by Aileen C. on Came here last night (on a Tuesday). The place was much more relaxed and less pretentious as most reviewers mentioned. The hostess and our server were really polite and the manager came by to make sure my date and I were doing OK. Appetizer: My date and I ordered the Kobe sliders which come in a plate of 3. They were good, but not great. But here's where I love XIV's stellar customer service... My date isn't a fan of lots of junk in his burgers (cheese, lettuce, etc.). He's a simple kind of guy and likes his burgers plain. He asked our server if he could just have one Kobe slider without all the fixings "just to taste" because he didn't realize that it would be smothered with stuff. Our server easily said "no problem". Minutes later, our server brought out another plate of 3 Kobe sliders - all without the fixings. My date only asked for one, but the chef decided to just give us another order of which we didn't pay for. Now, I LOVE this place. Entree: I ordered the snapper and it was amazingly delicious. It was lightly breaded, the fish was very moist, and it wasn't drowning in sauce. It was perfectly balanced. The sticky rice underneath was tasty as well. The portion was enough that I couldn't finish 1/4 of my plate. My date ordered the seared ahi - I can't comment on it because I didn't try it but he said it was good. Sides: We ordered 2 - mashed potatoes and the truffle mac 'n cheese. We hardly ate it because we enjoyed our entree so much that there just wasn't enough room to stuff our bellies. The mash was flavorful and light - pretty darn good. The truffle mac 'n cheese was too watery for me - I still think the truffle mac 'n cheese at The Edison beats XIV by a landslide (Mr. Mina - take note of this) so head there instead if you're craving comfort foods. *Disclaimer: My date and I may have had a better experience (especially in service and accommodating us with those Kobe sliders) than most because I hold the Holy Grail of "don't you know who I am?" hookups. I hold an SBE preferred member card which gives me perks. I may not be Jesus, but I flash my card and they ask me to walk on water.
by Robert B. on I've never had a great experience here, but the latest was a new low. The waitress delivered a plate of hummus meant for our table to a different table nearby. When we asked about our order, she discovered her error, then she took the plate from the other table and brought it over to ours... even though the people at that table had already eaten half of it! When we complained, she noted that we knew the customers at the other table (we did) and so it was no biggie since we were all friends. She was not joking, and she never brought us a new order. Pretty pathetic.
by Eddy Berley on I wake up wanting a drink. Not DTs-want one, but If I Could Just Lay Here And Pull From Costco-Size Bottles Of Stoli & Ruby Red All Day, I Totally Would-want. By the time I walk past the tools on Market St. setting up el Dianeticos table, my day barely started, I already want out. Clearly this is all a big misunderstanding. I shouldn't even be here. Then the day stinks and I go home, still wanting a drink. All said, even if Martuni's were on my merry shamble home, I wouldn't stop in with any frequency. This is the joint that others suggest we go to and I follow. There is nothing wrong with Martuni's. It is camp. It is fabulous. I saw the piano player do the trumpet solo on Can't Take My Eye's Off You with one hand whilst tinkling the ivories with the other. Not douchey pretend mouth trumpet either, the Herb Alpert kind. I was agog! I also like drippy, girly frou-frou, twee popsicle drinks. They're fabulous too. As are barmen in crisp white shirts. Fizabbleous. Nice lay-out. Not a bad crowd either. If I have to hang out with people who are richer than me, I just really don't want them to be straight. At all costs. And Martuni's delivers. While high in sausage, at least it isn't the Upscale Douche Dudery that one can often find oneself in, here in the Metrop. It just isn't ME. $8 drinks, not me. Liza Minelli, so, way not me. A place I find respectable, welcoming and mostly pleasing to my aesthetics, just not the baser (read: important) ones. One special place Martuni's WILL keep in my heart is by way of my first Rateclub event being there. Having only minutes before met New Best Friend Ed M. I spies the lovely Stormi. Sez I, "Hey you're Stormi aren'tcha?" with which I introduce myself. Then Ed procedes to tell Stormi and I tales of the size, mass, width and other sundries about his stool. How it had been SUPER busy these last few sickdays, and of the mischief, mayhem and murder it had been doing to him. Bad scat! Bad! I felt for the guy. Really, I did. Even after Stormi did what any Lady would in that situation. She fucking bailed. Leaving Ed and I to talk of his poopy. First time I've ever been stool-blocked. UPDATE 02/20/07: StoolblockED. Totally apropos.
