Meet the Founder

Adesh

Founder · Seer

Adesh is the founder of a high-end kava lounge on Maui’s North Shore, in the surf town of Paia. The concept is rooted in 1930s Tiki-era bars — old recipes remade with kava instead of rum, channeling Don the Beachcomber, Beach Bum Berry, and Trader Vic into an entirely new craft.

The result is nautical island-Tiki chic decor, tropical flavors built on high-quality ingredients, and beautiful glassware — but beyond the aesthetic, something deeper comes through. A strong reverence for the cultural use and spiritual potency of kava is just as much of the experience as the drinks themselves.

Before Maui, Adesh opened two kava bars in San Diego and has been in the industry for over 15 years. There is something profoundly healing and magical about the kava plant — each bar becomes a spiritual vortex where the plant guides, teaches, and heals as people surrender into relaxation, contentment, and meaningful connection with the kava ohana.

Intuition runs in her family — honed by years of meditation and spiritual practice. For Adesh it shows up with real insight and direction: an animal that appears with a strong warning, a dream that arrives with insight, a knowing she’s learned to trust. The bar is her way of sharing that — a place to slow down enough to notice the signs that have been there all along.

At the heart of it all is the spirit of ‘awa — a plant that wants to heal the world. Adesh sees herself as a steward of that work, holding space for the bar as a modern wateringhole for the conscious and the seekers — a place to gather, slow down, and remember.

Let spirit guide you to where the ocean meets the jungle, and the kava is poured with intention. 🌺

As Featured In

Fox 5 San Diego · San Diego Union Tribune · Yoga Alliance RYT-200

Messages from the Wild

How nature named the bar

The name came during a deep meditation in the pine forest at Olinda. Clear, direct: ‘Aumakua.

Honestly? It scared her. The name carries real weight in Hawaiian culture. The trepidation of offending people was heavy. Driving out of the forest, still wrestling with it, two owls flew directly overhead. That didn’t make the fear go away — but it gave her the courage to trust the guidance instead of running from it.

Back home, she researched to make sure she understood what she was stepping into. At the very end of the article, the third sign: the highest offering one can give to show reverence for one’s ‘Aumakua is kava — ‘awa in Hawaii. That settled it.

This bar was never about Adesh. It’s about holding space — for the ancestors, for the plant, for the people who walk through the door. A place where kava does what it’s always done: opens people up, slows them down, and helps them remember. Remember their relations, their lineage, the messages that are coming through all the time if we’re willing to listen.

More than ever, we need that. We need to be in community. We need plant medicine that actually brings us together instead of numbing us out. We need spaces that are conduits for something real. That’s what this bar is. That’s why it exists.

“The owls were the first messengers. The kava was the confirmation.”