Hank’s Cafe is a drinking person’s bar

If you’ve ever looked around Chinatown, you probably know about Hank’s, on Nuuanu Avenue.

Maybe you saw members of the clientele spill out onto the sidewalk, having a discussion. Maybe you heard music coming out the door, which always seems to be open. Maybe your uncle’s a regular; maybe you dropped in pau hana, or did shots there at an ungodly hour, too late or too early.

If it’s been a while since you dropped in, consider a return visit.

Hank’s may lack the gloss or trendy attraction of nearby nightlife spots, but this rough-around- the-edges stalwart is worth revisiting. It boasts friendly customers, generous bartenders, Chinatown-centric art, and live musical talent that flies under the radar.

Plus, the odds of someone buying shots for the whole bar are higher than any other place in town.

When 5 p.m. arrives at Hank’s, it arrives with a bang. When I’m there, that’s the time that someone puts on “Who Lets the Dogs Out” on the jukebox. The place hums with the electricity of a crowd that’s put in good time drinking and is hitting its stride.

In stark opposition to the fanciful offerings elsewhere in Chinatown, Hank’s is a drinking bar. There’s no food to be had; you come to fill up on Heineken, typically, and soul-spilling conversation.

If you’re into craft beer, this is going to be tough on you, but Hank’s does offer a selection of premium pours, including a Deschutes Fresh Squeezed IPA and an Anchor Porter. Other select domestic beers are $3 all day and night.

“Well drinks are $4, and after 8 p.m. … they’re still $4,” quips bartender Wes Perry.

No need for a happy-hour special for a bar where the happy-hour feeling holds on all day.

There’s one specialty drink at Hank’s – the famed Pineapple Upside Down Cake shot – but on my visit, for a while, nobody could remember how to make it.

That’s not because they’re bad bartenders, but because the Pineapple Upside Down Cake is strictly the brainchild of Dave Loando, Hank’s beloved nighttime bartender of more than a decade.

After some discussion between daytime bartender Perry, and his bartender uncle, John Perry Sr., who also works at Hank’s and was seated at the bar, the ingredients came together: Pinnacle Cake Vodka; a splash of 7-Up; and pineapple juice, shaken and poured. A drop of grenadine leaves it layered and golden, tasting just like a liquid version of its namesake cake.

At 75, John Perry, Sr., believes he’s the oldest working bartender in Chinatown. He’s got stories from the bad old days to prove it. Sitting at the Hank’s bar, crosswise amidst the banter, feels like gaining entrance into a family full of inside jokes they can’t wait to let you in on.

One regular tells me his time is Sunday mornings; he makes it in by 7 a.m. to meet the rest of the crew, and one of them always brings food.

Here is the rare place where pretense is stripped away, where people can come to both belong and escape. Everything stays the same, and yet, anything could happen.

Besides the people, the heart of Hank’s has always been art and music. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturday’s, live music lights up the room and dancing customers fill up the bar.

The “Hank” of Hank’s, Hank Taufaasau, has painted gorgeously rendered scenes of Chinatown in full loving color that line the walls. The largest, reminiscent of the Last Supper, is a scene from River Street filled with many of the very faces I see in the bar. Like the painting, customers become part of the scenery here, bound up in the daily routines of companionship and revelry.