In the 1950s, that famous buttoned-down, Eisenhower-era stiffness let loose in the phenomenon of the tiki bar. At the time, they were ubiquitous. All things Polynesian seemed foreign, so it was OK to delve into a world of rhythmic hips and almost fleshy tropical blossoms. Even in the backyard, tiki torches burned. Since 1956, Mai-Kai has been serving this Polynesian fantasy on a deluxe plate. While other spots on the tiki circuit slowly went under, this one persisted. Tiki culture lives on there underneath thatched roof huts, surrounded by lush tropical vegetation, with rain falling over the windows while you sit inside transported. The 51 tropical concoctions, with names like the Zombie, Black Magic, and the Jet Pilot, served by sarong-clad, as they say, maidens, helps set the mood. The stage shows are awesome. Pricey at about $45 a person for the whole shebang, but check out the special drink nights, and call for floor-show-only nights. If you´re there for drinks and they have room, you can sometimes be seated for the show for an extra $9.95.

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