Caribbean & Hawaiian Kitchen + Tiki Bar
A passport in plate form. We sail from the volcanic kitchens of Hawaii to the spice-warmed pots of the Caribbean, gathering huli huli smoke, jerk perfume, and salt-cured fish along the way. Each dish carries a stamp from somewhere warmer than Brooklyn.
Aged rums in cut crystal. Orgeat from real almonds. Pineapple shaken hard enough to wake the neighbors. Our bar is a 1962 lounge that learned to mix with a Brooklyn accent — refined, generous, never kitsch.
"Wishing you were here. The rum is good, the snapper is whole, and the band starts at nine."
A Caribbean & Hawaiian kitchen with a tiki bar attached, hidden in plain sight on Myrtle Avenue.