Losing in Las Vegas is a relatable scenario for many of Hawaii’s Ninth Island visitors. My first planned three day, two night adventure there turned into a day and a night stay after my then-boyfriend and I lost all the money we dared to lose in the casino.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, and I agreed, braving the road again back to California in the Pinto, borrowed from one of his friends, which had already broken down twice during the desert drive to Nevada. (I didn’t worry about it because my boyfriend was known as “the MacGyver of Hawaii,” able to fix and repair his way out of any jam, the kind of person who would help you survive a zombie apocalypse.)

Unlike us, a group of friends Chase Brown, C.J. Lazaro, Jon Windham and Wynn Takahashi — who call themselves “The Lost Boys” — would head to Palace Station’s Oyster Bar around 2 or 3 a.m. to commiserate and buoy their confidence for another day of gambling. There, they ended up slurping up the bar’s comforting pan roasts, Cajun-Creole-style seafood stews. After a while, they wondered whether they were going to Vegas to gamble or eat pan roasts.

“When we came home, we always missed it, and when we ate it, we’d be happy again,” Brown said.

So the four friends gambled on the notion that thousands of Hawaii’s Vegas regulars felt the same way, and Hook’d Panroast was born. The new restaurant opened its doors last month, where Chingu used to be, to a packed house of the curious and those familiar with the Vegas phenom.

Those familiar with pan roasts whom I spoke to had their criticisms, like, “The seasonings don’t have the same intensity,” “the one in Vegas is more creamy.” But for someone like me, who isn’t familiar with the Palace Station version, it is like a perfect thick, rich tomato bisque with shellfish and sausages, and Cajun accents that are a big plus.

An early reference to pan roast came in a 1901 edition of The Picayune’s Creole Cook Book, as a vehicle for serving up oysters that were plentiful and popular in the Crescent City. Back then, “the largest and finest oysters” were simply roasted in butter with chopped parsley and seasoned with salt, pepper and lemon to taste. Over time, pan roasts evolved as the Creole version of bouillabaisse that had arrived with French settlers in the early 18th century.

Today, I haven’t seen the pan roast on any list of Louisiana’s most iconic dishes, but it somehow crossed the country to become an icon at Las Vegas oyster bars, and it’s now crossed the ocean, and I have no doubt the dish will take root here.

First timers might want to reserve a seat at the restaurant counter for a view of the process in which your seafood of choice and chopped green bell peppers are heated in a steel-clad steam kettles bolted to the counter-top. Next, a tomato base flavored with Creole spices, Old Bay seasoning and celery seed is added and the contents allowed to stew before a lever is pulled forward, like a slot machine, to pour the stew directly into an awaiting bowl.

Diners can choose from eight pan roasts and combos starting with all clams ($22), all scallops ($24), all shrimp ($24) or lobster ($27). A seafood combo features shrimp, clams, lump crab meat and scallops for $29. The Hook’d combo has shrimp, crab meat, scallops and Portuguese sausage ($29). The Wild Ones Combo for two or more is full of shrimp, crab meat, clams, scallops, Portuguese sausage and lup cheong, plus lobster ($65).

Because I like variety, I prefer sharing a pan roast with another person and adding on appetizers to round out a meal, but a glance around the room reveals that most people seem to prefer savoring an entire pan roast themselves.

You can also customize your own pan roast by starting with one filled with your favorite ingredient and adding on other shellfish and sausages at $5 for shrimp, clams or scallops, and $3 for Portuguese sausage, lup cheong or arabiki sausage.

Appetizers are fairly heavy, so you can build a meal around some of these once you’ve had your fill of pan roasts since the base is the same. Only the spice level varies from mild, which still packs a Cajun kick, to medium, to spicy to “wild.” I’ve only ventured as far as medium, which delivers a comfortable level of heat without scorching the tongue. I can’t imagine what “wild” would be like.

My favorites of the appetizers are the Caesar salad ($10) with garlic toast croutons, homestyle kamaboko dip ($12), a grilled cheese sandwich served with pan roast base for dipping ($12) and the pair of meaty lobster sliders with slaw on taro buns ($25).

Steamed clams ($15) can also be good, depending on the clams available week to week. I’ve been there when they were plump and juicy, and when they’ve been microscopic. Even when tiny, the flavor is good and they’re tossed with plenty of sausages. I’ve tossed some of the excess into my pan roast for a richer experience.

You can enjoy it with domestic beers and basic whiskeys and tequila. In terms of parking, there are only four stalls in front of the restaurant and weekday street parking doesn’t open until 6:30 p.m., so plan accordingly.

Hook’d Pan Roast

1035 Kapiolani Blvd., Honolulu
Food: ***½
Service: ***½
Ambiance: ***
Value: ***
Call: 808-698-7677
Hours: 5-10 p.m. Mondays-Thursdays, 5 p.m.-midnight Fridays-Saturdays, and 10 a.m.-10 p.m. Sunday
Prices: About $70-$80 for two without alcohol

Nadine Kam’s restaurant visits are unannounced and paid for by Honolulu Star-Advertiser. Follow Nadine on Instagram (@nadinekam) or on YouTube (youtube.com/nadinekam).