In the time between calling Maui home, I felt a nostalgia for the food. Of course I missed my friends and the slow and easy pace of life, but I often dreamt about the fruit: the tart lilikoi (passion fruit) that grows abundantly in the summer months, the juicy mango that stains the corners of my mouth, the fresh coconuts and fatty avocados that we clamor for at the farmer’s market. My friend Ashley and I hosted a potluck with friends at her former home in the jungles of Haiku to celebrate the foods that are iconic to the islands. We gathered around a wooden farm table on the front lawn. It was that perfect hour of hazy sunlight on Maui that signals the end of day. We had some mismatched chairs, koa wood bowls, an ukulele, grapefruit pretty enough to act as centerpiece and tropical protea blooms. We dined al fresco, as we often do. Most of us were barefoot in the grass. We were old friends and new friends, locals and transplants, joining over food and drink. There is a saying in the islands that often comes to mind when I dine on the fresh offerings, lucky we live Maui.