Zombie Jamboree
At these SoCal Tiki bars, the Rum Godswill help ease your troubles colorfully
By Dan Epstein
There's nothing like a well-mixed tropical drink to put it all into perspective. Whether it's served in head-shaped mug, a volcano-shaped bowl, or just your standard cocktail glass, a deft concoction of hard liquors and fruit juices can make you feel like you've just been served a liquid ray of cosmic sunshine. If something's hanging heavy in your mind, the Rum Gods will gladly lighten your load for a couple of hours. Car's in the shop again? Being audited by the IRS? Country being flushed down the crapper by greedy oilmen? Another Blue Hawaiian, barkeep.
Sadly, there just aren't that many places left in Los Angeles where you can still get a good Zombie, Mai Tai, or Scorpion Bowl (flaming or otherwise), and even fewer where you can enjoy them in the proper context of a glorious bamboo-and-blowfish setting. Time was, you couldn't drive 10 minutes in any direction without passing a faux-Polynesian watering hole like Kelbo's or Don the Beachcomber's; but, ever since their late-'50s/early-'60s heyday, Tiki bars have been slowly dying out across the Southland. (For an in-depth, eye-popping look at the history of Tiki bars in California and elsewhere, Sven Kirsten's The Book of Tiki is an essential read.)
But for the intrepid (and thirsty) Tiki aficionado, there are still a handful of paradise palaces to explore. Damon's (317 N. Brand Blvd., Glendale, 818-507-1510) is a steakhouse that's worth checking out for its impressive South Seas-style interior. But since the tropical drinks are mediocre at best, and the steaks aren't going to make anyone forget Ruth's Chris, you probably won't be paddling your outrigger there more than once.
Located in a nondescript minimall (is there any other kind?), The Lava Lounge (1533 N. La Brea Ave., Hollywood, 323-876-6612) was a welcome addition to the local Tiki scene when it opened in the early '90s. Its bamboo-meets-bordello interior has aged rather nicely (though the red leather barstools haven't), but the bar's emphasis on live entertainment makes it less than ideal if you're looking to quietly unwind with a rum-based beverage. And, while the friendly bartenders will gamely try to fulfill your tropical-drink requests, beer is really the libation of the realm.
For a considerably more gratifying minimall Tiki experience, it's worth taking the long voyage out to The Lucky Tiki (15420 Chatsworth St., Mission Hills, 818-892-2688). From the thatch-covered walls to the carved Tiki-god barstools, it's obvious that a lot of love and care went into designing this cozy little establishment, which opened just over a year ago. Happily, that love (and a considerable amount of booze) extends to the drinks, as well. Asked for a recommendation on house specialties, the bartender replied, "How fucked up do you want to get?" If your answer is "Very!," the excellent South Zombie or the tart and tasty Chief Lapu-Lapu are highly recommended, as are more traditional rum wonders like the Blue Hawaiian or Planter's Punch. Throw in a little music by Martin Denny or Arthur Lyman, and you'd be wallowing in full-on Tiki bliss; unfortunately, the last time I was there, the whole bar was watching Cops reruns with the sound cranked up. Somewhere, the great god Ku frowned menacingly ...
I can't remember if they play background music at the legendary Tiki Ti (4427 W. Sunset Blvd., L.A., 323-669-9381), but maybe that's because I usually can't remember much after stumbling out of there. What I do remember is that it's somehow managed to cram a museum's worth of Tiki and beach-bum paraphernalia into a space the size of your average pool cabana. As well as several tables and a functioning bar, opened in the early '60s by the late, great Ray Buhen - who'd previously honed his mixing chops at such classic grog mills as Don the Beachcomber's, The Luau, and Trader Vic's - the Tiki Ti features dozens of colorfully named rum and vodka cocktails on its menu, including the Sumatra Kula and the Blood & Sand. Many of the recipes come from the original Don the Beachcomber's drink book, though just as many are Buhen's originals. (On many evenings, the inscrutably smiling Ray would refuse to serve me anything except a "Ray's Mistake.") He passed on to the great luau in the sky in 2001, but his son and grandson keep the blowfish lamps lit and the drinks flowin' in a masterful (and thoroughly lethal) manner, and the tiny shack remains as reliably packed as ever.
If you're in the mood for a place with a little more elbow room - as well as flaming drinks - the cavernous Bahooka (4501 N. Rosemead Blvd., Rosemead, 626-285-1241) is an excellent destination. I'm not saying this place is labyrinthine, but I swear I ran into an Aloha-shirted Minotaur while looking for the men's room. (Thank you, folks, I'll be here all week!) Imagine a cross between an American Legion dining hall and Captain Nemo's opium-induced fever dreams, and you'll have some idea of what this 10,000-square-foot restaurant looks like. Better yet, just go there, find a dark and quiet corner amid the many fish tanks, and suck down a couple of flaming Honey Bowls with your honey. The food is a definite throwback to the fried 'n' flavorless cuisine that dominated American restaurants in the Eisenhower era; but, with more than 60 tropical drinks on the menu, you're gonna need something to soak up the sauce.
The last of the old Tiki chains that's still in business, Trader Vic's boasts outposts from Bangkok to Berlin. Unfortunately, recent branch closings in Houston and Chicago serve as a reminder that even world-famous watering holes are no match for the sands of time. The Beverly Hills Trader Vic's (9876 Wilshire Blvd., Beverly Hills, 310-276-6345) has been on the bottom floor of the Beverly Hilton Hotel for 50 years now, but that's no reason to take it for granted. Besides, when it comes to expertly trained bartenders serving up classic Tiki drinks like the Suffering Bastard or the Doctor Funk of Tahiti, the place has no peer in Southern California. Sure, many of the old South Pacific artifacts that studded the interior are now gone; sure, the place can get godawfully crowded with Hollywood wannabes on the weekends; sure, you practically have to take out a bank loan to order anything off the food menu. But show up between 5 p.m. and 7 p.m. on a quiet weeknight, grab a seat at the bar, and order a Tiki Puka-Puka. The bartender will give you a knowing nod and place a goblet of delicious nectar in front of you. After a few sips, you'll feel your worries beginning to ebb away, like the tide on a moonlit stretch of Tahitian beachfront. And you'll know, deep inside your soul, that the great god Ku is smiling.Published: 12/08/2005
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