Welcome to Trader T's Tiki Bar

If you let too much time go in between visits with a friend, life happens.

In this case, my friend had been out of the country and experienced some major losses since our last get-together.

Like me, he is a level-headed, practical sort, but unlike me, he is an introvert.  Mostly, he is a good person with whom I always enjoy spending time.

Because he is the logical, organized sort, the day began with him sending me a list of possible places to meet.

He suggested six restaurants; two I'd been to last week, two I avoid like the plague and one didn't excite me.

I chose Magpie, near my house and consistently delivering interesting food.

He said to meet him at 6:20, but when I walked in at 6:18, he was already on the phone and in place, menus in front of him.

My punctuality has nothing on his.

Villa Wolf pinot gris seemed an ideal choice for a summer evening as Friend and I considered what to eat.

There was a tuna tartare special, so that was a given, along with ginger barbecue baby back ribs.

We followed those with Buffalo sweetbreads (house Buffalo sauce, Maytag bleu cheese, Hollandaise and celery ribbons), crispy bites of well-seasoned glands and tonight's house-made sausage, a pork and aged cheddar wurst that showed Chef Owen's mastery of sausage.

Oh, yes, and also supplied tempura shallot rings, a high-falutin' take on one of my diner favorites.

And, just to make sure our arteries clogged fully, we also got crispy pig head torchon, made completely decadent with duck egg aioli and green tomato relish made even better with the addition of pickles.

So while it gently rained on Norton Street just outside the window we were sitting next to, we consumed far more delectables than either of us needed.

More importantly, it gave us time to talk about all that had gone on in his life the past few months- the people lost, the lessons learned, the time well spent.

But lest it sound like we were all sad all the time, we also covered our usual subjects.

Which restaurants have declined, which are still home runs, which owners will never get a clue and how hard it is to order 300 cupcakes with only a morning's notice.

Obviously, my friend has completely different concerns than I do.

I spent a fair amount of time trying to convince him to join me for the Tiki Takeover, a pop-up tiki bar going on at Ipanema tonight, but he insisted he had to be a good worker bee and be up at 5:40.

After extending my sincere apology for anyone having to be up at that ungodly hour, I reminded him that I have limited cocktail experience.

As a wine or straight tequila drinker, mixology is not my forte.

Accordingly, I explained, I needed his expert guidance to navigate a tiki bar menu.

Plus I knew he'd be great fun to crowd-watch with.

And here's the measure of a good friend: despite his early wake-up call, he agreed to join me.

I took a quick detour home to change into my only Hawaiian-print dress and met him at Ips to be swept away to Tiki-land.

Walking in, we found a mob of people for an event that had (supposedly) begun seven minutes earlier.

Clearly Richmond has been severely tiki-deficient and the people were ready to roll.

Up front was a bubble machine blowing bubbles into the oncoming crowd.

The place was decorated well with crabs, monkeys, blow-up palm trees and coconut heads everywhere.

Paper lanterns hung above the bar, grass skirt-like fringe decorated bar tables and a fishing net was draped over the booths.

Mixologists T and Tim looked appropriately dapper in Hawaiian shirts.

DJ Greg "The Puma" was playing the best kind of tiki music, which to me sounded like songs  that made you want hula dance or take a dip in a blue lagoon.

Or drink exotic drinks and laugh with friends.

Given the hordes of humanity, the challenge was getting a drink, but my good buddy and I patiently waited in line until it was our turn to order from a menu of nine drinks (not counting the "12 and 2," a bottle of Hondurian Port Royal beer and a shot of Ron Matusalem rum), most notated with the year of creation.

Bypassing the scorpion bowl (1950s, serves 2-3), friend chose the Mai Tai from 1944, so I suggested we choose something from the '70s, too.

Just trying to mix it up. Ha!

That led us to the Singapore Sling, a bit daunting for a non-cocktail drinker like me, given its Plymouth gin, Martell VS brandy, cherry Heering and Benedictine, but if not tonight, when?

The Singapore sling came in a blue tiki glass with a yellow umbrella, possibly my first cocktail umbrella ever.

The drink was everything we could have hoped for - perfectly made so that no one flavor dominated and the overall effect, despite the abundance of alcohol, was smooth, blended and fruity.

In other words, the kind you could drink like juice and wake up the next day with little umbrellas between your toes and have no memory of how they (or you) got there.

Yum.

The Mai Tai was refreshing, but a little too lime-dominant, although we guessed that was due to the speed with which T and Tim had to make drinks and not to the recipe.

We took our drinks back under the fishing net where there was a little room to move and a far better view of the tiki crowd.

I saw lots of people I knew - the professor, the breakout musician, the mother-to-be, the roommate-seeker, a couple of chefs- and everyone agreed it was worth the wait for the cocktails.

The front and back doors of Ipanema were open, making for pleasant, slightly humid air coming in from the gentle rain, absolutely perfect for such an occasion.

When you're at a tiki bar sipping your first Singapore Sling, listening to songs with steel drums, you want your Hawaiian dress to stick to you just a little.

Because if not tonight, when?