Have an ahi moment with Tahiti’s national dish, poisson cru
It’s hard to let go of any vacation, let alone to the other side of the planet, to a blip of land in the middle of the Pacific roughly 2,000 miles from its nearest neighboring nation.
French Polynesia was a Bucket List line item for me. I was supposed to visit Tahiti and its neighboring islet of Moorea for my 50th birthday, which unfortunately fell in the Year of Our Pandemic 2020.
But this year, I made it.
Gumbo filé, the secret sassafras in this Creole classic
These islands, with their predictably perfect temps and astonishing early sunsets, have healing properties. Trails to waterfalls that meander past sacred stone marae, centuries old. Lush peaks devoid of light pollution, where one can lie on the grass and behold the diaphanous static of the Milky Way and all its vastness. Cool lagoons that come in every shade of blue. Warm, wonderful people.
These islands will transform a person. Gently. Naturally. With very little effort.
It’s not unlike the processes that create Tahiti’s national dish.
Despite its more prevalent French name, poisson cru (raw fish) is a singularly Tahitian dish, a simple, fresh mélange that Polynesians were enjoying long before any of the colonizers showed up. There are variants between the versions found in Tonga vs. Samoa vs. Tahiti (Names, too: ota ika in Tongan, for example, ia ota in Tahitian — both of which also translate to “raw fish”), but the foundation is solid: fish, citrus juice and coconut milk. The addition of fresh fruits and vegetables add in flavor layers and snappy texture. I found it on the menus of virtually every restaurant, food truck and snack shack I encountered.
The most common protein in poisson cru is tuna, though occasionally other types of seafood are employed. I know this because I tried it everywhere I went during my time in French Polynesia. No, I am not exaggerating. In fact, I planned it.
I first learned of this dish amid pre-travel research. It looked good. It sounded good. I knew I’d enjoy it. And while some plates outshined others, from my very first taste at La Casa Bianca, a casual marina-side pizzeria in Puna’auia on Tahiti-Nui, to the à la Chinoise version I grabbed off a roulotte in the sleepy world surf capital of Teahupo’o, I was hooked.
(Roulotte is French for “trailer,” by the way. There are legions of them here.)
The Chinese variation of the dish adds a few other flavors to the party — ginger, sugar, soy sauce and vinegar among them — and at this particular truck, it was featured among a roster of items I’d come to learn as island staples: grilled meat (here it was steak au poivre), chao men (stir-fried noodles) and frites.
Tahiti has been a French colony since 1880, but the nation’s missionaries arrived several decades earlier. Frites, not unlike poisson cru, are omnipresent. You can also get a good, fresh, crusty baguette at any corner store, at nearly any time of day, for about fifty cents. Car dashboards island-wide are littered with crumbs; you’ll see cyclists traveling with armpit-secured loaves, and most shoppers at the market carry long, skinny, reusable bags just for bread.
Ceviche: a bright, juicy bite for summertime
If you like ceviche, kinilaw or poke, you’ll probably like poisson cru. It is less acidic than the Latin and Filipino raw fish preps and just a little creamy. The dice on the fish varies (I lean toward larger, bite-sized hunks), but there’s no wrong way. I had versions where the tuna was cut into thin strips or diced tiny, perhaps a better option for those who enjoy literally eating all the things in one bite.
Tahitians make poisson cru at home. A lot. The fish on display at the Marché Papeete in Tahiti’s capital are, much like their tiny counterparts on the reefs, a kaleidoscope — only on ice. So, too, are the wares of local fishermen on Moorea, who hang their bright-eyed catch on roadside racks where folks roll up to snatch specimens that were swimming perhaps just an hour or two earlier. You can also get it, grab-and-go-style, everywhere from the supermarché to the gas station minimart. Yes, I sampled here, too. Travel is an adventure. For the stomach as much as anything else.
After nearly 14 consecutive days, you’d think I’d have been ready to let it go. But no. I needed one more fix. To the fish market I went, where a vibrant pink slab of ahi awaited transformation — it seems that making the dish at home completed mine.
Want to reach out? Find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. Email: amthompson@orlandosentinel.com. For more fun, join the Let’s Eat, Orlando Facebook group or follow @fun.things.orlando on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter.
Poisson Cru
Poisson cru is naturally low-carb and gluten-free. This recipe is something of an amalgam of several I found online. They are all more or less the same, with some versions including green onion or bell pepper and others calling for lemon juice instead of lime. Try what speaks to you. Cut and slice your tuna and vegetables as you prefer — make it your own.
Ingredients
1 pound sushi-grade ahi, cubed
1 tomato, diced
1/2 red onion, finely diced
1/2 cucumber, diced
3/4 cup coconut milk
Juice of 2 limes
Salt & pepper
Instructions
Combine onion, tomato and cucumber in one bowl.
In another, toss tuna and lime juice. Marinate about 5 minutes.
Add tuna/juice to diced mixture. Gently combine.
Pour in coconut milk, toss, season with salt and pepper to taste.
Enjoy as is atop a banana leaf or serve with rice (perhaps a coconut version). Other possible sides include boiled sweet potato or taro. Plenty of local cafes offer frites as an option, as well. Refrigerate any leftovers.
Want to reach out? Find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. Email: amthompson@orlandosentinel.com. For more fun, join the Let’s Eat, Orlando Facebook group or follow @fun.things.orlando on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter.
