HAWAIIAN-STYLE BEACH FOOD,
LARGE PORTIONS, AND ANGIE
ROMERO’S WELCOMING SMILE
KEEP 54 YEARS OF TRADITION
ALIVE AND WELL
Words By
ALEX KHATCHADOURIAN
If you grew up in and around the South Bay, or consider yourself a local, then you surely have a Beach Hut memory. It’s likely some version of how you used to wolf down a loco moco and side of Hawaiian French toast after an hours-long surf session with friends, or how it was your family’s go-to spot when craving a homestyle meal but were too tired to make one.
I too have my own version — senior year of high school, I spent many fourth periods dodging campus security to head down to The Beach Hut in Hermosa, picking up my usual “Plate C” and chilling at the beach for lunch.
“Plate C” comes piled with mouthwatering portions of teriyaki chicken and steak, perfectly stir-fried chow fun noodles, two ice cream scoops of sticky rice, a slice of sweet bread, a crispy golden-colored wonton, a veggie eggroll, and their famously simple and delicious green salad. It’s a miracle I ever made it back for fifth period after that lunch.
While the food always plays the main character in the initial memory, Beach Hut’s owner Angie Romero quickly becomes central to the story. I still remember her warm smile each time I walked in as a 17-year-old, and the subtle look she’d give me to suggest I get back to school after handing me my food.
For the last 25 years, Angie has served up some of the best Hawaiian food in the Beach Cities, but more importantly has cultivated a warm and welcoming haven representative of true South Bay culture — casual, communal, and friendly.
It’s been close to 15 years since I’ve been to The Beach Hut, which, for the last 17 years, has been nestled in Vista Plaza off Pacific Coast Highway and Anza in Torrance.
As you approach the entrance, the sweet caramelization aroma indicative of yummy things cooking lures you in. Saturday mornings at Beach Hut are for the regulars — not exclusively, but the atmosphere feels a lot like a neighborhood house party that your auntie is hosting.
A woman gets up from her table and shuffles over to another to chat with a couple that just got their coffee; the morning’s only server, Michael Contreras, rounds the corner from the kitchen and quickly dodges a family friend’s son, Bleu, who is chasing a bouncy ball around the dining tables; Angie seats a dad holding his daughter, who is wearing a princess dress, before asking her where her older sister is.
Angie smiles at me and says to make myself comfortable wherever I would like. As I take a seat at a two-top by the front window, she casually raises the coffee pot in her hand, gesturing if I would like a cup.
On her way to drop off my coffee, she stops at a table diagonal to me, where she jokes and laughs with longtime regular Chad Gautier.
Gautier never needs a menu, and everyone that works there knows that his go-to order is the #5A, an island-style breakfast plate with homemade spicy Portuguese sausage and corned beef hash. He even had his wedding catered by The Beach Hut.
“I started going to Beach Hut in Hermosa in the ’80s, before Angie owned it,” says Gautier. “My brother and I would stop in there after our sailboat competitions. I’ve never stopped coming; I essentially came with the place when Angie bought it, and I have been bothering her ever since.”
FAMILY-OWNED LEGACY
In 1972, Don Yasui opened a humble little Hawaiian joint on Highland Ave in El Porto. The ‘Hut’ quickly became a local touchpoint in the South Bay, and in 1984, Don opened a second location in Hermosa, a block away from Pier Ave, which his son Ron managed.
When Don passed away, Ron took over both locations, but by 2001, he was nearing the end of his tenure.
“We were good friends with the Yasui family, and one day we were just hanging out over at their house, and Ron was saying they were going to sell the restaurants,” recalls Romero. “We casually said, ‘That would be cool if we took it over,’ and two weeks later we owned the Hermosa location.”
Angie and her husband Victor had no restaurant experience, hadn’t run their own small business before, and weren’t keen to the seasonal ebbs and flows of the local market.
But Angie grew up in a Filipino and French family in Gardena, where daily life revolved around the food she prepared with her grandma and extended family, and sharing it with their neighbors and community.
