Yes, we dine out... a lot. Every now and then, we'll share our experiences in Eater's Journal. Does our opinion matter? Maybe not, but we might as well weigh in.
Behold, the newly refurbished, newly opened, Thomas Schoos-designed Table 8. What? You can't see it? Neither could we! This is with the flash on, people. Ok, not really, but we're trying to make a point: That light and breezy room we grew to love is now really dark with deep eggplant-purple colored walls, super low lights, and candles flickering everywhere. Don't get us wrong, we like dim lights, we love purple. It feels very rock 'n roll, very Melrose; Prince will love it. But people dressed in black languidly lounging on black leather couches and chairs, the squinting to see who's who, it kind of reminded us of...a goth coffee shop. A sophisticated goth coffee shop, but yes, goth.
The small outdoor dining area is gone, so now it's even harder to find (look for the valet stand), and the entryway has been switched--you walk into a shadowy lounge, which used to be the main dining room. On the other side, black tables, black furniture, more people dressed in black. The press release says there's a white marble communal table, but we didn't see it. The tables are in odd configurations, too; walking to the bathroom is a little bit of a maze, but that could've been the wine (and martini...). The former Table 8 spaced tables out in both sides of the room, and each table was filled. Now, the lounge is wide open with a small bar, and the dining tables seem crammed in one side; when it's empty (it wasn't packed Saturday night), it feels unbalanced. Supposedly, there are curtains to keep the two rooms separate.
We heard the food is still fantastic; we didn't try this time around. We heard the service is still great; we had a bartender with way. too. much. 'tude. and not enough knowledge. Next time, we'll stay longer and let our eyes adjust to the darkness. Or we'll taker our night-vision goggles. That should work.
Further reading on Yelp.
