RIGHT off the bat, I was suspicious. I looked behind the bar and could see no blender. And my First Rule of the Tiki Bar is: always look to the blender first.

Seriously, there are a few things you probably ought to invest in if you're going to slap the words "tiki bar" on your drinking establishment, and one of those things is a blender. Before you buy grass thatching for over the bar, before you scour eBay for a copy of Elvis' Aloha From Hawaii album, before you unpack those brightly coloured cocktail glasses carved to look like the stern head of a Tongan fertility god; before all that, you take yourself down to John Lewis and you get yourself the industrial-sized blender.

A "mixed" margarita is not a margarita at all, it's a salt-rimmed glass holding some slopped-together tequila and mixers. Freeze it! Blend it!

However I was willing to look past this, as befits my Second Rule of the Tiki Bar: ply me with enough rum and I'll forget all about the blender.

And, even though they've chosen to go sans blender, the people behind Bad Juju Tiki Bar have put together quite a rums-aplenty cocktail menu.

I'll admit, I'd been a bit nervous when I saw the "Bad Juju" sign going up over what had, until just days before, been Muse. The latter had nestled perfectly into Broad Street, the Bohemian heart of Hockley. Muse struck the right note in that part of town.

A place slathered in fruity drink specials and faux-Honolulu tat (not one but two Pacific-themed murals adorn the main bar's walls) would not, I worried, keep with that vibe.

That worry was misplaced. This might be a tiki bar, but it's not the sort of place that looks like it'll have a sign out front offering something like "2-for-1 tequila slammerz" any time soon.

Which leads me to my Third Rule of the Tiki Bar: mix me a proper cocktail and I will happily pay for it. The Bad Juju drinks menu is not cheap. That's not to say it's bad value; it's just made up of cocktails, and proper cocktails are going to set you back a bit more. The low-end cocktails checked in at around £4.50, with most in the £5.50 to £7.50 range. I went with a £7 Trader Vic's Mai Tai – one of two Mai Tais on the menu – that, because it was before 8pm, only set me back a fiver (all drinks £2 off before eight, the barman said). My drink came in a pea-green glass carved to look like a Pacific island god displeased by my presence.

Much of the furniture looks to be held over from Muse. Low-slung brown leather 70s-retro sofas and chairs dominate, along with a pair of lovely tiled tables that look a bit more Marrakech than Maui. Seeking more of a tropical vibe, I aimed for the front window where wicker chairs and a loveseat benefited from hula girl-patterned cushions and Elvis-in-Hawaii pillows. Stay classy, Hockley.

Sat in the shadow of the Broadway, enjoying a profoundly tasty cocktail, I stopped worrying about this place striking a discordant note on Broad Street. It wears its "tiki bar" theme loosely, with a wink and a nudge. And it offers quality, not gimmicks. One good bar has been replaced by another.

But seriously, Juju-istas – you've got four months until the (fingers crossed) boiling depths of summer. Still plenty of time to invest in that blender.