Curls of woodsmoke drifted upwards from the beach as the sun barely peeked above the eastern horizon. It was one of those days when the aroma of barbecue pork arouses the senses and we had to catch a glimpse of its origination. Sitting on the edge of the Marriott Beach Resort, not far from the sand, was an imu pit that looked to be about three-feet deep and five feet long. It was obvious dinner was slow-cooking in the underground oven, producing an island favorite: Kalua Pork. Although we had heard about this technique, it was pretty exciting to see it evolve before our eyes.
Upon closer scrutiny, a sign was visibly posted at the cordoned off area which read “Private Function”. Just beyond, heat waves shimmered against a baby blue sky. There must have been at least a 200-pound sow covered in a heavy plastic tarp. The edges were buried in dirt. Apparently steam had raised the plastic into a taut dome. The aroma of salty meat infused with smoke struck me in the face on its way across the bay. It smelled delicious! Meanwhile, workers busied themselves moving about filling tiki torches, setting up tables, and stringing white lights. Tonight was the night for a traditional Hawaiian Luau.
Later on, outside the open doors to the lanai, the atmosphere of romance was infectious. The sound of the conch shell and the beating of the drums below was hypnotic. From our bird’s-eye view, hula dancers swaying to the music brought the evening to a thrilling conclusion. Aloha!
snapshotsincursive 