What you need to know about shave ice

A couple of people wrote me to let me know there was a typo in Tuesday’s blog. “You’re supposed to be a writer,” one of them wittily noted. “You should know the difference between shave ice and shaved ice.”

Actually, I do. In Hawaii, it’s never called “shaved” ice and if you pronounce it that way on Kaua`i, Auntie and her friends will roll their eyes or worse.

That said, let me explain this island concoction which is to Hawaii what beignets are to Louisiana. This is an island treat, the only thing in the world that will truly satisfy you after a really hot day at the beach.

It is made by delicately scraping a solid block of ice with a blade (thus, the best shave ice is made with the sharpest blades) until you get a billowy mound that resembles fresh powder snow more than it does a snow cone. Then it’s doused in flavored syrup—preferably fruity and tropical, like lilikoi (passion fruit) or papaya or pineapple—and carefully domed (if done properly) on top of a scoop of rich ice cream to give it richness and added texture.

Some people, including Auntie, substitute a mash of sweet adzuki beans for the ice cream, but I think this is an apostasy. Even more heretical are those who would add sweetened condensed milk. They should be shunned. The thing to remember when ordering a shave ice is that it takes a lo-o-o-o-o-ng time to make. Because they have to, you know, shave that ice. So don’t be impatient. Because if you are, the wrinkled old ladies who spend their afternoons making one after the other at the Wishing Well truck near the pier in Hanalei will do more than just give you the stink eye; they’ll teach you Hawaiian words even Auntie doesn’t know (or so she swears).

By the way, my favorite Wishing Well shave ice is Lehua’s Delight—lemon and preserved island plum, called lihi mui, on top of macadamia nut ice cream. It brok’ da mouf.