60 recipes inspired by the history of tiki as well as the modern revival that's putting a fresh spin on tropical tiki drinks--all simplified for the home bartender from cocktail authority PUNCH. Tiki is the dream of escape, a tropical vacation complete with warm ocean water, island music, and beachside dinners. Kicking back with a tiki cocktail may be the epitome of easy living, but ironically, tiki drinks are among the hardest to make, often requiring eight or more ingredients. Now Easy Tiki is here to solve that problem! Easy Tiki examines the modern tiki revival offering sixty transporting recipes that re-jigger the classics with minimal ingredients while still maintaining the delicious balance, spices, and stunning garnishes that define tiki cocktails. Drinks include classics such as the Beachcomber's Gold and Fog Cutter and modern cocktails such as Elusive Dreams and Paradise Lost. Easy Tiki also includes an overview of the origins of the tiki genre, from Don the Beachcomber and the mid-century tiki craze to Trader Vic's and beyond. With Easy Tiki it's easier than ever before to sit back with a Mai Tai or Pearl Diver and enjoy the island life--wherever you are. Chloe Frechette is the senior editor at PUNCH and regularly contributes articles on tiki and cocktail culture. She has a master's degree in history of design from the Royal College of Art, where she earned distinction for her research on the material culture of cocktail consumption. Spiros Halaris is a multi-disciplinary, award-winning illustrator. His signature aesthetic is distinguished by its eye-catching colors, sophistication, and playfulness, and has the ability to capture the spirit of every subject and give it a new dazzling, elegant form. For the past ten years he has been creating illustrative and typographic solutions for an international and diverse clientele including Lancôme, Bergdorf Goodman, Sephora, Harrods, Vogue , the New York Times, and Architectural Digest . PUNCH  is a James Beard Award–winning media brand dedicated to drinks and drinking culture. Welcome to Easy Tiki Fresh on the heels of repeal, a man by the name of Donn Beach (aka Don the Beachcomber) introduced a style of drinking so flamboyant and conspicuous that it was unimaginable to a Hollywood public accustomed to the secrecy of the speakeasy. All the devices that had acted in service of discreetness during the thirteen-year “noble experiment” were flipped on their heads. Coffee cups concealing their true contents were traded for hollowed-out pineapples containing a staggering blend of rums, tropical flavors, and spices and crowned with orchids, mint, and mango leaves; the hidden entrance was replaced with a carved bamboo-andrattan gate announcing the threshold of another world. Inside, driftwood décor, tropical plants, and the manufactured sound of rainfall signaled an exotic escape from the Depression-era reality on the other side of the entryway. It was the beginning of a movement that would come to be known as tiki. A cursory glance at the offerings of homewares retailers and fashion labels both high and low, as well as, of course, new bars opening across the country, makes glaringly apparent one fact: we’re in the midst of the second golden age of tiki. Not since its midcentury heyday has tiki’s faux-island atmosphere made such a broad sweep across the country. And with tropical-themed bars opening at a rate that’s hard to keep up with, tiki’s momentum shows no signs of slowing. Indeed, it’s difficult to deny the appeal of the genre’s aesthetic. At times when headlines seem to offer nothing but an onslaught of disheartening information, the purposefully escapist nature of the tiki bar—no TVs, no windows—is an apt antidote. But for a category whose appeal hinges on the impression of “the easy life,” tiki drinks are among the hardest to make, often calling for upward of ten ingredients and a host of specialized techniques and tools, not to mention elaborate, over-the-top garnishes. The Zombie, for example, calls for between nine and eleven ingredients (depending on whether you make the 1934 version or the 1956 version), while the QB Cooler calls for ten, and the Kikuya Lapu for twelve. Of course, it takes more than a laundry list of ingredients or tropical flavors to label a drink “tiki.” Decidedly untropical cocktails can climb toward ten ingredients without qualifying, while the Mai Tai, perhaps tiki’s most iconic output, clocks in at a mere five. The transportive power of its simple construction hints at a more abstract set of criteria required to earn the “tiki” label, beyond the “more is more” approach that characterizes much of the category. Chief among them is the ability for a cocktail to conjure another world through its composition, presentation, and name. Missionary’s Downfall and Cobra’s Fang, for example, are far more evocative than pineapple sour and tropical rum punch. As you’ll see throughout this book, it’s possi