Rocco's Steakhouse.....The latest Flatiron NYC venture

Restaurant Critique

Rocco’s Steakhouse

72 Madison Ave. New York, NY

Gerald Feldman

Photos: Gerald Feldman

Patch.com

At Rocco’s Steakhouse in Manhattan, the setting

is that of an early 20th century men’s club. Lush with

dark wood paneling and low lighting, the vibe is elegant

and classic American. On the walls are prints of iconic

building of NYC, some even during construction which

is befitting of the owner’s background.

Mr. Rocco Trotta, an entrepreneur, is quite an interesting man.

First of all, his original calling was that of construction

management with an engineerig company that partook in the

rebuilding of lower Manhattan after 9/11. His company also

worked on the construction of the “high-line park”. Alas, he

was named “Engineer of the year” by the NY State Society

of Professional Engineers.

An owner of two steakhouses in the tri-state area, Mr. Trotta

made a go of it in Manhattan. Here, the meat is dry-aged for

30 days on the premises, then cooked and served on sizzling

hot platters in a sublime aroma of butter. His staff is impeccable.

We had three waiters helping us. I must note that to work at

Rocco’s one must have a minimum of 10 years of steakhouse

experience in order to be hired.

Teaming up with general manager Pete Pjetrovic as well as

others transplanted from Wolfgang’s Steakhouse, the restaurant

has the freshest seafood, the finest wine selection and even some

Italian dishes all served in a classic, old school steakhouse

style. Rocco’s is becoming an instant hit in the Flatiron area.

The setting is a showcase to impress dates, clients or “ seal the

deal” meetings in business and of course doing it in style.

Every meal is an unforgettable experience as was ours.

It’s become something of a cliché to compare an exceptional meal to a
great symphony.

The comparison is obvious considering the many elements that contribute
to its ultimate effect. So please indulge this variation on the
musical metaphor in my review of the Rocco Steakhouse.

Because the classical three movement concerto is dependent on the voice of a

single instrument in contrast to and conjunction with the immense force of a symphony
orchestra,it must possess the authority, range, and perhaps gravitas of tradition,

to balance and at times surpass the orchestra’s weight.

This is why when it came to reviewing a three course porterhouse dinner at
Rocco's, (a classic steakhouse that harkens to an earlier legacy), structuring

this essay along these lines became the self-evident choice. For what better way to show

this comparison than with the primal appetite for a great slab of char-broiled beef,

staged within the beautiful setting of a cavernous Victorian steakhouse, artfully prepared and served by chef and staff, and accompanied by all the elements that compose a classic three course

steak dinner.

1. Allegro (lively and bright)

The salad of tossed greens and tomato, slathered with house blue cheese,
would have been a sprightly and refreshing intro but for the over-generous ladling of

said dressing (with chunks of ripe cheese, some the size of my thumb) that flooded the

plate. Instead of whetting the appetite it tended to overwhelm. (My bad, I had asked

for extra dressing and served a brimming bowl, I greedily emptied it onto the plate.

Fortunately, by pressing my spoon into the soggy bed I was able to siphon off most of

the pungent brew and enjoy a crisply appetizing dish.)

2. Adagio (slowly)

\Adagio, Italian for “slowly,” is a fitting tempo for the introduction

of our soloist. The massive porterhouse beefsteak for two – sizzling with thirty days of dry-aged

dignity, supine on flame singed stripe-edged porcelain –was plated with measured, almost reverent skill by one of our three expert servers.

Accompanied by two sides -- a Gibraltar of salty/sweet
french fries and a bowl of silky creamed spinach.
There were two slices per plate from this Janus faced slab
– one shell, juicy and tartly flavorful, with a hint of
traction to the chew; one tenderloin, slightly less flavor,
but tender as pudding – cooked medium as ordered,
red in the middle with a bloom of pink at the aureola’s edge.
We were left the happy task of serving ourselves the rest –
but slowly.

Our out-sized porterhouse steak – charred and smokey,
piquant flesh and blood tinted juices, the tangy sweet unction
(soft on the lips, melting on the tongue) of its marbled fat --
was a faithfully measured reiteration of another tradition
long familiar, whose dominion demanded to be recognized,
affirmed and slowly savored.
All it needed was a little more salt.

3. Scherzo (swiftly moving) and Coda (tail, end)
Dessert:
rich and mellow coffee with cream (a la Vienna as opposed
to the bitter French roast). A crisp sugar-dusted apple strudel, stuffed with a generous

whirl of tartly sweet apple slices and a hint of cinnamon (a bit cold, could have

used a minute or two in the oven before being served, but delicious nonetheless), and

a traditional side dollop of schlag (German for whipped cream) to put the

final punctuation to a masterful meal.

Bravo!