As national chains increasingly dominate Hawaiʻi’s grocery options, Big Island residents remain devoted to KTA, with its emphasis on locally grown food.

Makana Eyre: In A Sea Of Mainland Grocers, A Taste Of Old Hawaiʻi

As national chains increasingly dominate Hawaiʻi’s grocery options, Big Island residents remain devoted to KTA, with its emphasis on locally grown food.

Derek Kurisu, executive VP for KTA Superstores, looks out over the floor at the KTA Superstore at Pūʻainakō in Hilo. (Jamm Aquino/Civil Beat/2026)

What did it take for Derek Kurisu to get a job at KTA? He had to prove he could haul a 100-pound bag of rice.

With the manager watching, he hoisted one of the hefty woven sacks and carried it fifty feet. The job was his.

That was in 1968, when Kurisu was still in high school. Except for a stint on Oʻahu during college, he has worked at the grocery company ever since. Now 74, he is its executive vice president tasked with managing local suppliers, sourcing, product development and community relationships.

“My employee number is 11,” he told me with a chuckle.

KTA has become a lifelong attachment for Kurisu, and the same holds true for thousands of Big Island families. For many of them, it begins in childhood — shopping for poi, bitter melon or natto with Tūtū, Popo or Obāchan — and carries on into adulthood and old age, only for the cycle to repeat.

With so many national brands shaping the retail landscape of Hawaiʻi, KTA is an outlier. It’s where “local” isn’t a marketing ploy, where shoppers aren’t confronted with punchy marketing copy about heritage or artisanship. 

The grocery chain works to stock stores with as much locally grown produce as possible. Derek Kurisu, right, executive VP for KTA Superstores, shares a laugh with a customer in the produce aisle inside the KTA Superstore at Pūʻainakō. (Jamm Aquino/Civil Beat/2026)
“The next generation farmers are so vital to our future,” Derek Kurisu said. Kurisu and Lew Nakamura, right, associate professor of agriculture at Hawaiʻi Community College, joke with Hawaiʻi Community College students Olena Hovey, left, and Nālani Blanco-Louis as they work at UH Hilo’s farm and agriculture site in Hilo. (Jamm Aquino/Civil Beat/2026)
Hawaiʻi produce accounts for the majority of the product on the shelves and bins at KTA Superstore in Pūʻainakō. (Jamm Aquino/Civil Beat/2026)

KTA, which has stores only on the Big Island, is loved for selling local delicacies and ingredients — the sort of things you’d struggle to find at Target or Walmart.

People come back, I suspect, because it feels like one of those increasingly rare places where, against the odds, ordinary Hawaiʻi life persists.

Kurisu, who was born in the historic sugar town of Hakalau on the Hamakua Coast, is grounded in that ordinary life.

“I grew up on a sugar plantation where everybody worked together, helped each other as one big family. I try to incorporate the same kind of philosophy in our company.”

For many KTA customers, the generational connection runs deep. Pohai Montague-Mullins, a retired teacher at Ke Kula ʻO Nāwahīokalaniʻōpuʻu, said she was raised by her mother on food bought from KTA. Now her children feed their children from the store’s shelves.

“It’s a gathering place,” she told me. “I can go to Target and Walmart, and I’ll never see anybody I know. I go to KTA, I see eight people.”

Navigating Storm After Storm

Part of KTA’s improbable success is that it started out as a mom and pop store, 110 years ago. Back then, Hawai‘i was filled with groceries like KTA. A small fraction of them survive to this day. 

Koichi and Taniyo Taniguchi founded the company in Hilo in 1916 to serve workers from the plantations. In 1939, they expanded to another Hilo location. 

Yet it wasn’t until the 1950s and ’60s that the store grew into a modern supermarket chain. Through the 1980s and into the 1990s it expanded to six locations and eventually launched its Mountain Apple Brand, which sells Hawaiʻi-grown and made products.

The company’s rise hasn’t come without considerable headwinds, including the 1946 and 1960 tsunamis. The former destroyed KTA’s original storefront. The latter nearly killed one of its owners.

Shoppers scan the aisles for a variety of groceries, which include ready-made foods and even omiyage — region-specific items given as gifts in Japan — at the KTA Superstore at Pūʻainakō. (Jamm Aquino/Civil Beat/2026)

Then came another inundation: the arrival of national chains and big-box stores with their low prices and massive scale.

KTA survived them too. In fact, at a time marked by the closure of local businesses — most recently, Tamashiro Market — KTA is growing, if slowly and deliberately. Today they have seven markets and a pharmacy and employ more than 800 people. 

In response to some of my recent columns, feisty commenters accused me of being nostalgic for a Hawaiʻi that no longer exists. Move on, they prodded, things change, get over it.

But don’t get me wrong. This ode to KTA is not out of a longing for some old Hawaiʻi, one now wrecked by Walmart or Whole Foods or tourists. It instead comes from frustration that our country as a whole feels increasingly placeless, where huge national companies flatten out local and regional cultures.



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Those big-box stores that set up shop in Hilo over the last thirty years stock the same Dove soap, Band-Aids, bananas, Cheerios, Colgate toothpaste, and thousands of products that they do in Beavercreek, Ohio, Surprise, Arizona or any other corner of the union. 

The problem of uniformity is particularly acute in the grocery world. Today, just four companies — Walmart, Kroger, Aldi and Albertsons — own a third of all American grocery store locations.

