by Smitcha B. on Valet is $10. Street parking is slim and read the street signs carefully. A ticket can cost you up to almost $70, no joke. Remember, you're on the West side of town and the city is broke. When you first arrive, you're not sure which door takes you where. If you're standing directly in front of the place, you can enter the main door on the left of the XIV shaped bush. If you head right and turn the corner, there will be an inconspicuous door to your left that can also lead you to the dining area but it's not marked. If you walk further that way, you'll hit their bar/lounge area. I recall coming here once, before it became XIV it was a night club. When you enter the restaurant, you feel like you have been transported to another place. It definitely had that Vegas vibe as if you were eating at the Wynn/Encore hotel. It's really loud inside and they have the music on blast. Tons of good looking women dressed in skimpy short skirts or dresses and men rocking the blazers with douchey designer tees underneath. I'd consider this enviroment, "new money." Came here during the DineLA week so I stuck with the prefixed menu for $44. Started off with the Ahi Tuna Tartare which was accompanied by some fresh pieces of toast. I only wished the ahi tuna was slightly chilled since the toast comes out warm. Out of all the appetizer options, this was probably the better one. By the way, the individually served table bread you receive with the sweet yogurt is amazing. Slightly oily but the combination of that and with the dip makes it hard to put down. Good thing they only give you a little bit because I could've easily done some more damage. For my main course, I went with the Guiness Braised Shortrib. Hands down, this was the unanimous winner of the entrees selection. When your knife touches the meat, it shreds through like a hot knife to butter. The shortrib melts with every bite and the sauce is awesome. The King Crab Risotto entree wasn't too fulfilling and seemed a bit bland. As for the Japanese Jidori Chicken, my table mate wasn't a fan. I do recall the mac n cheese that came with the chicken was super salty. We also had the side order of truffle mac n cheese to share. Although it was perfectly cooked, this side order is nothing to rave about. They forgot about this order and we had to ask for it twice but they apologized and gave it to us on the house. Good job XIV, nice save. For dessert, the options were the root beer float accompanied by two freshly cooked and warm chocolate chip cookies. Hard to mess up but I have to say that the cookies hit the spot more so than the root beet float. They seemed like they just came out of the oven; the chocolate was still oozing. The other dessert option was the bourbon glaze doughnuts with a small scoop of banana ice cream. These little tiny dougnnut holes are like regular ones you normally buy at the shop except they're injected with steroids. These little Napoleon complex doughnuts are quite doughy but the glaze on top of it is out of this world. It may not seem like you're getting much but with all that packed dough, it's hard to conquer. The overall experience was alright. Be prepared to spend some cheddar for your meal here. You definitely want to get a bit dressed up for the place and bring a little pretentious attitude to XIV. Fake the funk a little fellas and you may find yourself talking to one of the many attractive young ladies that hang out at this place. Our waitress was very friendly and sweet. Thanks Gloria for the great service.
by Chante Christello on Good music, fun 20's theme, and sexy atmosphere - with the bonus of a slide entrance if your feeling saucy. BUT the bouncers insist on only letting females into the exclusive doors of Slide and it makes for a dance floor crowded with high heels and hairspray. Consider yourself the luckiest man alive if you make it past the velvet ropes and can enjoy the estrogen environment below. If the male-female ratio was balanced, time spent at slide would be much more enjoyable - until then, save Slide for your Bachelorete parties and all Girl Night outings!
by Herra Chink y. on Maybe if I lived in "Nopa". Maybe if I grew up in Orinda. Maybe if I worked at Yahoo. Maybe if I was 40 years old and wished I was 20. Maybe if I didn't value quality. Maybe if I liked throwing my money away on overpriced drinks. Maybe if I went to places only to be seen. Maybe if I wore a nicer watch. Maybe if I owned an iPhone. Maybe if I liked being harassed by surly doormen. Maybe if I enjoyed open judgment by huffy waitresses. Maybe if I liked flies buzzing around my head. Maybe if I read 7X7 or San Francisco Magazine. Maybe if I shopped at Barney's or Bloomingdale's. Maybe if I had an allegiance to Greek letters. Maybe if I've ever thought if I was "Carrie" or "Charlotte"? Maybe if I weighed 150 pounds less. Maybe if I was bulimic. Maybe if I was blond. Maybe if I was white. Maybe if I wasn't desperately searching for authenticity in my remarkably lifestyle-branded world. Maybe if I woke up everyday scared that I was throwing my life away. Maybe if I was living a lie. Maybe if I was the plethora of people who live in miserable personal relationships and seek meaning in life by over-enhancing their outer self rather than working on their inner health while pining away on superficial endeavors and never really realizing that the life they live will never be the life they want unless they learn to openly and honestly talk to themselves about who they are and who they want to be and how to make themselves better people and how to live life productively and passionately, but rather than tough inner reflection they prefer to pine over false Prince Charmings and True Religion jeans over overpriced food from a menu straight out of 1983. Maybe then would I consider it okay to even step foot again inside this offensively garish ornamental establishment, "Le Cloob". Maybe. Or maybe not.
