Unlike its homogeneous counterparts in South Beach, this ten-year-old danceteria doesn't cater to celebs and fashion slaves, or to the hype engendering such trendiness. Hell, the Kitchen doesn't even have a telephone. What the club has is a dedication to the dark side of nightlife, the Gothic ethos, those decadent delights of revelry no one will ever tell their grandchildren about. It's an undying vision dating back to the late Eighties when the Kitchen was in South Beach, a time when South Beach enjoyed its hipness heyday. As the carpetbaggers invaded, the Kitchen headed to the mainland, setting up shop in Coconut Grove and the Design District before settling in the Shores a couple of years ago. With nary a velvet rope or tourist in sight, the Kitchen remains Miami's reliably black-garbed island in a stormy sea of nightlife.