Fort Lauderdale's old-guard dining rooms outlasted every boom — and still set the table for how the city eats
Where the City's Dining History Lives
Fort Lauderdale reinvents itself every decade or so — a new hotel tower, a new restaurant row, a new wave of chefs chasing the next trend. But a handful of rooms have simply refused to move on, and that stubbornness turns out to be their greatest quality.
The Mai-Kai on North Federal Highway is the undisputed anchor of the list. Opened in 1956 by the Thornton brothers, it is one of the last great tiki palaces in America: a sprawling compound of thatched rooflines, carved tikis, flaming torches and rum drinks assembled according to recipes that pre-date the word "cocktail menu." The Molokai bar still draws serious tiki enthusiasts from across the country, and the Mystery Drink — served in a ceramic vessel with a gardenia floating on top — has been ordered essentially without interruption since the Eisenhower administration. The kitchen leans into its Cantonese-Polynesian heritage with dishes like pu pu platters and whole roasted duck, while the Polynesian Islander Revue, a live dance and music show, continues to run on weekend evenings. The Mai-Kai survived a near-closure, a dedicated preservation campaign, and several hurricanes. It is not going anywhere.
Beyond the Mai-Kai, the city has a small constellation of old-guard spots worth knowing. Kelly's Landing, tucked along the water, still serves the kind of casual seafood — cold stone crabs, fried grouper, cold beer — that reminds you this was once a working fishing town before the yachts arrived. On Las Olas Boulevard, the dining strip has turned over many times, but the boulevard itself remains the spine of the city's restaurant culture, a role it has played since the mid-twentieth century, when it was lined with supper clubs catering to winter visitors escaping the Midwest cold.
What these rooms share is an understanding that Fort Lauderdale's food identity was built on the water long before farm-to-table was a phrase. Stone crab, yellowtail, mahi-mahi — the Gulf Stream runs close to shore here, and the old kitchens always knew it.
The Mai-Kai is the one to seek out first. Make a reservation, dress up slightly, order the Mystery Drink, and let the show begin. Some things the city got right the first time.