CHUNTIKIS — What Did I Stumble Into?

Earlier this year, I had the pleasure of visiting The Kon-Tiki Room in Oakland, CA. I had been to its parent bar, The Kon-Tiki a few times, but hadn’t been to the newer bar. When I wrote about my visit to The Kon-Tiki Room, I looked through my old posts to see what I’d scribbled about The Kon-Tiki. While I had written a brief, postmortem bit on The Kon-Tiki’s predecessor, Longitude, there was nothing about The Kon-Tiki itself. On my next visit to California, I planned to rectify that. Those plans got hijacked mid-visit. What the heck did I stumble into?

It was a Sunday evening during Memorial Day weekend. I always like to visit tiki and immersive bars during quieter times to really get a good look at the place and get a feel for it. Sundays are usually pretty quiet. On a holiday weekend, I was hoping it would be virtually deserted. I checked the bar’s website’s calendar to be sure. Nothing was listed as happening. Good.

I took BART into Oakland and braved the urban jungle in anticipation of the quiet, relaxing tiki paradise that awaited me a few blocks away. As I approached, I noted that I was arriving a few minutes before opening. That was okay. A man had parked right in front of the bar (lucky spot!), had removed a box of records and was hading for the front door. A DJ? My heart began to sink somewhat, but I offered to open the door for him. It was locked. I said I thought I’d seen some people using a side door around the corner. He went off and I was left standing there alone.

A moment or two later, these two young women showed up. A few minutes later a couple wearing aloha wear appeared. Then there was a group of three people, another couple, another small group. What was going on? I sighed. More and more this was looking like a mistake. This was totally not what I had planned on.

A bit after 5, a man came around the side and said it would be a few more minutes until they opened. Swell… While we waited, even more people showed up. Finally, about 20 minutes later, the doors were opened and in we went.

As I was alone, I was hoping for a spot at the bar. Once I found a place and sat, I realized that the loud music blaring was some sort of Latin stuff. The place was filling up quickly, too. What was going on? There were several drink specials (under the heading “Chuntikis.” What was that?) with Hispanic names, many of which featured tequila. Was it some sort of special Latin Night or something? This was not what I had expected at all. But still, I was there to take a fresh look at the place—not whatever event was happening. I could make this work, right? I ordered a Kon-Tiki Grog and started to take my pictures.

One of the bartenders started talking to me while my back was turned. “While you are waiting for your drink, try this,” he said. “It’s a Secret Milk Punch. It’s not on the menu.” He set a small glass in front of me and walked away as I turned around. That was very nice of him to offer me a sample, especially since they were already so busy. I took a sip.

Oh my stars! The Secret Milk Punch knocked my socks off. It was so incredibly good. It was sweet, but not overly so. There was no harsh alcoholic taste either. When the bartender came back again, I asked if he had made the drink. It was simply amazing. He had made it and it was a big part of a cocktail that was being served that night only. Hmm.

I still had no idea what was going on that evening. My Grog arrived and I started to sip. It occurred to me that I might want to look up Kon-Tiki’s Instagram account and see if anything was listed there. It was then I saw this announcement:

“Cocktails with a cause”? “Cocktails and history”? What was going on? I read the blurb beneath the picture. It kind of explained the evening, but all I immediately focused on was the mention of an upcoming new drink menu. A dozen new drinks were promised, with all but four of the current drinks saying aloha. WHAT!?! At this point, I was still planning this evening as being a write up of The Kon-Tiki and I was anxious to see what drinks were staying and which were leaving. I had perused the menu online and had made a mental note of which drinks I intended to try. I asked the bartender if he knew what was being cut.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “I just know about these drinks.” He indicated the Chuntikis drink specials menu. The name Jules Gutierrez was credited for the “cocteles con causa” (“cocktails with a cause”).

I asked if that was he, Jules Gutierrez? Yes, it was.

While he got busy doing something else, I started Googling him. I was curious. I couldn’t find the correct Jules Gutierrez. Then I thought I’d look up “Chuntikis”…and voila! There he was.