“Growing up cooking with my Grandma was cool and I figured this would just be cooking and being around people,” says Romero. “That’s my vibe. I just want people to come in and feel like they are family, and are sitting amongst their family and friends.”
Ron spent all of an hour briefly showing Angie and Frank where things were in the Hermosa space, who to buy certain ingredients from, and a couple other basic functions before handing over the keys and never being seen at that location again.
He spent nine more years running the El Porto location before he closed up for good in 2010.
During the first few months of business, Angie learned on the fly. She watched seasoned chefs Saul and Nina, who she recruited from the El Porto location, prepare the classics for the steady stream of regulars.
Despite having taken a major financial leap buying an uncertain business, starting over at age 30 in an industry she didn’t know, and all while parenting three young kids (the youngest only two-and-a-half), Angie was determined to build on the legacy the Yasui family handed her, focused on the same recipes and same family-owned vibe.
YOU’RE HERE, YOU’RE FAMILY
Sipping my coffee, I see a mom with her two sons walk in and take a seat at a table. Within seconds, Angie is giving the woman a hug and asking the boys how they’ve been.
Michael, who has been serving tables at the restaurant for about a year, smiles in their direction and then takes my order. Plate C, of course.
Michael quickly heads over to the woman, who is clearly his wife with his sons, and welcomes her with a warm embrace.
Another family, sitting at the table next to me, is in matching black Beach Hut gear, and I can overhear one of them saying to Michael, “I know it’s off menu, but can you see if they have any extra they can use to make it for me?”
At the table is Angie’s family: her husband Victor, her daughter’s mother-in-law Lila, and grandmother-in-law Sandy, her daughter’s best friend Ashley and her son, Bleu.
“Angie is like a second mom to me; the first time I met her, she immediately invited me over to their house to hang out and have a meal,” says Ashley Kamidoi. “Vivi [Angie’s daughter] and I were always at the restaurant starting around six years old. Everybody would come in with their flip-flops, shorts, and surfboards, feet still sandy.
“It was never a regular restaurant where people just come in to eat and leave. You come in here, and honestly, you make a lot of friends and family. It’s what keeps you coming back.”
Angie and The Beach Hut remained at their Hermosa location for nine years until the money-hungry, culture-killing commercial real estate companies that plague the Beach Cities priced her out of the space, raising rent well over 25% in a couple of years.
The road to relocation was rough — steep rents, spots with little to no seating, and properties that didn’t want a restaurant to come in. Eventually her community pulled through, and a friend introduced her to the family that owns the complex she still slings Hawaiian eats from today.
Another regular, Leesa Lahua, walks in and is immediately greeted by Angie with a, “You’re late!” and a smile. The two hug before Leesa starts chit-chatting with everyone at Angie’s family’s table.
Leesa takes a seat at her own table, browsing the menu as if she’ll stray from her usual “Royal Hawaiian.”
“I started going to The Beach Hut in El Porto as a kid growing up in Manhattan Beach,” says Leesa. “I moved to Hermosa and would go to that location for years and then it disappeared. I finally found Angie here and was so happy!”
Customer turned close friend, Leesa stops into the restaurant once or twice a week, attends Angie’s family parties, helps out with fundraising events that Angie and The Beach Hut sponsor, and even has Angie pop up at her husband’s softball games to sell food.
“This place is like home. Angie is so welcoming and loving, and can make anyone feel like family,” says Lehua. “Her generosity towards her customers and the community is unmatched. From feeding the unhoused man that hangs out around here to fundraising for breast cancer to helping out a local single mom in need, Angie always has the community’s back and is willing to give in the ways she can.”
The story of The Beach Hut is as much Angie’s as it is her community’s and that of her regulars. Together they have helped keep the spirit of the South Bay alive, and have made stepping into this local eatery like spending the morning around the dining table with family and friends.
“A lot of times, I just think we need people,” says Angie. “Sometimes you just need somebody to listen and care. There’s not a lot of that out there anymore, you know. I want people to know that here, we see you, we care about you, and we are going to feed you.”