We all know why you won’t go to Waikiki. Too glitzy, too noisy, too touristy. Doesn’t feel like the real Hawaii anymore.

Aloha Table somehow manages to defy all this. It’s owned by a well-known Japanese company, Zetton Inc., which has Aloha Table restaurants in Japan and also runs restaurants named Goofy and Heavenly in Waikiki. So while it obviously caters to Japanese clientele, it captures a quiet, unpretentious simplicity that makes for a rewarding happy-hour visit for anyone, local or not.

The experience

Manager Billy Huang proudly calls the place “a hidden gem” in Waikiki, and he’s got good reason. Aloha Table is on Lauula Street, a back alley that runs behind the Waikiki Shopping Plaza, between Seaside and Royal Hawaiian avenues. You’d walk past Lauula Street in a blink if you weren’t looking for it, and since the makai side of Lauula is merely the blank facade of the shopping center, you’d be inclined to think there’s little of any consequence down there.

But about halfway down the block sits a white two-story stucco building, with green awnings covering the second floor and carved panels on the balcony railings. Go upstairs to the second floor and you wind up in a small dining room of about a half-dozen tables and a bar, opening out to the balcony that you’ve seen from the street. Another few tables are set up there.

There is no view to speak of, merely that blank wall of the Waikiki Shopping Plaza’s backside, and there’s no attempt to gussy the place up. It has to be one of the few bars left in Waikiki with no flat screen TV on the wall, and Aloha Table doesn’t bother with loud music. It’s actually rather refreshing.

The decor is minimal — aside from a few framed posters and paintings on the walls, the main decorative element is a balsa surfboard hanging from the wall. It’s a genuine antique, shaped by famed surfer and shaper Dale Velzy in 1956.

Instead, you get the warmth of a well-worn but still beautiful hardwood floor, and woven ceiling panels with ceiling fans. The bar is made of wood, and with little arched openings behind it for the liquor bottles, you almost feel like you’re aboard a classic yacht rather than in a modern-day Waikiki bar.

The food

There is a small happy-hour pupu menu at Aloha Table, featuring smaller portions of items from its regular list of pupus. The items are very affordable. We had the edamame ($3) with garlic, very nicely roasted and tasty. They also prepare it with sea salt or wasabi.

We also had the spicy chicken wings, $5 for four pieces. These were perfectly prepared, with a light crust but still tender and moist inside. Maybe I’ve gotten too accustomed to grabbing wings that have been sitting around on a buffet table, but these seemed like a revelation.

Similarly, the garlic shrimp, prepared with the shell on, $5.50 for four, served with a small scoop of rice, were a light, tasty treat.

From the regular menu, what I hope to try when I have the appetite is Aloha Table’s Supreme Loco Moco ($18), which is made with American-raised wagyu beef, with short-grain rice, a demi-glace of mushroom and onions, and of course two sunny-side-up eggs. I’ll have to go vegetarian for a few days as penance, but it sounds fabulous.

The drinks

For happy hour Aloha Table takes $1 off beers, with options including Bud Light or Coors Light at $3.25; Corona or Heineken for $3.75; Big Wave Golden Ale, Fire Rock Pale Ale and others at $4; and $4.50 for Longboard Lager.

House red and white wine is $4 for happy hour, a $2 discount.

Drinks are standard bar fare for Hawaii tourists. We had the Blue Hawaii, with light rum, pineapple juice, blue curacao and lemon, which was a fine light refreshment. The Sunset, meanwhile, was just a bit heavier with malibu, amaretto, orange and grenadine. At $5 for happy hour, a $3 discount, they hit the spot nicely.

Other cocktails include a Mai Tai, Pina Colada, Sea Breeze and Mojito, all discounted to $5 from $8 for happy hour.

The verdict

Yes, you’ll hear more Japanese than English or pidgin at Aloha Table, but if you want someplace quiet and relaxed, it’s a fine choice. It might seem weird that a Japanese company, catering to Japanese clientele, can come up with this formula, but it doesn’t matter when you’re cooling your heels.

Huang said he’s had more than a few locals become regulars, and with the tourist crowd the place fills up for the dinner hour. After all, the hubbub of the rest of Waikiki is just a few seconds away, even though it seems much farther.