There were several articles about him (Julio “Jules” Gutierrez), actually. Chuntikis is a play on the Spanish slang word “chunti,” which is a derogatory term one Hispanic person would use about another. It is kind of like a Caucasian calling another “white trash” or maybe just calling someone “ghetto.” As a first-generation Mexican American, born to Mexican immigrants, Gutierrez wanted to take that negative term and give it a positive spin. He also wanted to honor the heritage of the people of all of Latin America. Chuntikis adds a Latin flavor to tiki—something that has been ignored since tiki began. Since tiki is fantasy, anyway—not based on any single place or culture —why not?

I was very impressed with him and kept asking questions whenever I got the chance. When I was ready for my second drink, instead of the Uma Uma I was planning on ordering (I found out it’s one of the cocktails that will survive the menu makeover that is coming up), I asked Mr. Gutierrez which of the drinks on the drink special menu contained the Secret Milk Punch. He said it wasn’t on the menu. I had to order it specifically from this girl who was selling Chuntikis merch.

I went over and paid for the drink, an Ola Negra (Black Wave). I was handed a swizzle stick with a star on the end. (That was my “drink ticket.”) The drink consists of black sesame-washed Cachaca, blue Curaçao, and the Secret Milk Punch (a clarified tropical milk punch). Wow!

At one point, Mr. Gutierrez went over to the DJ station and gave a little speech about his mission and the evening. This was the first night of a series of one-night Chuntikis takeover pop-ups scheduled throughout California, New Orleans, and Tijuana.

I was curious about his other cocktails. One concoction, Ajua Fresca, was brilliantly served in a plastic bag tied around a straw, as you might actually get a traditional aqua fresca served to you in Mexico. (I was sticking with rum and that drink was tequila-based, so I didn’t try it.)

When it was time for another drink—decisions, decisions—I hemmed and hawed a bit. Should I get one of the Chuntikis or one of the drinks I had in mind from the Kon-Tiki menu that was going away? It was going to be my only chance to try either of them. That solved my problem—I’d have BOTH!

First I went with the soon-to-be axed Saint Lucia’s Fox, a tasty and tart mix of dark rum, coconut cream, passion fruit, orange, and Campari. As I sipped, I realized how fortuitous it had been that I had sat right at Mr. Gutierrez’s “station” at the bar. Here all of these people had come to support his Chuntikis movement, and I was the only oddball who was clueless…and yet I was getting a ringside seat, getting to meet the man himself, while learning about his passion of marrying Latino culture with cocktails.

One story he shared was of a cocktail menu he did for a special occasion. It was Taco Bell themed. One drink incorporated hot sauce. Another, called Guacamole Is Extra, actually used liquified avocado. Wild.

The clock was ticking. I’d wanted to be back on BART by 8pm, before it got dark. It was my personal “last call.” From Mr. Gutierrez’s list, I chose a Cumbia Suenadora, a creation born of rums, cachaca, coconut, passion fruit, pineapple, lemon, and blue Curaçao. At the same time, I ordered a $5 Cheeky Shot. One hundred percent of the price of the shot (made of pisco, oolong, hibiscus, raspberry, and sage) benefitted the AAAHC, Native American Health Center.

As I imbibed on these final libations of the evening and was talking more with Mr. Gutierrez, he gave me a taste of some bitters he created using these small chilies that are only grown in the Sonoran Desert region, which is where his parents were from. Zowie! It had quite the eye-opening kick, but it was pretty dang tasty.

As I was finishing up, I realized I’d be writing about Chuntikis and Mr. Gutierrez. The Kon-Tiki can wait. I’ll be back in California in the fall/winter and will revisit The Kon-Tiki then (after checking it’s Instagram account first). It will give them a chance to get their new menu up and running, if nothing else.

When I was leaving, Mr. Gutierrez was across the room, talking to the DJ. I went over, shook his hand, and told him again how impressed I was with him. It had been another serendipitous tiki adventure—totally unexpected and yet ultimately worth it.

CHEERS!

Visit Chuntikis on Instagram and elsewhere HERE.