Hula till you drop

WAVES crash on the wide, sandy beach. Palms sway, and the blue Pacific stretches out to forever. Squint -- really hard -- and you could be in Hawaii.

OK, maybe not. But if you’re jonesing for some island culture after the beach on a Sunday afternoon, keep those peepers squinting and make your way up to Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica. See the guy with the happy-hour sign bidding customers welcome at the corner of Broadway? Let him show you inside, and take a seat in the bar, or outside by the fire pit.

It’s Hawaiian luau -- a regular Sunday thing at Ma’kai Lounge.

How lovely, the island twang of that ukulele. How authentic, that fire pit out front. How inviting, the open, breezy bar. And look at that hula dancer go!

Because we’re five people and it’s pretty crowded, we don’t get seated in one of those prime spots, but at a booth in back. That’s fine -- for me, anyway; I have an unobstructed view of the square bar. It’s fun to watch the progress of the svelte server with the hibiscus behind her ear whispering sweet somethings into the ear of a handsome customer.

We order Ma’kai Tais and Pina Kai Ladas (Ma’kai’s versions of mai tais and pina coladas, respectively) and consider which of two pupu platters to choose.

We opt for the “Mauaka platter,” which includes slow-roasted kalua pig; Hawaiian barbecue ribs; something called laulau, which the menu describes as ginger chicken and pineapple coconut rice steamed in a bamboo leaf; Hawaiian macaroni salad; sesame cabbage salad; fruit; and, don’tcha know, poi -- Hawaii’s much-maligned state starch, mashed taro root. The platter is $40, so we figure it must be big, but we don’t have much of a sense of how big, and the waiter, as friendly and correct as he is, isn’t much help there. So we supplement our order with some poke (pronounced PO-kay, chopped raw-tuna salad), sugarcane prawns and pork and cabbage dumplings.

As I duck into the bar to check out the music, the ukulele player, who appears to be Hawaiian (at least he sings with a convincing Hawaiian lilt), and the tall, gray-haired female bassist who also sings, are wrapping up a stirring rendition of “Blue Hawaii”; the pretty, dark-haired hula dancer sways to the beat and tells an ancient story with her hands.

As the song finishes, the ukulele player coos into the mike, “Who’s the big kahuna? It’s our chef back there, mon! He’s got fried rice; he’s got artichokes from the islands....”

I rush back to the table, order a Singapore Sling this time, and ask the waiter if the artichokes are really from the islands. He checks with the kitchen, comes back and assures me they are. Since I don’t believe I’ve ever encountered a non-California-grown artichoke in the Golden State, I have to add that to the order.

It comes nicely charred from the grill, with an ill-advised sweet lemon sauce for dipping. The pupu platter comes too, missing the pineapple coconut rice. I had imagined that the kalua pig would be some enormous creature with an apple in its mouth -- or at least something that looks to have been carved from such -- but it’s just a modest portion of shredded roast pork.

But so what if the pork’s an anticlimax; who cares if the poke lacks finesse? Here comes the entertainment, roving the restaurant to make sure everyone gets a little close-up taste.

“How many of you have been to Kauai, the Garden Isle?” asks Mr. Ukulele, and those of us sitting in the booths offer a dutiful show of hands. Then the music comes, a song about Kauai, complete with hula dance. Suddenly that kalua pig seems just fine, and if you forget about the sauce, the artichoke’s delicious.

A wacky drink or two later, then a couple of white chocolate-macadamia nut cookies, hot and gooey from the oven, and Santa Monica feels positively tropical.

*

Ma’kai Lounge

Where: 101 Broadway, Santa Monica

When: Hawaiian luau, 3 to 7 p.m. Sundays

Price: Large platters, $40 to $45; desserts, $8

Info: (310) 434-1511