Relax with kava on the Big Island

Fights don't break out at kava bars.

Unlike regular bars, where tempers can rise with the voices as the night wears on, the more people drink at a kava bar, the more hushed the place becomes. The later it gets, the greater the sense of peace and goodwill.

Kava the drink is made from the pulverized root of kava the plant, a relative of the pepper. It may taste like dirt, but you don't drink it to please the palate, which, in fact, it numbs. You drink it for the same reasons Polynesians have for thousands of years: It makes your worries seem manageable, your bones seem to settle into place, and your brain feel focused, friendly and clear. It's as if you've just done 90 minutes of intense vinyasa flow yoga, without the sweat-soaked laundry. And it relieves toothaches.

The Big Island is the unofficial kava capital of Hawaii. There are probably more kava bars per capita there than anywhere else. Here are the four biggies:

Kanaka Kava

This tiny, open-air kava watering hole sits smack in the boozy, touristy heart of Kailua-Kona, a counterintuitive spot for a mellow kava experience. But calm at the center of the storm is what native Hawaiian kava farmer Zack Gibson had in mind when he opened the place - that and creating a market for the certified organic kava he grows.

Gibson believes that Hawaii would be a lot better off if it drank less alcohol and more kava. "So we went right down to where the beer and partying is and created a peaceful place," he says.

Kava didn't taste any better in ancient Hawaiian times than it does now, which is why kava drinkers then usually had pupus on hand. Kanaka Kava serves traditional Hawaiian pupus such as sweet potato, poi, kalua pork and a hard-to-find, chewy shellfish called opii.

Kava Kafe

At the northern tip of the island in the one-street former plantation town of Hawi, this thoroughly laid-back kava hangout is the kind of place where young moms let diapered kids roam, and nobody has to leave the dog in the car.

On the frequent live music nights, it feels more like a house party than anything else. The crowd spills out onto the tiered decks, because there's just enough room inside for, say, a three-piece reggae band, a low-slung couch filled with local girls and a handful of dancers trying not to trip over the mutts and free-range toddlers.

The kava's gone vegan here, with wheat- and gluten-free kava brownies, and kava drinks concocted with coconut milk, honey, ginger, chocolate, cayenne and cinnamon.

Bayfront Coffee, Kava

and Tea

Looking across the highway and through the palms at Hilo Bay, this kava bar in Hilo's old downtown has the breezy appeal of a sidewalk cafe. It also pours the easiest-to-drink kava on the island, made from a blend of certified organic or no-spray varieties served cold.

The temperature makes a huge difference. A coconut shell cup of cold, fresh kava goes down far more smoothly than a shell of room-temperature dried kava, which is how it's typically served. Smoother still is the "alii style," prepared with fresh coconut water instead of tap water.

"The coconut water makes it taste better, and you get a more thorough extraction," says proprietor Dave Stevenson. "In other words, it's more potent."

Uncle's Awa Bar

Kava goes by its Hawaiian name, awa (pronounced with a "v"), at this outdoor bar in the front yard of Uncle Robert Keliihoomalu, in Kalapana, a centuries-old fishing settlement almost entirely destroyed by lava in 1990. The huge flow rose to the top of the rock wall at the edge of Uncle Robert's property, then changed direction and spared his home.

By day tourists tromp through his yard, inspecting a sculpture barn, a fading photo display of Kalapana's destruction and an exhibit laying out the legal case for the restoration of the overthrown Hawaiian monarchy. By night the awa drinkers turn out, sitting at a couple of picnic tables or around the horseshoe bar, sipping plastic cups of potent, powdered Hawaiian awa and conversing in hushed tones beneath the beneath the stars late into the evening.

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This article appeared on page M - 6 of the San Francisco Chronicle