Laplap

Vanuatu baked root vegetable and banana pudding

Origin: Vanuatu / Papua New Guinea

From the journey of Banana.

Laplap is the national dish of Vanuatu and one of the oldest prepared foods in the Pacific Islands, a direct, unbroken culinary thread reaching back to the earliest Melanesian settlements over 3,000 years ago. It is made by grating raw root vegetables (most commonly taro, yam, or manioc/cassava) into a thick paste, then wrapping them in banana leaves with coconut cream and sometimes meat or fish, and slow-baking the parcels over hot stones in an earth oven (umu). The banana leaf is both the cooking vessel and the flavour agent: as it chars and steams, it imparts a faintly earthy, herbaceous note to the dense, starchy interior. Banana itself is often included as a filling, ripe or unripe, adding sweetness and texture. Laplap is central to ceremonial life throughout Vanuatu, prepared for weddings, funerals, kastom (customary) festivals, and the arrival of important guests. Its preparation is communal and time-intensive, making it a marker of collective effort and cultural continuity. In a country of over 100 languages, laplap transcends linguistic difference, it is the one dish that unites all 83 islands of the archipelago.

Ingredients

Base

  • 800 g taro (or yam, or cassava/manioc), peeled and grated to a coarse paste

Filling

  • 2 ripe bananas, sliced into rounds

Liquid

  • 400 ml coconut cream (1 tin)

Seasoning

  • 1 tsp fine salt

Wrapping

  • 6 large banana leaves (or use aluminium foil if unavailable), for wrapping

Protein (optional)

  • 200 g cooked chicken or fish, flaked (optional)

Method

  1. Peel and grate the taro (or yam/cassava) on the coarse side of a box grater into a large bowl. The result should be a fibrous, starchy paste. Season with salt and mix in half the coconut cream until the paste comes together into a thick, spreadable consistency.
  2. If using banana leaves, briefly pass each leaf over an open flame or dip in boiling water for 5 seconds to make them pliable. Dry with a cloth. Lay one large leaf (or a double layer of foil) on a work surface.
  3. Spread a layer of the grated taro paste (~2cm thick) over the centre of the leaf. Arrange a few banana slices and, if using, flaked chicken or fish in the centre. Top with another layer of taro paste to enclose the filling. Drizzle over the remaining coconut cream.
  4. Fold the banana leaf over the filling and tie securely with strips of leaf or kitchen twine. Repeat for remaining parcels.
  5. Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F. Place the parcels in a roasting tin and add a small splash of water to the base. Bake for 90 minutes, turning halfway through, until the taro is completely tender and cooked through.
  6. Remove from the oven and allow the parcels to rest for 10 minutes before unwrapping. The laplap should be a firm, moist slab: slice or scoop to serve.

Notes

Laplap is traditionally made in an earth oven (umu) with heated volcanic stones, producing a subtly smoky result. The oven version is a faithful approximation for home cooks. The dish keeps well and is often eaten cold the next day, where the texture firms up further. Taro is the most traditional root; cassava produces a slightly stickier, denser result. The banana filling is most prominent when using ripe, sweet bananas.

The Gastrographer

The Gastrographer

Mapping Culinary History

To explore — select an ingredient below.

Journey Point Map Key

Ingredient originTrade or transit route
Became a culinary stapleColonial / trade control
c. 1970s
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14 of 14 stops
1970 CE
7000 BCE1000 BCE1500s1970s
Banana

Banana

Musa spp.

FruitsBerries

🌍Origin

Papua New Guinea — c. 5000 BCE

🌱Domestication

The banana has one of the longest, strangest, and most tangled domestication histories of any crop, and the plant itself is a botanical paradox. It is not a tree but a giant herb, the tallest in the world, its apparent trunk a tightly furled pseudostem of leaf-sheaths rising from an underground corm, and the fruit we eat is, in strict botanical terms, a berry. Above all, the cultivated banana is sterile: it sets no viable seed and cannot reproduce by itself, propagating only through the offshoots, or suckers, that spring from the corm, so that every Cavendish on earth is in effect a single clone, kept alive and multiplied by human hands for thousands of years. A wild banana, by contrast, is a hard, dry pod packed with stony black seeds and scarcely worth eating; the soft, seedless, sweet fruit is wholly an artefact of cultivation. The wild ancestors are two species of the genus Musa: Musa acuminata, which contributes sweetness, and Musa balbisiana, which contributes hardiness and starch. Both were gathered across tropical Southeast Asia from deep antiquity, but the decisive centre of domestication was the island of New Guinea, where phytolith evidence from the Kuk Swamp in the western highlands records the deliberate cultivation and management of bananas as early as 8000 BCE, among the very oldest agriculture anywhere on earth. The Papuan cultivators selected over countless generations for fruit with fewer seeds, larger flesh, and a starchier or sweeter texture, producing the seedless parthenocarpic plants that are the parents of the modern crop. A second, crucial event followed in the Malay Archipelago and the Philippines, where M. acuminata and M. balbisiana hybridised, their genomes combining into the diploid and triploid forms (designated by botanists with letter codes such as AAA, AAB, and ABB) that underlie virtually every banana and plantain grown today. From these origins flowed two great and distinct agricultural traditions. The starchy cooking banana, the plantain, became a primary carbohydrate staple across equatorial Africa, the Caribbean, and tropical Latin America, boiled, roasted, fried, and pounded much as a potato or a yam. The soft, sugary dessert banana followed a separate path into a global industrial commodity. The variety that dominates that trade, the Cavendish, accounting for close to half of all bananas grown worldwide and nearly all of those exported, was selected and propagated in the nineteenth century, and rose to supremacy only in the mid-twentieth as a desperate replacement for the previously dominant Gros Michel, which the soil fungus known as Panama Disease had driven to commercial extinction, a foreshadowing of the very threat that now stalks the Cavendish in its turn.

