The Barman: Hungry For the 1515 Restaurant and Lounge

I allot only a certain amount of time to visit and review a bar for my pub-crawl reviews, and while heading out of the house last Thursday, I could tell by the grumbling in my stomach that the only criterion I needed to meet right then was to satisfy my hunger, which meant I needed a bar that served food.

I chose 1515 Restaurant and Lounge, at 1515 N. Main St., as all I hear about is how good the food is and that cougars and perverted men fill the place as if given their own reservation to roam.

I brought a friend. We arrived around 7:00, pausing on the sidewalk to survey the scene. One of the best things about 1515 is the front patio, which holds around 10 tables with nearby heating lamps when necessary, along with a fireplace and a flat screen TV above it for the sports enthusiasts. Sorry, smokers, no lighting up out here.

On this night there was a sort of band on the patio, two gentlemen churning out songs as old and hackneyed as them, acoustical versions of Neil Diamond, The Beatles, Billy Joel and Eric Clapton. Fifteen-fifteen’s own Simon and Garfunkel. Not entirely displeasing except that there was no conviction in their voices. It was as if they had formed a band in their basement and were afraid they might wake their grandmother sleeping above them. Still, the people seated outside seemed OK with it.

We proceeded inside and were greeted by warm smiles from the hostesses. To the right is the bar and lounge, which features a stylish décor you often find flipping through trendy magazines. Located to the immediate right were tall cocktail tables and chairs and, further on, comfy looking couches and small leather ottomans to place food and drinks on. Exhibited on the back wall is a giant mirror along with bar art displayed smartly on the walls around the room.

The bar itself is not huge, but the counter is beautiful, made from smooth limestone (as the bartender later informed us), and the wineglasses hanging overhead give the bar a sparkly appearance.

It was with great disappointment that I did not see any perverts or cougars groping young people of the opposite sex. Just your boring, run-of-the-mill, normal crowd, seemingly enjoying a good time.

The dining room is to the left. It’s as small and narrow as a shoebox, and the tables are close together. If nothing else, it is cozy (a word home-owners love to use when trying to sell their inadequate, cottage-sized home).

The place wasn't packed but certainly lively. My friend and I were lucky to find the last two seats at the bar where we sat and ordered a beer. I was starving, so we ordered right away, choosing to share a handful of appetizers and small plates instead of entrees.

We watched the Giants game and settled into neighborly conversation with our co-patrons. I haven't figured out why yet, but sitting at a long bar seems to gain you access to a special club. The instant you sit down people turn their heads and greet you and start up a conversation they weren't ready to begin while you were standing. Food is brought and immediately offered by whoever ordered it to those sitting nearby. Maybe it's Benihana mentality, I don't know, but it makes for a friendly good time.

We ordered another beer and we sat … and we sat. After 30 minutes and three beers apiece, we still had no food, and we’re talking appetizers here. It wasn’t as if we had ordered a well-done New York steak.

Four stools down a large, lumpy man wearing a Raider T-shirt and a Corona visor shared our predicament and displayed the only form of wit he was capable of to the bartender, regurgitating a sufficiently overused line utilized in restaurants:  "Did the chef have to go out and kill the cow before he cooked it?"

The bartender provided a practiced chuckle and apology and assured the man that it shouldn't be much longer, to which the man replied, "It's going to taste a whole lot better when it's free."

The food finally arrived, and despite the unexplained duration of time it takes to cook calamari and ribs, I discovered that 1515’s reputation for great food is warranted. Each dish was cooked just right and accompanied with tasty sauces.

Most people around us echoed our approval with their dishes, except for the large complainer who was astounded when he received his bill and realized that nothing had been taken off to reconcile his long wait.

After loud objections and a visit from the manager, something was discounted and the man, demonstrating his limited capability of appreciation, left a sufficiently limited tip, based on the disgusted look on the bartender’s face.

We each had one more beer and left with a full belly.

Having participated in the relaxing weekday scene, I returned to 1515 on Friday night to check out the late night crowd. One of the main attractions here, beyond the pleasant décor and ambiance, is the upstairs. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about bars throughout my college years and my bartending career, it’s that the bars with lots of rooms or “hidden” areas to explore seem to have ongoing success.  

I’m not quite sure why that is, except that people love variety and options, and the upstairs at 1515 offers the option to spread out. It is quite a large area.

I arrived around 11:00 p.m. and exercised my own option of checking out the upstairs atmosphere. Apparently everyone else had the same idea because the hallway leading to the stairway was full of people waiting in line to go up.

As I got closer and peeked around the corner I saw that a lady had evidently fallen down the stairs and twisted her ankle. She was holding onto it and wincing as one of the bouncers checked on her. Behind me, two women expressed their concern.

Woman No. 1:  “What’s going on? Why is the line so long?”

I informed them that it appeared a woman had fallen down the stairs.

Woman No. 2:  “Is she moving? She’s holding everyone up.”

“I think she’s hurt quite bad,” I responded.

Woman No. 1:  “But how hard is it to move off to the side?”

Woman No. 2:  “I just hope they don’t close the upstairs. I walked four blocks to get here.”

It was great to see that empathy hasn’t been lost on the club-attending youth in Walnut Creek.

The lady was eventually helped off the stairs and out the back door where her husband or boyfriend helped her into the car he had pulled around, and the flow of shallow people to the upstairs resumed.

As I remembered, the upstairs was roomy, except that tonight there was a band at the far end of the room, choking off a good section of it. To the right is a separate room with a couple of tables and places to sit — more nooks and hidden areas that the youth explore.

The band was of the blues variety, and again the age landed them somewhere in the Led Zeppelin era.  Like the acoustical duo from the night before on the patio, they cranked out tunes that were made for these kids’ parents. It’s not that they were bad, simply misplaced. 

Fifteen-fifteen is not a blues bar. At 11:00 on a Friday night upstairs, the 21- to 30-year-olds are expecting to listen to loud hip hop music, drink the cheapest shots available and move awkwardly to the pulse of the music.

This band was bluegrass and belonged at a Mississippi bar on a mossy river with people who can play along with a makeshift tambourine or blow into a milk jug and have a knee-slapping good time. I saw at least four or five groups of people come upstairs, look at the band playing and walk right back down.

Even so, the place became packed and even the geezers playing their blues music couldn’t keep them away. The night took on a life of its own as the young party-goers drank and shouted into each other’s ears and toasted their good health.

Fifteen-fifteen has done a fine job of creating a unique, fun bar to go to with great food and ambiance: mellow for the early crowd, rockin’ for the late crowd.  Their main problem is having a hybrid bar, age-wise, and becoming confused on how to deliver to both sets of patrons.  Old men playing old music should be reserved for Sunday through Wednesday, not Thursday and Friday.

Nevertheless, good quality product, nice people, good bartenders. Happy hour is served from 3-6 p.m. seven days a week at which time you can try their great food for half the price, and they also have drink specials going on each night of the week, such as:  Herradura Tequila Tuesdays ($5), Texas Tea Thursdays (also $5), and $10 pitchers of draft beer Fridays during happy hour, to name a few.

Pros:  

Beautiful décor and “loungy” feel

Great food and Martini list

Competent, fast bartenders

Roomy upstairs

Cons:

Music choices not always spot on

Food can take awhile to come out

Overall, drink prices can be a bit steep