Bygone places in Mexico City / Mauna Loa San Jerónimo Restaurant, Polynesian cuisine with live dance performances at your table.
An unforgettable and beloved restaurant — spacious, delicious, extravagant, and wonderfully original — that closed its doors in 2002.
By Alejandro Pohlenz
In the 1970s, I was a teenager when my parents took me for the first time to a most unusual place on San Jerónimo Street. Although I didn’t visit Hawaii until 1981 and had no real reference, the inside of that vast space—with its high palm-thatched roof, waterfall, and dance floors between the tables—left me utterly spellbound.
My jaw dropped even lower when the lights dimmed. Three young dancers, wearing grass skirts and tiny tops, began to sway their hips like Polynesian goddesses (I think I even lost my appetite). Naturally, I don’t remember what the food was like—at that age, I was quite picky anyway. Many critics at the time described Mauna Loa’s dishes as “pseudo-Polynesian.”
The Martinis of Mauna Loa
Time, as always, flowed on flawlessly. While working at Televisa, I often went there with my boss and his entourage. The food remained genuinely good, but the Martinis were absolute perfection. Of course, after lunch, returning to the office was almost impossible—our ideas would dissolve into mist.
Mauna Loa was born in 1950 in the Zona Rosa (I don’t remember that location, as I wasn’t even born yet). Its entrance was shaped like a giant “A,” and they say it had a pond with pink flamingos. Even back then, those mesmerizing Polynesian hip movements were part of the show.
The Move to San Jerónimo
In 1966, a fire destroyed the original Mauna Loa in the Zona Rosa, forcing it to migrate south to San Jerónimo Street, behind a shopping center. I remember there was also a totem inside, and the dancers performed Tahitian routines. (The best tables were the ones right next to the dance floors.)
Going to Mauna Loa—beyond the Martinis and the hypnotic hips—was a true happening. I don’t recall ever being treated poorly, served bad food, or having to wait too long. As you can imagine, I carry deep affection for that Hawaiian refuge in the middle of Mexico City’s noisy, polluted chaos.
It closed in 2002. The reason remains unclear.
Avenida San Jerónimo 240.
Permanently closed.
1 comment
Carlos Chong
Trabaje en Maunaloa avenida sanjeronimo #240 quisiera comunicarme con alguien de mis excompaleros. Estoy en San Luis Potosi.