The table we ate at is the one in the background.It's a short week with mother's day preperations and all, so Sporty and I went out on a Tuesday to see what the buzz was with the spot on the other corner across from the lackluster Thrive, the men's magazine inspired Maxim Prime. It's in the Glenn Hotel, a place I've never stayed, and takes the space that was formerly occupied by the short lived Bed restaurant. Sporty and I went there ages ago and found the idea of eating while lying down...at least in those surroundings...a less than joyous affair. No matter, Maxim is supposed to be something new.
I got there early and hit the bar.. and it was smoking hot. Dark and intimate, the glass topped bar and the diamond motif ceiling are sweet, and when Sporty bounced in a red thigh high dress looking all scrumptious, I think that for a second we even considered sitting down there to eat. I was that nice. But we came to see the whole place, get the Maxim vibe, so we headed up stairs.
I want to note there are supposed to be these thoughts, phrases... "maxims" if you will, in the stairwell, but the whole effect suffers because all the fonts are the same, so you can't tell where one stops and the next starts. I tried for a few minutes and could only make out one. It's a bad effect that different fonts (a simple change) could have fixed.
The room is just as I remember it, long and with a feeling that lacks softness. We get seated next to a large loud party, but we make the best of it. Table service is quick, actual wait service is so-so. Sporty is a little upset because she was thought it would be more..festive, instead it's upscale. I'm upset because I think our waitress might be a man. I expect more from Maxim, jeez, I actually used to read this magazine. Where are the uber hot bimbos? Whatever, we get the Kobe sliders to start, which are yummy, and she gets the short ribs and me the 6 oz. filet.
Did I tell you she looked absolutely beautiful in this dress. She doesn't wear dresses that often, she's still got some tomboy in her, but when she does .....whew!
So we get the food and well, my steak and the sauce were okay, the truffled fries were okay even. Her short ribs were fatty. Maxim shouldn't feel bad, as South City Kitchen's short ribs were fatty as well, but I doubt this fatty. They gave her three ribs...she ate one, picked over one, left one.
Her words: "I guess this one is a strike."
I read up on Maxim after I got back and there is a quote from one of the people pushing it who said "This restaurant will not be another Hooters!" Well I've been to both, and they might want to reconsider. Say what you want, but Hooters been in business more than a minute. The downstairs bar was great, the rest of the restaurant...so-so. Not to mention expensive.
Barkeep...no more of the sparkling water. Seriously.
I got there early and hit the bar.. and it was smoking hot. Dark and intimate, the glass topped bar and the diamond motif ceiling are sweet, and when Sporty bounced in a red thigh high dress looking all scrumptious, I think that for a second we even considered sitting down there to eat. I was that nice. But we came to see the whole place, get the Maxim vibe, so we headed up stairs.
I want to note there are supposed to be these thoughts, phrases... "maxims" if you will, in the stairwell, but the whole effect suffers because all the fonts are the same, so you can't tell where one stops and the next starts. I tried for a few minutes and could only make out one. It's a bad effect that different fonts (a simple change) could have fixed.
The room is just as I remember it, long and with a feeling that lacks softness. We get seated next to a large loud party, but we make the best of it. Table service is quick, actual wait service is so-so. Sporty is a little upset because she was thought it would be more..festive, instead it's upscale. I'm upset because I think our waitress might be a man. I expect more from Maxim, jeez, I actually used to read this magazine. Where are the uber hot bimbos? Whatever, we get the Kobe sliders to start, which are yummy, and she gets the short ribs and me the 6 oz. filet.
Did I tell you she looked absolutely beautiful in this dress. She doesn't wear dresses that often, she's still got some tomboy in her, but when she does .....whew!
So we get the food and well, my steak and the sauce were okay, the truffled fries were okay even. Her short ribs were fatty. Maxim shouldn't feel bad, as South City Kitchen's short ribs were fatty as well, but I doubt this fatty. They gave her three ribs...she ate one, picked over one, left one.
Her words: "I guess this one is a strike."
I read up on Maxim after I got back and there is a quote from one of the people pushing it who said "This restaurant will not be another Hooters!" Well I've been to both, and they might want to reconsider. Say what you want, but Hooters been in business more than a minute. The downstairs bar was great, the rest of the restaurant...so-so. Not to mention expensive.
Barkeep...no more of the sparkling water. Seriously.
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