Think of Hawaiian food and what comes to mind? Poke? Loco moco? The food you eat at a luau? Pizza with pineapple and ham? I can tell you what it’s not: It’s definitely not pizza with pineapple.

In Hawaii, there’s Hawaiian food, usually referring to native Hawaiian fare, and there’s local food. But sometimes the distinctions blur, and delving into Hawaii’s unique specialties—which is more than just poke and loco moco—reveals a complex picture of Hawaii’s culinary history. There are actually very few native Hawaiian foods; the islanders’ diet before Western contact generally consisted of a lot of poi (old pictures of Hawaiian meals often show poi bowls big enough to wash a baby in), sweet potato, breadfruit, some fish, limu (seaweed), and fruit. The kalua pig (a whole roast pig cooked in an imu, or underground oven) you see at luaus was reserved for special occasions.

Then came the explorers from Europe, the missionaries from America, the plantation workers from China, Japan, Korea, the Philippines, and Portugal, resulting in “local food,” a mishmash of cultures that changed the scope of Hawaii's culinary purview. It explains how we now have a hamburger patty on top of rice and covered in gravy, or raw fish chopped with onions and seasoned with soy sauce and sesame oil. This cross-pollination was so prevalent that even what we on the islands now call “Hawaiian” food isn’t native Hawaiian—you’ll find lomi salmon at the luau, made with all post-contact ingredients. It’s all mixed up, and that’s how we like it.

In The Food in Paradise, food historian Rachel Laudan gives us perspective on this cultural blending: “In some parts of the world it seems appropriate to look back nostalgically to the past, to an authentic food based on local ingredients, but such a search for past authenticity is moot in Hawaii. My encounters with Hawaii’s food are just one recent echo of the encounters of a long succession of immigrants who have labored to create foods in these distant Islands, to turn a wilderness into a Paradise.”

So maybe, just maybe, a century or two from now, we’ll be embracing that “Hawaiian” pizza as local food. Maybe. For now, here are six foods that peel back the layers of Hawaii's rich culinary legacy.

Ethnic DNA: Chinese, Japanese, American

What it is: Wavy Chinese-style noodles, slightly softer than ramen, in a Japanese-style broth made with kombu (seaweed) and dried shrimp and/or bonito (dried, shaved skipjack). The toppings are often a medley including Spam, kamaboko (fishcake), and green onions. Soy sauce and Coleman’s mustard are usually served on the side as condiments.

Backstory: “Like all hot noodle soups, saimin must also be Chinese in origin,” says Arnold Hiura, author of Kau Kau: Cuisine and Culture in the Hawaiian Islands. “Min” is a derivation of “mein,” or “noodle” in Chinese. “However, it was likely adapted by Hawaii’s large Japanese population, which comprised up to 40 percent of the total population at one time during the heyday of Hawaii’s sugar and pineapple plantation economy,” he says. The Spam is courtesy of American GIs stationed in Hawaii during WWII.

Where to get it: Check out the old-school saimin spots (Palace Saimin in Kalihi, Shige’s Saimin Stand in Wahiawa), which offer on their short menu the all-American hamburger or a skewer of teriyaki beef. “Now what does that say about our ethnic, cultural identity, huh?” says Hiura.

Ethnic DNA: Portuguese

What it is: Soft, fluffy, slightly sweet bread

Backstory: In the late 19th century, Hawaii’s sugar plantations began recruiting Portuguese laborers from the Madeira and Azores islands, which had a similar climate to Hawaii and a long history with sugar. Of the recipes they brought with them, the most popular today are pao doce and malasadas. “Many old-timers wax nostalgic about the smell of bread baking wafting through the plantation camps on days that the Portuguese fired up their famed stone ovens,” says Hiura.

Where to get it: These days, you’ll find sweet bread on the shelves of all grocery stores and served in French toast form at breakfast and brunch spots. But you can also get it warm from a traditional-styled stone oven, manned by the Kona Historical Society in Kealakekua on the Big Island.

