Created by Victor Bergeron, better known as Trader Vic. Beginning in the 50’s, the Tiki was always by his side and the Trader was a larger than life figure, an original, one of a dying breed of unique characters lacking in today’s public arena. A patriarch, a gentleman and a chauvinist in one, Trader Vic was a successful restaurateur and an epicure who encouraged a generation of “sophisticated savages” to “go native” and create their own Polynesia’s in lounges, backyards and bowling alleys. He elevated South Seas ``chow and grog,” as he liked to call it. Trader Vic was a culinary innovator. After his success with “nouveau Polynesian” fare he was among the first to bring Mexican food to the American public (with his Senor Pico restaurants) and far ahead of his time he lauded sushi as a delicacy to be savored. It all began at a joint called Hinky Dinks in Oakland, across the bay from San Francisco. This was the first establishment Vic built for himself in 1934, a wooden shack erected with his last five hundred bucks. In the history of Polynesian pop there have been certain “power places,” like the Beachcomber in Hollywood, the Luau in Beverly Hills, the Lanai in San Mateo, or the Bali Hai in San Diego, that emanated the name of Tiki. Hinky Dinks, soon to become Trader Vic’s, was one of them.
The late Herb Caen, eminent San Francisco columnist, remembered it as “little more than a beer joint and yet you knew right away it was someplace special. Good places, as to stinkers, have a distinctive and mysterious atmosphere, an immediate feeling of quality, dedication, success and self-confidence. “And Victor Bergeron was an ambitious man with a knack for fancy cocktails and that was exactly what people had a hankering for after the repeal of Prohibition. He went on a research trip to Cuba and Louisiana and studied with the top mixologists on location. But it was his visit to Los Angeles that was most influential. In his biography he reveals: “We went to a place called the South Seas that doesn’t exist anymore and even visited Don the Beachcomber in Hollywood. In fact, I even bought some stuff from Don the Beachcomber. When I got back to Oakland and told my wife about what I had seen, we agreed to change the name of our restaurant and change the décor. We decided that Hinky Dinks was a junky name and that the place should be named after someone we could tell a story about. My wife suggested Trader Vic’s because I was always making a trade with someone. Fine, I became Trader Vic.
