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Review content:
Bar/Club Review At Lima, DJs and Dancing Are on the House By Fritz Hahn Washington Post Weekend Section Friday, November 3, 2006 Even before you get inside, Lima is eager to make an impression. Day or night, a flat-screen TV in the window of the K Street restaurant and lounge is playing an endless commercial for the place -- a video montage of attractive, well-coiffed men and women dancing in a nightclub and sitting around tables sharing drinks, a DJ's hands gliding over turntables and a mixing board, bartenders pouring martinis, chefs serving fancy-looking seafood dishes, crowds waiting in line to get in. And whether you stop by the chilled-out bar on Tuesday for happy hour drinks or show up late on Saturday to hit that dance floor, a chain of velvet ropes lines a red carpet that extends from the sidewalk to the front door. (On Saturday, though, there's an extra rope in front of the door and a rather large man standing behind it.) It seems a bit over-the-top, but take another look -- there's a sleek, hip lounge behind those doors, and besides, how many venues in the District offer DJs and dancing with no cover on weekend nights? Lima is the latest concept from Masoud Aboughaddareh -- the veteran promoter known as Masoud A. -- and his partners, a marriage of a fine-dining restaurant (with Latin-inspired $31 entrees) on the top floor, a relaxing lounge with couches and rum drinks on the street level and late-night dancing in the basement, where a row of tables for pricey bottle service lines one wall, an attractive bar runs the length of another and a DJ booth sits in between. After years of throwing parties at Love, Platinum, Paper Moon and a slew of long-gone nightspots such as DC Live and Eleventh Hour, Masoud A. has the formula down. He knows how to draw good-looking international crowds in their late 20s and 30s who like to dance to house and trance and don't mind dropping $12 for a cocktail. A mix of white, black, Asian and Persian, sometimes heavy on striped shirts and hair gel (guys) and short skirts and highlights (women), his clientele is always ready to have a good time. For most of the week, the first-floor lounge does double duty as a bar and a waiting area for diners, and it's a pleasant space with rusty red walls, chocolate-colored leather couches and a row of modern-looking barstools. Drum 'n' bass, acid jazz and soulful house play from the overhead speakers. It's not a bad place to pop in for an after-work drink downtown; between 5 and 7, beers are $4, and call drinks -- basically your name brands such as Tanqueray or Stoli -- cost $5. When Friday and Saturday roll around, though, those inviting couches are hidden behind velvet ropes and "reserved" signs. If you want to get one, prepare to drop a few hundred dollars on bottle service. (One odd touch: A large pull-down projection screen on one wall plays "The Matrix" over and over. And over.) "When is a lounge not a lounge?" That's the question I've been asking after visits to Lima. Its promoters and owners are very careful to refer to the basement as a lounge instead of a club, but there's a good-size dance floor with dozens of people getting down to jumpy, funky house music as colored lights rotate overhead and smoke periodically shoots out of nozzles near the bar. So many of the nightspots that have opened in Washington in the past year place such a focus on couches, bottle service or cocktails that actual dancing has become an afterthought. Not here. The roped-off VIP section is little more than banquettes and a row of tables running down one wall, sitting on a low wooden platform. It's nice, but if you weren't looking for it, you might not even notice it was there. Most of the space is for people to cut loose. If I were a film director looking for a spot to shoot a good generic nightclub scene -- dimly lit, packed, plenty of action, nice design -- this would be the place I'd head to, particularly on Fridays, when DJ duo Kream Dip gets the room moving with a fun mix of progressive house. Sundays are given over to Marc Barnes, who until recently was Masoud A.'s partner at Love, and his longtime collaborator Taz Wube. It's a more relaxed (and less crowded) affair than on Fridays and Saturdays, with a crowd that runs the gamut from sweaters and dressed-up jeans to blazers and ball caps. DJ Harry Hotter (of Love) spins hip-hop in the basement level, where the party really seems to start after midnight. In the street-level lounge, the velvet ropes guarding the couches have been moved aside, allowing anyone to relax for a bit, and a football game is playing on the projection screen. It's surprising that Lima offers DJs Tuesday through Sunday without a cover charge, because I'd expect to drop $10 or more at the door, as at Masoud's other events at the F Street club Home on Fridays or down the block at kstreet on Saturdays. Not here, a manager tells me. Lima's philosophy is that "we don't do cover charges at the door. Ever." Admission may be free, but that doesn't mean getting in is easy. One Friday night, I'm standing behind a group of four men who complain to the bouncer that they've been waiting for a while without getting past the velvet rope. He shakes his head. "With four guys tonight, you're going to have to buy a table." Masoud A.'s philosophy is that there should be as close to a 1-to-1 male-female ratio as possible, so it's advisable to arrive in mixed-sex groups. (When I showed up solo on a Saturday, though, I got in pretty quickly.) Although the dress code is "dress to impress -- nothing too baggy or too casual," I've seen guys wearing Chuck Taylors with skinny jeans or cool Lacoste sneakers with a blazer. Still, it's better to be safe than sorry. Since you're not paying for admission, you're going to make up for it at the bar, and for what these drinks cost, they could be better. A bare-bones mojito made with Bacardi Silver and a little mint will set you back $12. Bartenders are inconsistent -- I've paid two prices for a drink in the same night, and sometimes a cocktail that cost $9 on Saturday is $10 on Sunday. One bartender in the lounge on a Friday made me what is officially the worst gin and tonic I've ever tasted. I sat for a minute trying to figure out if I'd somehow made them mad. But I'll give them another chance. Lima's big enough to meet up with a large group of friends, it's cheap (until you hit the bar) and that dance floor buzzes.
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