What’s more, between 1990 and 2019, the 20 biggest retailers more than doubled their control of food sales in America.

This trend is visible elsewhere across our economy, too. How many independent pharmacies, bookstores, hotels, media outlets or hardware stores remain in the islands?

This is the environment in which KTA, still owned by the same family, has thrived. 

So, how have they done it?

Brady Yagi, president of Kulana Foods, checks on whole sides of Parker Ranch beef at the company’s USDA slaughter facility in Hilo. Kulana Foods processes all of the local meats, including crafting the popular Portuguese sausage, for KTA Superstores. (Jamm Aquino/Civil Beat/2026)
Derek Kurisu, executive VP for KTA Superstores, smiles while watching the butchers work at the KTA Superstore at Pūʻainakō. Kurisu is proud of the relationships with the dozens of local purveyors, farmers, and growers that KTA has had, with some spanning generations. (Jamm Aquino/Civil Beat/2026)
Kulana Foods butchers process Parker Ranch beef at Kulana’s USDA slaughter facility in Hilo. KTA’s house brand Mountain Apple provides customers with a variety of local groceries, from meats and coffee to local milk and deli goods. (Jamm Aquino/Civil Beat/2026)

Sourcing Local, Getting The Price Right

As Kurisu sees it, prices matter. Adapting to a changing market matters.

But more than anything, the company’s success comes from building trust with customers over the decades. It is based on how KTA treats them and the experience they get shopping there. In other words, where Target is anonymous, KTA is personal.

Also essential: what products the stores stock and their focus on local sourcing. 

Its produce section is one example. 95% of KTA’s leafy vegetables are grown in the islands, as are its papayas, flowers and bananas. 

It also sells local fish and Hilo-made tofu. More than half of its beef comes from Hawaiʻi cattle farms.

It even carries milk from local dairy cows, a considerable feat since the 1982 heptachlor scandal — when the Department of Health found pesticides used on pineapple tops fed to dairy cows — almost wiped out production.

Another pillar is KTA’s links to and a sense of obligation to the Big Island’s economy. Some of its suppliers, Kurisu told me, have been working with the grocery company for four generations.

KTA also works closely with the Hilo community, especially when it comes to food security. Kurisu collaborates with Lew Nakamura, professor of agriculture at Hawaiʻi Community College, and has supported Nakamura’s programs that give students hands-on training in sustainable farming.

“It is really important for me to make sure that we can grow our own food locally,” Kurisu said.

Kurisu even plans to open a hydroponic farm within at least one of KTA’s stores, further bolstering the local food movement and the young people who will carry it forward. 

Hawaiʻi Community College agriculture students with agriculture professor Lew Nakamura sort through jicama seeds at UH Hilo’s agricultural and farm site in Hilo. (Jamm Aquino/Civil Beat/2026)

This is KTA’s formula, and it seems to be working. 

Can it be replicated elsewhere in Hawai‘i’s economy? Maybe, maybe not.

What matters in the long run is that this grocery chain is a bright spot of local resilience and a bulwark against the great homogenization of our country. So long as it exists, the monoculture hasn’t won.

Once, on a trip to Hilo, my Norwegian brother-in-law declared KTA to be his favorite grocery store in the world.

That’s high praise. In Scandinavia, it’s perfectly ordinary for stores to sell Atlantic salmon cured in dill, langoustines, wild mushrooms and even game. 

In Paris, where I live, supermarkets sell fine chardonnay, artisan butter and fresh oysters.

Yet like my brother-in-law, I prefer KTA.

Nowhere else have I encountered a grocery where so much local life unfolds. As you’re picking strawberry papayas, you hear people running into old friends, talking about kids and grandkids, cracking jokes with the braddahs behind the poke counter. While that might happen at say, the Whole Foods in Kāhala, many shoppers there seem to rush through the store, girding themselves for an eye-popping grocery bill at the end of the expedition. 

What makes any town special is its particularities, the weird and wonderful things its residents do and eat and say.

With the internet and mass travel, our world is far smaller and less distinctive. And life is a hell of a lot less interesting without those quirks.

We ought to celebrate those corners of the world that resist the trend, where something singular yet ordinary can still exist.

Portraits of KTA’s founders Koichi and Taniyo Taniguchi hang on the mantle above shoppers as Derek Kurisu walks the floor at the KTA Superstore at Pūʻainakō. (Jamm Aquino/Civil Beat/2026)

As Kurisu walks through the aisles, people often ask him when he’ll retire. He’s not planning on leaving anytime soon.

“I feel a sense of obligation because I’ve worked with so many employees,” he told me. Since KTA’s founding, more than 13,000 people have worked at the chain. 

“They sacrificed their lives. The Taniguchi family sacrificed their lives to make KTA what it is today.”

About the Author

  • Makana Eyre
    Makana Eyre is a journalist based in Paris. He has written for The New Republic, The New York Times Magazine, The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, The Nation, and Foreign Policy. He is the author of "Sing, Memory" (WW Norton, 2023), the true story of the effort to save culture created by prisoners in World War II Nazi prison camps. Eyre is a graduate of the Columbia Journalism School and teaches journalism and media history at Sciences Po in Paris. He was born and raised on the island of Oʻahu. You can reach him by email at columnists@civilbeat.org. Opinions are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Civil Beat’s views.

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