The excessive attitude at Acme is reminiscent of a bar from the early 90s. Once a dive Southern fried food joint, the remake of this spot into a "farm to table" type restaurant brings all the bad notions of hipsters to the fore. First there is a guy guarding the basement, with a list using those trite words "private party". Note no sour grapes here; we were on the list for said- party. It just wasn't a party; it's a bar where you have to pay for double digit drinks, complete with mint- slapping mixologists in beanies and beards. Upstairs, after all the requisite fashion week parties (and yes, we put it in Grazia, so it's in the scene, and hence reviewed here), this spot has become hot enough that the "5pm or 10.30pm" line is oft- used. But on two dining occasions, at least three tables near us stayed empty for long enough that walk- ins could have been accommodated (they're not.) While the food was tasty enough, it was really clear that the "moment" is what the investment bankers all around us were after, over any real eating experience. Take away the hotness, which we ourselves contributed to, and it's unlikely they'd be dining here. There's still the occasional real musician partying, but it appears to be more the promise of an artistic crowd, than the actual artistic crowd. Long story short? If a spot is a great time, with amazing music and superb drinks, then the attitude is often overlooked. But if it's just passable, as it is at Acme, the attitude becomes insufferable.

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