Ethnic DNA: Chinese

What it is: Think of cake noodle as the precursor to the ramen burger bun. Saimin noodles are packed into a skillet and cooked so the outside is crispy, the inside still soft, and then sliced into squares, just like a cake. It’s usually topped with a Chinese stir fry with lots of “gravy,” like a saucy beef and broccoli or oyster sauce chicken. 

Backstory: “Many restaurants (in Hawaii) claim to have invented cake noodle,” says Lynette Lo Tom, who wrote Hawaii Cooks: A Chinese Kitchen. “But no one knows for sure. Those restaurants are now gone.” Locals who leave Hawaii and try to order “cake noodle” in Chinese restaurants are given funny looks. Though pan-fried noodles exist in Chinese cuisine, they’re often made with thinner noodles, less densely packed, and cooked until crispy throughout.

Where to get it: Almost any Chinese restaurant in Hawaii, but Little Village is one of the standouts. 

Ethnic DNA: Portuguese

What it is: Eggy, yeast-leavened fried dough

Backstory: Malasadas were originally a Shrove Tuesday, pre-Lenten treat made to use up all the butter and lard in the house. No longer a once-a-year treat, malasadas are eaten year-round, brought by the dozens to potlucks and office parties. They’re now more popular in Hawaii than in their country of origin, Portugal.

Where to get it: Two places are legendary for their malasadas. One is Punahou Carnival, the annual fundraiser for Hawaii’s most famous and prestigious private school (and President Obama’s alma mater), which sells almost 200,000 malasadas over two days. And of course, there’s Leonard’s Bakery, which opened in 1952, and whose name is synonymous with malasadas. While in Madeira, malasadas are often served drizzled with molasses (a byproduct of all the sugar production), at Leonard’s, the popular varieties are dusted with cinnamon sugar or li hing, a pink, puckery plum powder with Chinese origins, and a favorite of locals.

Ethnic DNA: Chinese

What it is: The classic manapua in Hawaii is a slight variation on the char siu bao, filled with sweetened, shredded roast pork (and usually unnaturally red in color). 

Backstory: Manapua in Hawaii came from the Chinese bao, a fluffy steamed bun stuffed with meat. There’s a “deep affection [for] the ‘manapua man,’ who used to walk through neighborhoods with two large tins of buns hanging from a pole slung over his shoulders, calling out, ‘Manapua! Pepeiau!’” says Hiura. 

Where to get it: 7-Elevens in Hawaii stock manapua in glass steam boxes, meaning you can get a warm manapua anytime of day, but Char Hung Sut in Chinatown is the legendary spot for manapua. This no-frills, takeout only joint, with a logo of steaming manapua, was founded in 1945 and is still run by the same family. Locals often leave with manapua arranged neatly in white cardboard boxes, like precious pastries. 

Ethnic DNA: Korean

What it is: Thin slices of beef marinated in soy, sesame, and garlic, dipped in flour and egg, fried golden brown.

Backstory: “If you peruse Korean cookbooks published outside of Hawaii, beef jun, if included in the repertoire of fried foods, is prepared as small pieces of beef...it is not beef that is marinated—something that gives the Hawaii version a definite tasty edge,” says Joan Namkoong, author of A Korean Kitchen: Traditional Recipes with an Island Twist. “I’m not sure how the Hawaii version came about, but it is certainly one of those things that evolved as immigrants used the ingredients they had available along with the food memories they brought with them.”

Where to get it: Every local-style Korean restaurant in Hawaii serves meat jun, as a pupu (shared appetizer) or entrée, or we’ll eat it in a Korean-style plate lunch, with sliced meat jun, and maybe kalbi, mandoo (dumplings), kimchee, and two scoops of rice. Gina’s B-B-Q (as in Korean barbecue, not the Southern kind), is a quintessential local-Korean plate lunch place with excellent meat jun and heaping portions.