’s son Puea, 7, kui (pounds) ulu Thursday, Oct. 17, 2024, in Kaneohe. He pounded kalo first (foreground). It sits to rest. (Kevin Fujii/Civil Beat/2024)
Poi can be produced by pounding an array of different starches, from kalo to ʻulu. (Kevin Fujii/Civil Beat/2024)

Native Hawaiian organizations and some local producers have been supportive of the move. Kanekoa Kukea-Shultz, executive director of the nonprofit Kākoʻo ʻŌiwi, says the effort is intended to “make sure the poi we’re eating in Hawai‘i is grown in Hawaiʻi and in the best conditions.”

Kākoʻo ʻŌiwi grows kalo and mills poi, drawing on its own supply and that of eight contracted growers statewide, paying about $3 per pound. But the kalo industry has been turbulent in recent years, with producers and poi mills trying to find common ground. Some producers have said they’re not harvesting crops because of a shortage of demand, while some poi mills have said they cannot get enough raw product at the right price.

That has fed rumors that imported taro has been making its way into Hawai‘i’s poi mills because the price is typically more stable and cheaper. That’s what led Kukea-Shultz to work with lawmakers to introduce the legislation.

“Their point in asking for the bill is that poi should be made from taro in Hawai‘i,” said Sen. Jarrett Keohokalole, who chairs the Commerce and Consumer Protection committee. “Poi is poi because it is Hawaiian, right?”

Large lu’au (leaves) of kalo thrive while Keoni Resurrection harvests them to make laulau Wednesday, Oct. 14, 2024, in Waimanalo. The white spot at top center is flare from photographing into the light. (Kevin Fujii/Civil Beat/2024)
Large lu’au leaves, grown from kalo, are also eaten as part of the traditional Native Hawaiian diet. (Kevin Fujii/Civil Beat/2024)

Despite kalo being one of the most prolific crops in Hawaiʻi, with a rich history of feeding people for thousands of years, the cost of producing the crop locally is far more than bringing it in from other nations due to labor, land and supply chain issues.

The bill’s supporters nevertheless believe that supporting local farmers’ kalo cultivation will help poi retake its place as a staple in Hawaiʻi residents’ diets. That will ultimately benefit the state’s food security, Kukea-Shultz said.

The bill could mirror laws developed in the European Union that protect certain traditional food from being produced outside their traditional areas of origin or in nontraditional ways, or from sharing the same name as those products. Champagne, for example, must come from its eponymous region in France, while Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese must be produced in Parma, Italy.

Brand protections for Champagne are built into an international trade agreement, while Hawaiʻi’s poi protections would be covered by the same state-level statutes that regulate the marketing of local koa wood, coffee, macadamia nuts and seashells from Niʻihau.

Still, Kukea-Shultz said, treating the dish like Champagne is something he would like to see happen in Hawaiʻi with poi.

Protected Designation 

Lawmakers introduced the poi protection measure midway through the current session by using a short-form bill — empty legislation used as insurance for late measures — that has been revised heavily since its introduction.

Some have raised concerns that the bill would unduly narrow the dish’s definition, excluding other native starches. The Attorney General flagged the bill as a potential breach of free speech and interstate commerce laws.

House of Representatives Action during the First Day of the First Crossover of 2025.(David Croxford/Civil Beat/2025)
Sen. Jarrett Keohokalole largely supports the idea of protecting poi, though it must abide by state and federal laws, which requires some compromise. (David Croxford/Civil Beat/2025)

In one iteration, the bill declared that poi could only be produced in Hawaiʻi from Hawaiʻi-grown kalo, which the AG’s office said would effectively discriminate against other states that might want to manufacture and sell poi. It has since been revised.

Keohokalole, who is a non-voting member of the Native Hawaiian Intellectual Property Working Group that advises lawmakers on how to better preserve and protect Indigenous culture and traditional knowledge, says the use of Hawaiʻi’s terms is a consistent issue for Hawaiʻi.

