LUAU

: : Okay... we had to put our heads together for this one. How could all the elements be there but not come together right? Luau’s been around since 1973, one of the owners has visited Hawaii on at least a couple of occasions, and he admitted that some of his recipes were stolen from the Kon Tiki. But it all just didn’t click. The necessary decorative elements were in place: tikis, blowfish, lamps, hanging plants, colored lights... but along with the decor were two major turn-offs for me. First, a brick wall – which gave the impression that the place was once a Portuguese restaurant that had gone Polynesian at some point. And second, windows – there is no need for windows in a Polynesian restaurant of Luau’s size. Places this small should, like Aloha in St-Jérôme, make you feel like you’re drinking and dining in a big hut or in a cave at the base of a big volcano. The windows at Luau completely destroy this effect. Luau is worth a look if you find yourself in Ste-Adèle but, if you’re driving up from Montreal, there’s no need to go further than Aloha in St-Jérôme for your Pu-Pu Platter. : :

: : Side note... for those of you who pay attention or are driven completely nuts by this type of thing: the owner we spoke to pronounced Luau as “Loo-owe”, much in the way some Montrealers pronounce Loblaws as “Low-blass.” : :

John Trivisonno © 2000

: : The Greg Brady Room. Well, that's what I'm calling it anyway, and it's pretty much the only redeeming feature of Ste-Adèle’s Luau. Remember the Brady Bunch episode when Greg went hippie and redecorated with bead curtains and a bunch of oversized throw cushions (and a sitar would strum whenever we'd lay eyes on his “pad”)? What if Greg had flipped his lid for all things Tiki instead? : :

: : A dark oasis of calm in an overpriced, overlit Tiki restaurant, the Greg Brady Room is a treasure-trove of early 70's kitsch. One large table (seating about 8) and two smaller ones (seating 2 apiece) are sunken into three custom depressions carved out of the gold-shagged floor. This effectively transforms the floor into one large communal chair, much like the concept of the “endless lawn” made popular by urban planners in 1950s/60s suburbia. No fences – and in some cases no sidewalks – made your lawn fade into your neighbour’s; squint and the effect was of one giant green space with houses ‘floating’ in orderly rows like anchored yachts in a lagoon. At Luau, the result is much the same: the tables become islands in a wooly sea of shag and a sky of barkcloth and bamboo. Squint as I might though, I couldn't get my bill to look any smaller. : :

: : With its smokey-red prints of pseudo-Oriental figures hanging cockeyed, cheapo souvenir masks and wilting potted plants, it's as if a Japanese restaurant and suburban rec-room both found themselves shipwrecked on Easter Island and combined their efforts for survival's sake. The Greg Brady Room is a dusty old delight in an otherwise bad Tiki establishment. : :

Dave LeBlanc © 2000

: : For those who love bland, tasteless food, this place is fantastic! You’ll absolutely love it! The Luau boasts an exotic array of sumptuously generic specialities. Although the names of the dishes we ordered were all different, their content was all the same: plain rice and plainly sautéed vegetables (only their arrangement on the plate varied in order to justify the different names). Not to worry about getting too much meat either; the Polynesian Pork, for example, consisted of the same glazed vegetables lovingly sprinkled with pork particles! Best of all: no spices used in, on, or anywhere near this food! Do you have a delicate palate, or none whatsoever? This is the place for you, pally! (Pre-chewing service available.) : :

Fred Sarli © 2000

: : On paper, the Luau looks pretty good. They have a little stream, blowfish lamps, nice rattan chairs... most of what you need for a good tiki bar. So why doesn't the overall effect work? Here's what I think. A tiki bar should be a carefully controlled environment that offers its customers a pretend trip to an exotic locale. The problem with the Luau is that the Laurentians are too darn pretty... tourists and locals don't need to pretend they're in Polynesia! The owner knows this, so there is an attempt to make the place bright and breezy. I'm sure his customers appreciate the cheerful atmosphere. : :

: : Unfortunately, “bright, breezy and cheerful” is not what you want when you go to a tiki bar. You want dark, smoky and exotic. I bet the Luau would be way better if it was sitting across from an east end oil refinery for the last thirty years instead of in picturesque Ste-Adele! : :

Bobby Beaton © 2000

Luau

146 Morin

Sainte-Adele, QC J8B 2P7

450-229-2911

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