Tiki-Ti

The Real Deal

You’ll walk right past Tiki-Ti if you’re not looking for it. The brown exterior on Sunset Boulevard gives nothing away except a large tiki sculpture and the name in bold letters. No windows. No hint of what’s inside. Just a line of people waiting on the sidewalk most nights after 6pm.

The bar opened April 28, 1961 in a former violin repair shop. Ray Buhen had worked at Don the Beachcomber since 1934, learning directly from the founder who invented modern tiki drinks. Ray was one of the “Four Boys” who squeezed fresh juices, carved ice, and created secret syrups for the cocktails that launched a movement. After stints at Seven Seas and The Luau, he opened his own place. When a nearby movie studio closed in 1965, Ray stopped serving beer and committed fully to exotic cocktails. That decision stuck.

The Space

Inside is one room. The bar takes up half the floor space. Twelve stools line the counter. A few small tables fill the rest. When 40 people show up, the place is packed. Handwritten placards honoring long-time regulars cover the walls like tropical wallpaper. Pufferfish lamps glow above. Bamboo screens divide sections. A small waterfall burbles in back. Vintage tiki mugs crowd every shelf. The decor is so dense you could study it for an hour and still miss details.

Ray’s son Mike Sr. and grandson Mike Jr. work behind the bar. They’re the only employees. They know the recipes by heart. Many are Ray’s originals, created through decades of experimentation. The menu lists 94+ drinks divided by base spirit. Names give few clues about what’s inside. Ray’s Mistake, Puka Punch, Navy Grog, The Last Drop. These are closely guarded recipes.

The Drinks

Order Ray’s Mistake first. Ray created it accidentally in 1968 while making an Anting Anting for a regular. He grabbed wrong syrups but the customer liked it anyway. Now it’s the signature drink. Passion fruit with dark Coruba rum and secret flavorings. On Wednesdays until 9pm it’s the special. At 9pm, Mike Sr. rings a bell five times. Everyone raises their glass. The whole bar toasts Ray. It happens every Wednesday without fail.

Some drinks come with rituals. Order Blood and Sand and the bar erupts in “Toro! Toro! Toro!” chants while Mike tops it with tequila. A small mechanical bull travels down the bar past everyone’s drinks. Order Uga Booga and the crowd yells the name as your drink comes together. These moments turn strangers into participants.

The pours are strong. Drinks arrive topped with foam and maraschino cherries. Bar snacks are free. No beer, no wine, no martinis. This is tiki or nothing. Except for “The Last Beer” on a high shelf with an ever-escalating price tag. It’s a running joke.

The Scene

Regulars arrive at opening. First-timers wait in line. The bar fills by 7pm most nights and stays full. Mike and Mike Jr. are friendly and engaging. They’ll ask questions and guide you to drinks you’ll like. The crowd is mixed: tiki enthusiasts, neighborhood locals, curious visitors, celebrities (Quentin Tarantino, Nicolas Cage, and Marlon Brando have all spent time here).

Limited street parking fills quickly. Metered spots run about $1-2 per hour for two hours max. Plan to arrive early or wait.

What Makes It Matter

Most tiki bars are recreations. Tiki-Ti is an original. Ray helped create the drinks that defined the genre. His family preserved his work without updating it for trends. The 2023 Spirited Awards gave Tiki-Ti the Timeless U.S. Award, recognizing its importance to cocktail culture. Artists like Shag have created works honoring the bar. “Crazy” Al Evans carved Family Tree, a tiki-within-a-tiki-within-a-tiki representing three Buhen generations. It hangs above the bar.

This is where Hollywood’s tiki movement started in the 1930s and survived through decades when nobody cared about tropical drinks. The bar stayed open through disco, grunge, craft cocktail movements. It outlasted trends by ignoring them. What you get he