Post #332375 by Registered Astronaut on Thu, Sep 13, 2007 7:26 PM

I have often wondered, if I had the money to open my own bar/restaurant, would I attempt to build a comprehensive Tiki monument, a proud homage to a heyday long since past? While merely a fantasy, it’s certainly fun to think about. I go through list of staples in my head, dreaming of all the details that would impress even the most astute design conservative. Towering hand-carved Rarotonga Tikis. Lava waterfalls crashing into sparkling pools streaming off under walkways and seating areas. Perhaps an aviary chirping with exotic birds, greeting newly-arrived guests. A simulated rainfall every twenty minutes, complimented by thundering drums of the pacific, like the Tonga room but more realistic. A starry sky twinkling above a rich green panorama. Colorful landscaping lights shining on garden tikis and palm trees casting long shadows on a booming A-frame sagging in thatch.
I think about wood grains, yes or no on nautical paintings in the restrooms, exotic curios in glass cases and how many drinks exactly should be served in signature mugs. I think about the expense of hiring a greens staff to maintain the plants inside and outside, which like the Mai Kai, would be an enterprise in itself. I consider the higher end touches that would translate to a more expensive and therefore more exclusive experience. Linens in the bathroom and valet parking make for a classier touch, but they also limit the clientele. The least fun comes when I remember there’s food to be served, and the fact that most diners would be attracted to the place on the merits its cuisine. Thai is more contemporary than Chinese, but neither are native foods. As we all know, the native Polynesians had a myriad of cuisine depending on the island, but modern tastes aren’t really that impressed by breadfruit and roast “Puarkee,” nor are they into eating raw fish without soy sauce and wasabi.
Then reality hits when I remember my vegetarian ideals would be compromised by owning a place that would serve steak, pig, poultry and fish, and it’s all over from there. But…I sometimes wonder, in a place like Los Angeles, how a new place, a really thorough, well-intentioned place would go over. Food critics seem to love and hate L.A. for its devotion to design, which they believe is considered sometimes more than the actual menu (see above). However, being the second largest city in the country and the gateway to the Pacific, we do have great restaurants and a willing mass of adventurous diners. With B.H. Trader Vic’s now closed, the true Tiki experience in missing from the southland. Yes, Including San Diego. I really like Bali-Hai, it’s in my top-five, maybe my top three, but it’s just not dark or lush enough for me, nor has it recovered from its 80’s devolution entirely.
As the debate continues about the new painted tikis in the Mai-Kai gardens, and in relation to my aforementioned daydreaming, it seems as if “TikiPhiles” (I hate the word) are straddling the line between discovery, research/ preservation and plain blind devotion to something that survived without their help for many years. As Sven pointed out in his book long ago, Tiki was ever re-invented. From fine dining to tacky strip clubs, the South Seas experience evolved from a little bar in Hollywood to an astounding pop culture phenomenon that thrived for decades.
Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with preservation, but sometimes I feel like this small community is afraid of change. Change sucks sometimes, but it’s a constant, and fighting it will only tire the fighter. If our grandparents never built a tacky, tiki bowling alley complete with painted clown tikis and garish green carpet, how would we have found that last remaining parking lot tiki as a kid and wondered “what the hell is that and where did it come from?”
Yes, I slammed Trader Vic’s when they closed their Beverly Hills doors. In one sense I was pissed because I felt like the company had given up, in another way I was happy because it had decayed into an unpleasant, rip-off experience. Tiki is a dying breed, all but to be bought up or re-packaged. Rather than fight or complain about it, we can take our fantasies, (I know I’m no the only one) put our money where our mouth is (anybody a millionaire entrepreneur?) and build places even better than imagined. Americans are ready to be transported again, and they’re certainly ready to indulge in a unique experience that isn’t located in a strip mall. Just from talking to my Bay Area family, Forbidden Island is all the rage in Alameda, and this coming from people who have no allegiance to our little hobby.
One last thing, I’ll build a Tiki Bar someday if I have the means, but before that, I’m going to do something never before seen in drinking and dining. That’s how fun things like Tiki start to begin with.