The Real Guide to Malasadas in Hawai‘i

By Christina Garcia

17 November 2025

Where fried dough becomes a love language

There are certain things you shouldn’t leave Hawai‘i without tasting, and malasadas sit right near the top of that list—right between a perfect beach sunset and that feeling when the warm trade winds finally loosen the knots in your shoulders.

Here’s the truth: if you show up on the islands with even half an appetite and a sense of adventure, malasadas will find you. And that’s a beautiful thing.

What Exactly Is a Malasada?

Picture a donut that finally decided to stop holding back. No hole. No modesty. Just a full, golden pillow of rich, eggy dough fried until the outside crackles ever so slightly before giving way to a soft interior that feels a little like someone whispered “treat yourself” into the batter.

Most locals will tell you the fillings are half the fun—custard, coconut, chocolate, lilikoi, guava, pineapple… every flavor tastes like someone bottled up the islands and hid them inside warm dough.

They’re originally a gift from Portuguese families who came to Hawai‘i in the late 1800s—people who knew how to turn every last bit of butter and sugar into joy before Lent rolled in. From there, malasadas set down roots the way all good comfort foods do: quietly, steadily, and in every neighborhood that needed a little sweetness.

Today? You’ll find them on every island, usually in places where the line forms before the neon “open” sign even flickers awake.

Why Tuesday Matters

Back in the day, malasadas were a Fat Tuesday tradition—one final hurrah before Lent. Hawai‘i embraced that spirit with open arms, but the real secret is this: you don’t need anything special on the calendar to indulge.

Any day can be “malasada day” if your heart says so.

Where to Find Them (AKA: The Good Stuff)

Every island has its legends—those small bakeries tucked between surf shops, family kitchens with recipes older than the state itself, and counters where the sugar settles on the floor because it’s been a long, delicious morning.

Whether you’re wandering Kaua‘i’s sleepy backroads or navigating O‘ahu’s buzz, the rule stays the same:
If you see a long line and the faint smell of frying dough drifting across the parking lot, get in line. Don’t overthink it.

Why You Should Absolutely Eat One

You’re not just biting into dessert—you’re tasting history, culture, and the kind of everyday magic that makes Hawai‘i Hawai‘i.

This isn’t something you’ll stumble across in most places on the mainland. Malasadas are a local language, a comfort, an invitation. They’re the kind of food that makes you stop, sigh, and wonder why on earth you haven’t been eating these your whole life.

So go ahead. Pick a flavor you’ve never tried before. Share a box with someone. Sugar on your shirt? That’s how you know you’re doing it right.

Top Malasada Spots on Each Island

Where the locals go, where the lines form, and where you bite into something that makes you close your eyes for a second.

Kaua‘i — The Garden Island’s Sugar-Dusted Secrets

Kaua‘i doesn’t shout. It whispers. And its malasadas follow suit — humble exteriors, unbelievable interiors.

• Holey Grail (Hanalei / Princeville food truck circuit)
Started as taro-based malasadas fried in coconut oil. Crunchy edges, soft centers, flavors that change with the tides — lilikoi, coconut, ube. It’s the farmer’s-market version of a malasada, and somehow it just fits the Kaua‘i vibe.

• Kaua‘i Bakery (Līhu‘e)
This is the airport-town sleeper pick. Locals swing in before work, travelers swing in before flights, and everyone walks out with sugar on their shirts. Their custard is quiet perfection.

• Passion Bakery Café (Wailua)
Fresh, warm, no-nonsense malasadas served next to the smell of real butter and actual baking happening in the back. Try the guava. Trust me.

O‘ahu — The Island That Made Malasadas Famous

O‘ahu has beaches, traffic, people from everywhere… and malasadas that have achieved near-myth status.

• Leonard’s Bakery (Kapahulu)
This is the pilgrimage. The neon sign glows like it’s been welcoming the sun for 70 years. The original, the icon, the one your auntie will insist you try. Hot off the fryer is the only way to do it. Don’t argue.

• Pipeline Bakeshop & Creamery (Kaimukī)
A local favorite known for fillings so silky they should come with a warning label. Their lilikoi is bright and unforgettable — like someone squeezed sunshine into a malasada.

• Kamehameha Bakery (Kalihi)
Home of the legendary taro malasadas. Purple dough, slightly denser bite, tastes like O‘ahu in pastry form — modern, bold, and always just a little unexpected.

Maui — Easygoing Island, Serious Pastry Energy

Maui’s malasada scene is like the island itself: easy to love, impossible to forget.

• T. Komoda Store & Bakery (Makawao)
An Upcountry institution. If you know, you know. Doors open early, lines form even earlier. Their cream-filled malasadas have a cult following, and after one bite, you’ll understand why.

• Sugar Beach Bake Shop (Kīhei)
Steps from the ocean. Come barefoot from your morning beach walk, grab a box, ruin your rental car seats with powdered sugar — not sorry.

• Home Maid Bakery (Wailuku)
They run a malasada hot line — yes, a literal phone line you call to see when the next batch comes out. That’s how serious they are.

Big Island — Deep Roots and Big Flavors

The Big Island doesn’t do small. Volcanoes, coastlines, and malasadas with personalities.

• Tex Drive In (Hāwī / Honoka‘a)
This is where road trippers pull over for malasadas the size of your palm. Filled, unfilled, classic, tropical — everything’s good. Eat it outside with a view of the ocean cliffs. That’s how it’s meant to be done.

• Punalu‘u Bake Shop (Between Volcano & South Point)
The southernmost bakery in the U.S. — but that’s not why the locals go. Their malasadas are soft, pillowy, and perfect after a morning exploring the lava fields. Try the lilikoi or guava; they taste like summer in pastry form.

• KTA Super Stores (various locations)
Yes, the grocery store. And yes, they’re surprisingly great. This is the local, everyday malasada — the one that ends up in school lunches and family beach coolers. Understated. Reliable. Delicious.

Final Bite

Every island does malasadas differently — just like every island does everything differently. But they all share the same heartbeat: warmth, sweetness, and that small moment when you forget whatever’s on your mind and just enjoy something simple and perfect.