Tiki culture column - General Tiki

W woofmutt Member Seattilite Telstar Joined: Mar 26, 2002 Posts: 2639	W woofmutt Posted posted on Thu, Jun 3, 2010 5:32 AM A thatched roof doesn't make a tiki bar BY CHRIS KRIDLER • FLORIDA TODAY • June 3, 2010 Since I've become enamored of tiki culture, I've learned that it takes more than a thatched roof to be called tiki. Not that you can tell from the so-called "tiki bars" that keep popping up around Brevard County. Tiki is a celebration and continuation of the mid-century pop-culture craze that brought people out to Polynesian-themed restaurants and bars decorated with elaborate carvings and funky lamps. The decor evoked exotic getaways. The fantastically elaborate drink menus at places like Trader Vic's, Don the Beachcomber and Fort Lauderdale's Mai Kai would sink the heartiest sailor. More to the point, the cocktails were of high quality and complexity, employing myriad rums and fruit juices to great effect. Cocoa Beach used to have one of these establishments, back in the space-race days -- the Samoa, which served such drinks as the Samoa Sleeper, the Scorpion and, of course, the Mai-Tai, before my time. And times have changed. I just get depressed when I go to the local "tiki bar" and end up with another crappy drink made of a frozen mix. A certain new "tiki bar" I visited recently served only pedestrian beer and wine. Needless to say, my hopes were not high when I signed up to attend the luau at the Crowne Plaza in Indialantic. On many levels, I was pleasantly surprised. The buffet was good, with a real roast pig, looking appropriately morose under the orange lights. The show was a hoot, too, as a band played Pacific-influenced pop (though the "Margaritaville" cover would have made tiki purists cringe) and then provided a backdrop for dancers performing a cultural tour of the islands. The fire dancer was the most spectacular performer, though he looked as if he were getting more roasted than the pig. Based on the show and the food, I'd recommend the luau, which returns July 3. But the drinks stink. My husband asked a bartender if there was anything in the way of fresh fruit juice behind the bar -- anything -- and got an emphatic "no." So we were stuck with the sugar-headache daiquiri, or any number of the sort of cocktails one expects from a touristy hotel bar, like the limeless margarita. At least the deck where we ate is right on the beach, a lovely setting for the vaguely silly luau. And Ed Volonnino of Ed's Heads added an artistic touch to the proceedings with his colorful carvings. I'm looking forward to the day when a tiki bar opens on the Space Coast that actually serves the classic tiki drinks that people loved in the past. I think customers would be beating down the door to order them. If you mix it, they will come. (Want to mix them at home? Check out Jeff Berry's "Beachbum Berry Remixed.") In the meantime, I'm anticipating a visit to the Mai Kai in about a week during the annual Hukilau tiki convention. It may be silly, too, but the drinks are fabulous.

A thatched roof doesn't make a tiki bar

BY CHRIS KRIDLER

• FLORIDA TODAY • June 3, 2010

*Since I've become enamored of tiki culture, I've learned that it takes more than a thatched roof to be called tiki. Not that you can tell from the so-called "tiki bars" that keep popping up around Brevard County.

Tiki is a celebration and continuation of the mid-century pop-culture craze that brought people out to Polynesian-themed restaurants and bars decorated with elaborate carvings and funky lamps. The decor evoked exotic getaways. The fantastically elaborate drink menus at places like Trader Vic's, Don the Beachcomber and Fort Lauderdale's Mai Kai would sink the heartiest sailor. More to the point, the cocktails were of high quality and complexity, employing myriad rums and fruit juices to great effect.

Cocoa Beach used to have one of these establishments, back in the space-race days -- the Samoa, which served such drinks as the Samoa Sleeper, the Scorpion and, of course, the Mai-Tai, before my time. And times have changed.

I just get depressed when I go to the local "tiki bar" and end up with another crappy drink made of a frozen mix. A certain new "tiki bar" I visited recently served only pedestrian beer and wine.

Needless to say, my hopes were not high when I signed up to attend the luau at the Crowne Plaza in Indialantic.

On many levels, I was pleasantly surprised. The buffet was good, with a real roast pig, looking appropriately morose under the orange lights. The show was a hoot, too, as a band played Pacific-influenced pop (though the "Margaritaville" cover would have made tiki purists cringe) and then provided a backdrop for dancers performing a cultural tour of the islands. The fire dancer was the most spectacular performer, though he looked as if he were getting more roasted than the pig.

Based on the show and the food, I'd recommend the luau, which returns July 3. But the drinks stink.

My husband asked a bartender if there was anything in the way of fresh fruit juice behind the bar -- anything -- and got an emphatic "no." So we were stuck with the sugar-headache daiquiri, or any number of the sort of cocktails one expects from a touristy hotel bar, like the limeless margarita.

At least the deck where we ate is right on the beach, a lovely setting for the vaguely silly luau. And Ed Volonnino of Ed's Heads added an artistic touch to the proceedings with his colorful carvings.

I'm looking forward to the day when a tiki bar opens on the Space Coast that actually serves the classic tiki drinks that people loved in the past. I think customers would be beating down the door to order them. If you mix it, they will come. (Want to mix them at home? Check out Jeff Berry's "Beachbum Berry Remixed.")

In the meantime, I'm anticipating a visit to the Mai Kai in about a week during the annual Hukilau tiki convention. It may be silly, too, but the drinks are fabulous.*

Post #533848 by woofmutt on Thu, Jun 3, 2010 5:32 AM