Steve
11-05-2005, 02:56 PM
The naked truth.
Strip club steak house fails to Score
By Al Mancini
I have to admit, I love strip clubs. When I was in college in New Jersey in the late '80s, I considered them mildly sexist and somewhat embarrassing. And when I moved to New York City in 1990, I saw them as little more than a way for the pathetically horny to waste their hard-earned cash. But when Rudy Giuliani made eliminating Manhattan topless bars a cornerstone of his puritanical "quality of life" campaign, I began to develop an appreciation for their simple decadence. And by the time I moved to Las Vegas, I was a serious fan. I even scored a job reviewing them for one this town's other papers -- until the cheap bastards decided lap dances didn't look good on an expense report. So when New York's legendary Scores took over Jaguars, I put their in-house restaurant Diardi's at the top of my review list. Sadly, however, the place doesn't do meat and potatoes as well as it does T&A.
In all fairness, I had intended to give Diardi's a few weeks to get its act together before I ate there. Perhaps I misread the "grand opening" invitations Scores had sent to the press. But by the time my editors were expecting this review, the place had only been open a few days. That might explain some of my bad experiences. Unless they're planning to bring in a new architect, a new chef and someone to rewrite their menu, however, I think most of their future customers will probably be as disappointed as I was.
The first problem you'll notice about Diardi's is that it sits directly off of Scores' main floor, without even a pane of glass to separate the two areas. In a club with endless side rooms, it's a bit odd to put a supposedly gourmet steak house that close to the action. I will admit that while I was waiting to be seated, an unobstructed view of the cool acrobatic routines on the main stage seemed like a good idea. But after a few minutes of screaming over the sound system, it became obvious that casual dinner conversation was going to be impossible.
The inability to hear might be part of the reason the staff wasn't able to get our orders right. The two steaks my party ordered both arrived overcooked. My wife decided that after the incredibly long wait for her New York Strip ($34 without a side dish) that she'd already endured, it wasn't worth the effort of sending it back. And when one of our friends demanded that his $35 filet mignon be prepared the way he had ordered it, and was forced to wait 40 minutes for a replacement, it was obvious she'd made the right choice.
My large serving of shrimp scampi ($24) was actually pretty good, although I hadn't expected that the word "tomato" in the description would indicate a red sauce rather than the traditional white. On the other hand, my wife's Caprese salad ($12) had been served with a traditional balsamic vinegar topping, despite a bizarre menu description promising it with "beefsteak tomatoes sauce."
Other than being excruciatingly slow, our service was fine. Our waitress was pleasant, anxious to correct the kitchen's mistakes and prettier than most of the dancers. In fact, she would have been the high point of the meal if she'd been willing to give lap dances. Her refusal was made worse by the fact that every other table in the place had at least one dancer getting naked for the diners. That may not be bad if the guy sitting next to you has good taste in women. In my case, however, I was forced to endure the naked ass of a slightly overweight dancer three feet from my face as I waded through my mediocre lobster cognac bisque ($9).
As strip clubs go, Scores is a beautiful place with a ton of potential. If you're looking for a good meal before the bump 'n' grind, however, you may want to go elsewhere.
Diardi's
Inside Scores
3355 S. Procyon
367-4000
http://www.lvcitylife.com/
Strip club steak house fails to Score
By Al Mancini
I have to admit, I love strip clubs. When I was in college in New Jersey in the late '80s, I considered them mildly sexist and somewhat embarrassing. And when I moved to New York City in 1990, I saw them as little more than a way for the pathetically horny to waste their hard-earned cash. But when Rudy Giuliani made eliminating Manhattan topless bars a cornerstone of his puritanical "quality of life" campaign, I began to develop an appreciation for their simple decadence. And by the time I moved to Las Vegas, I was a serious fan. I even scored a job reviewing them for one this town's other papers -- until the cheap bastards decided lap dances didn't look good on an expense report. So when New York's legendary Scores took over Jaguars, I put their in-house restaurant Diardi's at the top of my review list. Sadly, however, the place doesn't do meat and potatoes as well as it does T&A.
In all fairness, I had intended to give Diardi's a few weeks to get its act together before I ate there. Perhaps I misread the "grand opening" invitations Scores had sent to the press. But by the time my editors were expecting this review, the place had only been open a few days. That might explain some of my bad experiences. Unless they're planning to bring in a new architect, a new chef and someone to rewrite their menu, however, I think most of their future customers will probably be as disappointed as I was.
The first problem you'll notice about Diardi's is that it sits directly off of Scores' main floor, without even a pane of glass to separate the two areas. In a club with endless side rooms, it's a bit odd to put a supposedly gourmet steak house that close to the action. I will admit that while I was waiting to be seated, an unobstructed view of the cool acrobatic routines on the main stage seemed like a good idea. But after a few minutes of screaming over the sound system, it became obvious that casual dinner conversation was going to be impossible.
The inability to hear might be part of the reason the staff wasn't able to get our orders right. The two steaks my party ordered both arrived overcooked. My wife decided that after the incredibly long wait for her New York Strip ($34 without a side dish) that she'd already endured, it wasn't worth the effort of sending it back. And when one of our friends demanded that his $35 filet mignon be prepared the way he had ordered it, and was forced to wait 40 minutes for a replacement, it was obvious she'd made the right choice.
My large serving of shrimp scampi ($24) was actually pretty good, although I hadn't expected that the word "tomato" in the description would indicate a red sauce rather than the traditional white. On the other hand, my wife's Caprese salad ($12) had been served with a traditional balsamic vinegar topping, despite a bizarre menu description promising it with "beefsteak tomatoes sauce."
Other than being excruciatingly slow, our service was fine. Our waitress was pleasant, anxious to correct the kitchen's mistakes and prettier than most of the dancers. In fact, she would have been the high point of the meal if she'd been willing to give lap dances. Her refusal was made worse by the fact that every other table in the place had at least one dancer getting naked for the diners. That may not be bad if the guy sitting next to you has good taste in women. In my case, however, I was forced to endure the naked ass of a slightly overweight dancer three feet from my face as I waded through my mediocre lobster cognac bisque ($9).
As strip clubs go, Scores is a beautiful place with a ton of potential. If you're looking for a good meal before the bump 'n' grind, however, you may want to go elsewhere.
Diardi's
Inside Scores
3355 S. Procyon
367-4000
http://www.lvcitylife.com/