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| - Reading other Yelpers' take on Nighttown, I honestly have to wonder if we're talking about different places. I've heard this place called the best jazz club in the city. If that's true, it's a depressing reflection on Cleveland.
I've been here three times, each time mainly for the music. Had dinner twice, and once just drinks. The first time for dinner, the food was above average. The lobster mac and cheese was excellent, the accompanying bread service better than the usual.
The music, each time, was also above average.
And thus concludes the list of good things I have to say about this place.
Let's start with the absurdly cramped dining setup in the performance room. In front of the stage, chairs and tables are wedged so closely together that it's literally impossible to stand up if the person behind you has their chair pushed back. As for space to the sides, there's maybe a foot between each two-top table. This is not an exaggeration. The tables are so close that the first time we dined there, the slightly creepy older gentleman at the table next to us simply inserted himself into our dining conversation.
What's worse, the tables in the front of the room are so close to the performance area (there is no stage, which is frankly pretty insulting to the musicians) that on my most recent visit I stood up from my chair and quite literally nearly knocked the drummer's crash cymbal over.
This is not a place for a date night.
Beyond the lobster mac in that first dinner visit, all the food my wife and I have tried has been subpar and poorly executed. The most recent visit started with clam chowder, which was tasty but probably 10 percent sand. It was so gritty that my wife had to send hers back. Our main courses were worse: My wife's crab cakes were accompanied by ice-cold mashed potatoes. My fried calamari was accompanied by...nothing -- in spite of the menu promising a wasabi-mustard aioli. I finally flagged down our server and noted the omission. "Oh, it's on there," she said.
"No, it really isn't," I said.
"It's very light," she said.
"It's DRY," I said.
So she huffed and puffed and finally arrived with a plastic ramekin of yellowy goop. It was pretty much honey mustard, equivalent to McDonalds' nuggets dipping sauce.
Which brings us to the service. In a word, it's atrocious. During each of my three visits, I was served by waitresses who were beyond surly and edging on downright mean. A highlight from the most recent visit: Informing her that we wanted another bottle of wine, and could we please get a menu to see the list? 15 minutes later she drops off a menu...and then promptly disappears for another 20.
Another highlight: Watching her bring an adjacent table's (very expensive) whiskeys, then stopping to take an order while the poor guys at that table looked longingly at the tray she'd set down just out of reach.
(Speaking of drinks: The place does stock some high-end liquor, but be prepared to pay through the nose. As for wine? I've sampled probably five or six of the selections from their limited list, and each has been simply bad. One glass was clearly on its way to being off, so much that I was prepared to send it back, but then didn't see our waitress for literally another hour.)
The most infuriating thing is that EVERY check has gratuity added automatically when music is playing. A gratuity of 20 percent. Twenty. Percent. Automatically. Is it any wonder the service is crap?
But hey, this is a music space, right? It's all about the music? Yeah, no. The weak food and awful service would perhaps be tolerable if this were actually a good place to see real jazz, but the setup, staff, and clientele all work together to ensure that isn't the case. I've mentioned the fact that there's no stage, which is almost unheard of in any serious venue. Stageless setups are for cocktail parties and dinner music, places where the music isn't meant to be the focal point.
But the place has so many other issues that it's clear that a lack of respect for the music is endemic to this joint. Consider: A waitress clashes through the tables as the band engages in a particularly quiet number, asking -- loudly enough to be heard in the next room -- if people want a refill on their water. On WATER. Lady, it's WATER. If there's room in the glass for more, put it there and shut your gob.
Consider: the kitchen can be clearly heard from right in front of the "stage." Clashing pots, laughing and yelling cooks, irritable waitresses screeching orders.
Consider: several tables full of very loud patrons were completely ignored by service staff and management, EVEN AFTER THE BAND LEADER ASKED THEM TO QUIET DOWN.
And consider: Despite an advertised $20 cover, no one was at the door to take money. That can't be good for the performers.
Cleveland, you can do better. You should do better. This place is an embarrassment.
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