Do birthdays matter? Not really. But they are, at the very least, an excuse to do something you might not usually do as a middle-aged father of two. On a recent Saturday in September, one writer’s birthday became the ideal catalyst to drag an assortment of friendship flotsam across the Los Angeles coastline, working their way down through a carefully curated selection of Southern California beach dive bars. For the second time, this assignment for regional food and drink publications served to rationalize, or perhaps subsidize, a birthday bar crawl. The underlying philosophy was simple: these old, salt-crusted pubs represent an essential, last-remaining stronghold of regional culture, demanding both community respect and financial support.
The crawl spanned an afternoon and evening, filled with drinks and snacks—though predominantly consisting of bites of legendary bar burgers—starting in Santa Monica and weaving down to Manhattan Beach before wandering inland for a late-night Japanese dinner in Torrance, home to some of the finest Japanese cuisine in the United States.
The strategy was to start relatively early, soaking in as much sunlit ocean breeze as possible while safeguarding a normal amount of sleep at the end of the night before waking up at traditional dad hours. The beauty of a structured bar crawl is its fluid nature, allowing participants to jump on and off the moving train as personal schedules and inclinations permit. Embracing a brisk itinerary, the group moved quickly from place to place, unbothered by who showed up where and when, simply relying on group chat updates and estimated times of arrival to manage the floating roster of friends and family.
Stop 1: Chez Jay — Santa Monica — 3:25 p.m.
Opened in 1959, and situated roughly an eight-minute walk from the ocean, Chez Jay has remained a steadfast refuge in a city that has rapidly priced out old neighborhood bars and restaurants. It stands as a classic establishment where patrons can order a martini or a beer, governed by a couple of whimsical rules: “take no pictures, and throw your peanut shells on the floor.” Though one rule was playfully broken, the spirit of the place remained intact.
The kitchen had not yet opened for the evening, but the roasted peanuts were plentiful and the pours were heavy. The interior, defined by red booths and red checkerboard tablecloths, evokes the aesthetic of an old Italian restaurant, though Chez Jay is fundamentally a steak-and-seafood kind of place for dinner. The crawl started strong with six people in attendance, including the birthday writer’s father and stepmom, setting a high bar for the afternoon ahead.
Stop 2: Hinano Cafe — Venice Beach — 4:38 p.m.
Operating continuously on a bustling stretch of Venice Beach since 1962, Hinano Cafe has long established itself as an iconic surfer hangout serving beer and burgers. Operating without a full liquor license, the perpetually packed establishment maintains true surfer-bar credentials by serving breakfast from 8 a.m. until noon.
As the group arrived at the second location, the headcount swelled with additional friends. Pitchers of beer were poured in a standing-room-only setting, surrounded by board-short-wearing day drinkers who were significantly younger and more vibrant than the gaggle of graying dads. The group paused just long enough to order and split a hamburger. Priced at $12.50, the perfectly acceptable bar burger served on a sesame seed bun provided a pleasant edible intermezzo, leaving the impression that a return visit during a different era—perhaps 1975—might offer an equally charming experience.
Stop 3: Prince O’ Whales — Playa del Rey — 5:30 p.m.
Having crossed the marina—historically acting as a traffic-dividing line in Los Angeles County—the group settled into a cluster of three classic bars situated within a mere 0.2-mile stretch of this hidden, working-class Los Angeles beach community. By late afternoon, the sun had begun its descent, and the cooling ocean breeze helped relax tired shoulders, though the accumulated beverages likely played a role as well.
The group sauntered into Prince O’ Whales, which has been pouring drinks under its current moniker for over five decades, following an 18-year run under its previous name, The Bowsprit. Featuring two indoor bars—though one remained shuttered for the afternoon—the saloon welcomed patrons with a bartender possessing the exact brand of amiable gruffness expected in a sailor’s tavern. The main room buzzed with a loud crowd engrossed in college football, prompting a quiet realization regarding the aging process of the attendees. Escaping to the back patio, the group found a serene patch of cement, brick, faded paint, and sun-withered wood complete with a ping-pong table, all bathed in the quintessential late-summer weather that defines Southern California coastal living.