Out-of-state businesses and organizations co-opting Hawai‘i for commercial gain comes up time and again, he said, including Aloha Poke, originally from Illinois; King’s Hawaiian Rolls, from California; and Hawaiian Brand potato chips, from Washington. Those brands are then sent to the state and compete with genuinely Hawaiʻi-made products.

“That’s where it gets particularly aggravating,” Keohokalole said. “When not only is the term co-opted but co-opted to the detriment of Hawaiʻi.”

This ongoing series delves deep into what it would take for Hawai‘i to decrease its dependence on imported food and be better positioned to grow its own.

Since it appears impossible to regulate that kind of behavior, lawmakers have changed their approach, potentially adding poi to a list of foods with stricter labeling rules.

Legislation forcing greater transparency in poke, another Hawaiian staple, is sailing through the session largely unopposed. That bill calls for the origins of ahi poke’s chief ingredient, tuna, to be explicitly clear — something the dish isn’t currently subject to due to regulatory loopholes. 

Lawmakers briefly considered taking a sweeping approach to regulating products using Hawaiʻi’s name last year, regulating everything from nuts to honey. That was considered too broad to be particularly effective.

Rep. Kirstin Kahaloa, who introduced the 2024 legislation, says it may be time to revisit the idea of creating an omnibus bill to save the state from continuing a piecemeal approach.

Pounding The Bill Into Shape

Lawmakers anticipate jousting breaking out between the larger and smaller poi mills statewide as the bill continues to progress through the legislative session, which ends in early May.

That would mirror previous disagreements over labels and the origins of raw commodities.

Poi is produced by organizations of all sizes, though the main market is mostly dominated by less than a handful of mills, including Taro Brand and Hanalei Poi Co.

Larger producers tend to argue that they need to supplement their supply with offshore products because they are cheaper and more readily available. Smaller producers argue that using imported goods is disingenuous and bigger mills are unwilling to pay farmers sufficiently.

“I think the biggest problem is that we talk about taro and its importance but we’re not pushing enough to grow the demand for it,” said Keanue Kekaula of Pomai Kulolo, which produces traditional Hawaiian staple foods, including poi.

Pomai Kulolo’s He Mea Ono Poi is for sale at Times Supermarket Friday, Oct. 11, 2024, in Waipahu. The price of kalo has gone up. Some local poi makers are importing kalo to keep prices down. (Kevin Fujii/Civil Beat/2024)
Pomai Kulolo’s He Mea Ono Poi can be found in stores around the state, derived from ʻuala, or sweet potato. Poi can be made with many traditional starches. (Kevin Fujii/Civil Beat/2024)

More demand means more farmers growing more kalo, which would help stabilize the price in the face of shocks, Kekaula said.

Kekaula, who opposed an earlier draft of the bill, told lawmakers last month that he processed more than 1.7 million pounds of kalo and over 100,000 pounds of ʻuala during the past four years.

“It is hard to get kalo; sometimes there’s a glut and sometimes it’s short,” Kekaula said of the supply.

Kekaula, who makes ʻuala poi, says his company looked into using imported kalo — which comprises 16% of the state’s taro market — but decided against it.

But there are plenty more poi pounding mills around the state, with large markets, whose products are found in groceries and big box stores.

Whether the mills are using imported kalo or not, the bill’s labeling requirements will protect the homegrown producers, said Kukea-Shultz of Kākoʻo ʻŌiwi.

Senate Bill 890 has to clear three committees in the House to stay alive, starting this week with the Agriculture and Food Systems Committee, chaired by Kahaloa.

And while it appears lawmakers are unable or unwilling to entertain a Champagne-like designation for poi, Kukea-Shultz said, “raising awareness with the consumers, with labels, would be a start.”

Hawai‘i Grown” is funded in part by grants from the Stupski Foundation, Ulupono Fund at the Hawai‘i Community Foundation and the Frost Family Foundation.

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