Inspired by Florida's famed Mai-Kai restaurant, Bill Sapp and Lee Henry opened the Kahiki Supper Club in 1961. They set out simply to build a nice Polynesian restaurant and ended up establishing the most magnificent one of them all. Patrons lined up for hours to see the celebrities who dined there--everyone from Betty White to Raymond Burr. Outside, two giant Easter Island heads with flames spouting from their topknots stood guard while customers dined in a faux tribal village with thatched huts, palm trees and a towering fireplace moai. One wall featured aquariums of exotic fish and another had windows overlooking a tropical rainforest with periodic thunderstorms. For nearly forty years, the Kahiki was the undisputed center of tiki culture.
I remain fascinated by these stories of fantastical tiki palaces. It’s funny; I didn’t become a tiki adherent until about a year ago. I’d been to backyard luaus. I’d been to both Trader Sam’s on Disney property. But the whole tiki “thing” didn’t hit until last year when my buddy Jeff and I started visiting famous tiki bars in far-off California cities like San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Palm Springs.
I could feel the interest growing before then, though. On a trip to visit my friend Josh in Los Angeles, I found myself in a bookstore at The Grove, and there I bought a book on California Tiki. Slender, factual book. But it gave me the tools I needed to go further and deeper, if I wanted to.
It didn’t hurt that I’d recently come back from my honeymoon in Hawai’i, where the libations were strong and the moon over the South Pacific was high. I brought these experiences with me, and in 2020, I decided to go full bore.
That book on California tiki had a sequel: a book, fascinatingly, on Ohio tiki. Ohio? What the? And yet I read it, and from that I began to sense the scope of how all-encompassing the tiki trend really was in America at the mid-century. Ohio wasn’t a place like California, with it’s Don the Beachcombers and Trader Vic’s. It wasn’t like Florida, with its warm climate to attract visitors to the Mai-Kai. But Ohio has something no other place had: the Kahiki Supper Club.
Can I just say how tickled the term “supper club” makes me. It seems so square, but it’s also kind of pleasant and homey. And it fits the Kahiki, which I’d read a little about in that Ohio tiki book ... but I had no idea how deeply attached people were to this place. Man, how I would have liked to have visited in the 1960s.
We get the whole story here: a repeat of tiki’s American origins, how the Kahiki was proposed and built, who made the pottery and who served the food. All to the good. However, some chapters deal with some controversial elements in the restaurant’s history that felt out of place; racial tensions and terrible crimes that seem ... not sensationalized, but maybe too “real” in this book that wants to show you escapism and how it was attained.
You know, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten this into Polynesian pop if not for this quarantine thing we’re all going through. It’s given me a unique perspective on the concept of escape to a faraway place that’s only real in the imagination. That’s what a place like the Kahiki Supper Club does - offers an ersatz escape from the Midwestern humdrum that nevertheless feels real and vital and important.
I never saw the Kahiki when it was around. I wish I had. But at least now, I have a deeper understanding why it succeeded for a little while, and why some people wish they could journey back to it even now.
Big applause to the authors who have saved such important memories of an important restaurant in American history. The best part of this book is that they did numerous interviews with former employees and customers, which are an outstanding collection for future historians.
The authors clearly see their intended readers as people who knew the Kahiki, perhaps extremely well. And I suspect those are the ones who will treasure this book the most. There are frequent off-hand references to important things that someone who never went there won't know. As someone who has never been to Columbus and had no personal experience of the Kahiki, I was sometimes surprised (and frustrated) to find references to things like simulated thunderstorms that I was dying to know more about but were never explained.
Overall, I just wanted more. More photographs for sure (a chronic problem with History Press books). More chronology about how the restaurant evolved over time. And mostly more historical insight. Sure, there's an overview of other Columbus restaurants (mostly meaningless to someone who never experienced them and doesn't know the streets referred to). But I wanted someone to help me understand better where the Kahiki fit in the bigger history of Midwestern restaurants and in the history of tiki. I wanted more analysis of how the Kahiki (esp the mystery girl) corresponds with the Mai-Kai. I wanted more analysis of who the targeted customer base was (locals, sure, but are we talking businessmen, romantic couples, kids, tourists, suburbanites -- they all appear here but I couldn't really tell what a typical night's clientele there looked like).
It makes me sad that important parts of American history like restaurants aren't taken more seriously by historians. This book is an important, even a critical, contribution to preserving the history of American tiki-pop, but this area remains ripe for future historical exploration.
Man, I miss the Kahiki. It was quite interesting to read about the early days of this iconic Columbus restaurant. I just might try to make my own version of the Tahitian mermaid and smoking drink.
I grew up down the street from the Kahiki. As a kid I didn’t realize how unusual and special the building was. It was just that place across from the Town and Country with the cool Easter Island statues in front. It wasn’t until after it was bulldozed that I began to feel regret at losing such a unique piece of our city’s history.
The book glosses over the decision to sell the property to Walgreens, who then demolished it and built one of their dime a dozen trash pharmacies in its place. I find it hard to understand how a building recently added to the National Register of Historic Places, earlier than most buildings due to its historical significance, could be torn down so carelessly. At the time I heard rumors that the building was too old and roach/rodent infested to be saved, but I want the facts and this book fails to fully provide them.
It does however give a lot of interesting history, and lots of nostalgia.
A fun walk down memory lane. The Kahiki closed when I was in high school but I have many fond memories of birthday dinners there as a kid where the birthday celebrant got to sit in the huge wicker seat of honor and we would order the smoking drinks and roast our meatball kabobs over a small fire.
I enjoyed reading the history of the place and I appreciate that the author included the less romantic side of Kahiki's history (multiple robberies, a homicide, a dead Jane Doe, police brutality).
It would be fun to travel back in time for a night and visit the Kahiki during its heyday.
I remember passing the Kahiki as a kid many times and BEGGING my mom to take me. She always said no… she had gone as a kid with her Girl Scout troop and was creeped out by the fish tanks. (Oof!) I said I would go “as a grown up.” Instead, it was torn down the year I graduated from college. As an enthusiast of Mid-Century decor and tiki culture, it kills me that this gem was in my reach and I never got to enjoy its splendor.
A good book, especially if you are/were a resident of Columbus OH. The authors were very passionate about this important Tiki temple, and gave extremely detailed accounts of its history and the background of the restaurant scene in Columbus before, during, and after the Kahiki came to town. A slow read but a good read.
I really enjoyed this book. It takes the reader on an historic journey from the Kahiki's inception to its closing. It's chock full of history and wonderful stories as well as great pictures. Sadly, I never got to visit the Kahiki when I moved to Columbus, Ohio in 1999. This book is the closest thing to a time machine. I enjoyed reading about the tiki fad and it's influence on popular culture as well as other unique restaurants started by Lee Henry and Bill Sapp.
This was an interesting look at the rise and fall of the Kahiki - an iconic Columbus landmark. It also provides a good look at themed restaurants in general, along with the Polynesian craze of the 1960s. There are also some recipes for food and drinks that were served there - did we really drink all those sweet and sugary drinks?! Wow.
What a fun read about an amazing restaurant. I have never been to Kahiki or even Ohio but this well written, engaging read made me feel as though I was at the Kahiki Supper Club back in the 60's. Loads of pictures and recipes from the restaurant inside this is a great read for just about everyone.
Definitely a worthwhile read for anyone into history and tiki culture although goes off on a lot of tangents regarding other business dealings from the original owners and lots of testimonials.