The Hibachi: old Manhattan meets new Hermosa
Bob Elling, Hibachi co-owner with Kate Marjaniemi, welcomes guests with a big smile.
If you grew up in Manhattan Beach, you might remember a restaurant that was synonymous with Oriental mystery, a place where low tables were separated by paper screens adorned with Japanese-style paintings. It was everyone’s favorite date spot, thanks to the seductively low light, exotic atmosphere, and strong drinks served by waiters who rarely checked driver’s licenses. Couples grew close by candlelight beneath a lovely brush and ink painting of a monkey that dated back to the 1930s, intoxicated by the sensuous atmosphere and powerful mai tais.
That establishment expired in 2000, but a former manager had a dream of carrying on the tradition and reopened in Hermosa a few years later. I went there when the place was new and initially wasn’t impressed – I think I was hoping for the atmosphere of the old place as well as the food, and the funky surf dive style of the new establishment put me off. A recent visit has given me a different perspective, namely that the old Hibachi fit the old Manhattan Beach, the new Hibachi fits the new Hermosa.
This isn’t to say that it’s raucous in the manner of the establishments a block closer to the water, because it’s not. By the standards of Hermosa, this place is tranquil, a quiet spot for a date or a family meal. (And those two things are not incompatible; you might meet someone at a loud nightclub, but that’s not where you’re going to get to know them very well. It would also be useful to know if your date has a sense of whimsy that extends to décor that includes sock puppet monkeys, for instance. I already knew that my date would like this kind of thing, but then again we have been married for over 20 years.)
The menu here is a bit simpler than I remember from the old Hibachi, which offered things on skewers grilled at the table as appetizers. These are probably a victim of changing tastes and a newly aggressive air quality department that frowns on charcoal indoors. We were tempted by a steamed artichoke with drawn butter and mayonnaise or some sui mai, but decided to start our meal with a teriyaki chicken salad and a bowl of chili.
The chili was not your traditional bowl of red. It was bright red, had a sweet tomato character with a hint of hot to complement the beefy taste, only a whisper of onion, and no detectable cumin. Fresh chopped white onion and cheddar cheese are offered, as is rice, and the onion added a dimension I thought was lacking. I’m used to hotter, more deeply flavored chilies and had to reboot my expectations. Measured on its own, it was interesting but not as complex as the long-simmered and spicy versions that I adore.
The chicken salad, on the other hand, reminded me why I liked the teriyaki sauce at the old original Hibachi. Most teriyakis are heavy and sweet, but this one is sufficiently light to work as both a salad dressing and as a marinade for the meat. The salad was the traditional mix of lettuce, mushroom, tomato, and carrot shreds. It was good with the teriyaki dressing and excellent with the lightly sweet creamy mustard sauce. That sauce made an interesting flavor contrast with the teriyaki chicken, a mild sharpness to offset the sweetness, and I’d have it again any time.
My wife ordered a “Mookie,” a drink made from Myers’s rum with orange and cranberry juices, while I picked a navy grog. After a sip of each of them, we switched; I liked the tart and fruity flavors, she the full, dark smokiness of the Cruzan blackstrap molasses rum. Rum drinks fit the atmosphere and the menu here – the fruity, sweet-and-sour flavors are common to both. While we ate and sipped, we relaxed and watched the street life on Pier through the big windows and chatted briefly with Bob, the easygoing co-owner of the place. He didn’t actually work at the original Hibachi, though he was in another business with the original owner, but has heard many stories about the place and was happy to welcome diners who remembered the old days.
For dinner, my wife had selected the seafood “casserole” — actually a soup, but it was called a casserole at the original Hibachi, so a casserole it is called now. It’s actually halfway between a mild gumbo and a cioppino, a base of celery, onion, and tomato stewed with mild herbs and salmon, shrimp, and whitefish. It was gently savory with a fresh tomato flavor, a seafood soup for people who like the flavor of fish accented with spices rather than overpowered, and my wife ate every speck.
I had decided on a teriyaki rib eye, my favorite steak, despite the fact that the menu referred to it as a thin cut. Rib eye is the most flavorful steak, but turns to jerky when overcooked, so I was interested in seeing how this turned out. The Hibachi’s idea of thin is not mine – this steak was more than half an inch thick and turned out nicely moist. It had been grilled over a relatively low fire, just enough to caramelize the sauce a bit without charring the meat. I prefer a bit of char on a steak, but the flavors of teriyaki and beef were enjoyable enough to stand on their own. The steak was offered with white or brown rice (I chose brown because I like the mild nuttiness of the flavor), and a dinner salad. I tried the house tomato vinaigrette, which reminded me of a light Catalina dressing, and was happy with my selection. I also had a mai tai that was just about perfect, with the right proportion of lime juice to make me dream of a tropical island rather than the gray skies Hermosa was experiencing at the moment.
The only desserts offered were ice creams and we weren’t in a frozen confection mood on a cool evening, so we examined the bottom of our cups for any stray drops and departed. The bill was a modest $93 for appetizers, two large dinners and three drinks – and it had been a very enjoyable dinner. There is nowhere else in downtown Hermosa where you can dine in such relaxed comfort on food that defies all modern trends, giving the Hibachi a precious niche in the local scene. On another night I may delight in flamboyant creativity or a boisterous atmosphere – for tonight, the Hibachi was just where we wanted to be.
The Hibachi is at 117 Pier Avenue in Hermosa Beach. Open for dinner daily. Street parking only, wheelchair access okay, full bar, few vegetarian choices. Call (310) 379-6456. ER