Stop 4: The Harbor Room — Playa del Rey — 6:01 p.m.
Following a brief 90-second walk, the group arrived at a destination affectionately known as "the smallest dive bar in Los Angeles." The intimate space evokes the feel of a California-themed yokocho alleyway in Tokyo, save for its deeply lived-in interior lined with old wood that mirrors the bowels of a turn-of-the-century vessel crossing the Atlantic.
A friendly, intoxicated stranger quickly integrated into the group, peppering them with questions. Drink orders encountered a minor miscommunication when a requested vodka-soda turned into a gin and tonic, which was swiftly corrected by ordering a gin martini. The martini arrived accompanied by an unusual "sidecar"—literally a rocks glass containing a splash of rapidly warming gin. Wandering curiously into the adjoining Italian restaurant, the writer was persuaded by friendly staff to order food. Selecting their favorite dish yielded a steaming foil container of hot ravioli delivered straight to the table shortly before the martini was finished. The timeless atmosphere prompted quiet musings about the longevity and comfort found within these neighborhood barstools.
Stop 5: The Shack — Playa del Rey — 6:27 p.m.
A review of smartphone photo timestamps revealed the remarkable efficiency of consuming a round of martinis and a plate of ravioli in a mere 26 minutes. Pushing forward, the group made an even shorter walk to their next destination: The Shack, a classic surf bar and restaurant featuring an ideal balance of authentic wear and tear.
Considerably more spacious than the previous stop, The Shack offered available seating at the bar. The group ordered the signature Shack Burger for everyone to sample, alongside an order of wings. The famous burger arrives with a unique culinary touch: a butterflied Louisiana hot link resting directly on the patty, functioning essentially as a juicier, snappier, and spicier alternative to bacon. The milestone of consuming five or six drinks over the course of the afternoon served as an unexpected test of endurance that the participants passed with flying colors.
Stop 6: Ercole’s — Manhattan Beach — 7:23 p.m.
Nearing its centennial anniversary—having opened its doors during Prohibition, though not always operating as a bar—Ercole’s could easily serve as the anchor of any coastal crawl. Widely regarded among locals as the home of the best dive bar burger in LA County, this defiant establishment has successfully withstood decades of escalating real estate prices to remain a steadfast neighborhood joint.
Serving as a sacred escape from the wealth surrounding the upscale beach community, Ercole’s interior is constructed largely of wood and vintage beer signs. The establishment maintains separate lines for ordering drinks and accessing the restroom, while a diverse mix of patrons—ranging from gray-haired residents in Hawaiian shirts to tattooed bikers—clearly appreciates the historic venue. In the corner behind the bar sits a small grill positioned beneath a prominent yellow sign proudly declaring “no fries.”
The cheeseburger represents an exercise in simple chargrilled perfection, utilizing meat sourced directly from the neighboring butcher shop and served in a basket alongside a bag of potato chips. Although the menu also lists a teriyaki chicken sandwich, few patrons have ever witnessed it being ordered. Pressed for time, the group made a swift exit, calling ahead to the final dining destination to report a minor delay.
Stop 7: Torihei — Torrance — 8:00 p.m. onwards
Having maintained a balanced approach of snacking rather than heavy eating throughout the beach dive crawl, the group settled into a long table adorned with sake and beer at Torihei in Torrance. For a weary group of afternoon drinkers, few culinary offerings could match the comfort of Torihei’s simmered slab of daikon radish, served in a rich dashi broth and blanketed in katsuobushi flakes of smoked, dried skipjack tuna.
The classic izakaya, specializing in yakitori grilled chicken skewers and oden simmered dishes, provided a welcoming atmosphere. The group sipped beers, crunched on tender chicken cartilage, and sampled grilled chicken meatballs before concluding the evening with bowls of soborodon, a comforting dish of ground chicken and rice.
Having navigated a comprehensive coastal journey blending historic dive culture and late-night dining, the birthday itinerary concluded successfully with a safe return home, a shower, and bed well before 11:15 p.m.