Global Voyage

The banana's dispersal across the world began not with European ships but with the great maritime cultures of the Indo-Pacific, thousands of years before Columbus. Because the cultivated plant is seedless and travels only as a living sucker or corm, every stage of its spread required a human being to carry a piece of the plant itself, and the Austronesian seafarers who fanned out across the Pacific and the Indian Ocean did exactly that. By the first millennium CE, and on some evidence considerably earlier, Austronesian voyagers had carried cultivated bananas westward all the way to Madagascar and the East African coast, an extraordinary feat of ocean transplantation; from there Arab and Indian Ocean merchants distributed both sweet and cooking varieties along the Swahili coast and inland, where the fruit was taken up so eagerly by the Bantu-speaking peoples of the Great Lakes that the highland banana became the staple of an entire civilisation. In the other direction the banana was long established in India, known to Sanskrit literature as kadali well before the classical period; when Alexander the Great campaigned on the Indus in 327 BCE his companions recorded the fruit, and Theophrastus set down a description of it as the food of the sages who sat in its shade. The Arabic-speaking world received it through the Indian Ocean trade and gave it the name mauz, and it was along the West African Atlantic coast that Portuguese and Spanish traders of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries first met the fruit and the word that would become 'banana'. The Portuguese were the first Europeans to move the plant across the Atlantic world, carrying banana rhizomes from West Africa to the Canary Islands in the fifteenth century and on to Hispaniola by 1516, whence the plantain spread with remarkable speed through the Caribbean and tropical America, embraced at once by the enslaved Africans who recognised a food of their homeland. For three more centuries the banana remained a local and perishable fruit, unknown to the temperate world. Its transformation into the first mass-market exotic of the industrial age came only in the late nineteenth century, when entrepreneurs such as those who built the United Fruit Company married the railway, the steamship, and refrigerated transport to move a fruit that ripens and rots within days from equatorial plantations to the grocery shelves of North America and Europe at a scale and price never before possible. Within a couple of decades the banana had become cheaper than the apple, but the cost was borne elsewhere: the plantation economies that supplied it, backed by the political and at times military power of the fruit companies, came to dominate and distort the governments of Central America for the better part of a century.

🍽Modern Culinary Role

The banana today occupies two entirely distinct roles in the world's food culture, so different that they are rarely acknowledged together. As a dessert banana, the Cavendish and its relatives are the most exported fruit on the planet and, in Britain, the single best-selling item of fresh produce by volume, a fruit so cheap, so portable in its own biodegradable wrapper, and so reliably available year-round that it has become the very type of the everyday. As a cooking banana, the plantain is a primary carbohydrate staple for well over a hundred million people across sub-Saharan Africa, the Caribbean, and tropical Latin America, where it is roasted, fried, boiled, mashed, and fermented in ways that bear no relation whatever to the soft sweet fruit eaten raw from the skin; the green plantain is treated as a vegetable, a potato of the tropics, and to confuse the two is to misunderstand both. Uganda, where the steamed and mashed matoke is the national dish, has the highest per-capita banana consumption on earth. Beyond the fruit itself, almost every part of the plant is put to use. The broad banana leaf is a cooking wrapper and a serving plate across South and Southeast Asia, imparting its own faint fragrance to the food steamed within it; the banana blossom, the great purple flower-bud, is shredded and eaten as a vegetable from Kerala to Vietnam; the pith of the trunk is cooked in parts of India, and the fibrous peel, long thrown away in Western kitchens, has found a second life as a pulled-pork substitute in plant-based cooking. Yet the modern banana is also among the most ecologically precarious of all major crops, and for the same reason that made it so commercially convenient: its uniformity. Because the export trade rests almost entirely on a single clone, the Cavendish, the world's plantations share one genome and one set of vulnerabilities, and a virulent new strain of the old enemy, the soil fungus Tropical Race 4 of Panama Disease, is spreading through banana-growing regions across Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and into Latin America, against which the Cavendish has no defence. The fruit that conquered the world by being everywhere the same may yet be undone by it.

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