For a couple of years Annie and I were
going to the same place yearly for our sinful jaunt. But our
previous haven of inequity was to up and down as far as quality, so
we decided to take our devilish show on the road. After a bit of
searching, and deciding we wanted to go to someplace entirely new to
us, we settled on Costata. What better place for meaty indulgence
than an eatery whose name means “rib eye” in Italian? As it
turns out, there are better places.
When we arrived for our 7:15
reservation, there weren't very many parties seated. But, as I've
come to notice lately, dinner time seems to be getting later and
later for most folks. As the last handful of times I've been out to
eat, restaurants aren't really starting to fill up until after 8,
sometimes after 9. I couldn't imagine it being a good idea to have a
big, steak dinner after 9pm. But that's just me. Initially, our
server was a touch overbearing. He was a little to eager. And while
I prefer this to a server that disappears, it is distracting when
you're conversing with someone only to be interrupted by an
over-eager waitstaff. It was also a little unnerving that when the
waitstaff wasn't helping anyone they seemed to gather against one
wall near the center of the dining room and line up facing their
guests. It reminded me of a murder of crows sitting on a power line
plotting something evil on unsuspecting travelers stranded on the
side of a rarely traveled highway. This was somewhat exacerbated by
the upstairs dining room (there was another one downstairs that
seemed to be blocked off for some reason or another) feeling somewhat
snug. Despite the classic rock playing (which I also found an odd
choice) and the bustle of a busy room, it was still entirely too easy
to catch snippets of all the conversations surrounding us. I'd have
likely felt less murderous towards the douchey foursome seated next
to us if I hadn't heard one of them say to their server “We
absolutely must meet the chef, he insisted we come see him when we
met him at the Food and Wine show” or knowing that they had a
strenuous game of squash. (Who the fuck plays squash!? Yeah, I'm
judging. So what?) These things seemed to stop once the dining room
filled up and everyone got busier. We wound up really liking our
waiter in the end. He was very personable as it turned out. It also
seemed off to me that you had to take an elevator down two floors to
use the restrooms. Just another small thing that stuck out as
off-putting to me. These things might seem a little nitpicky but
they're generally not an issue at the better places. They're the
things that set great restaurants apart from average ones.
Speaking of judging, on the other side
of us from the squash-player and the chef-meeter were a somewhat
younger foursome. Along with two Malaysian-looking women (I couldn't
help joking that we found some of the people from the missing plane.)
one guy in that foursome was wearing an FDNY t-shirt and the other
was wearing a hoodie. Both were wearing sneakers. Now I'm not
really a stickler for dress codes and such. I'm all about comfort.
But under no circumstances is it OK to go to a steakhouse wearing
sneakers and a t-shirt! If you're going to a steakhouse, you're
signaling to the world that you're a grown-up and you appreciate the
finer things life has to offer you. Dress the part! Fuckin'
douchebags. Moving on...
Getting to what is obviously the most
important part...the food.
When you set out to purposely do evil
and the first thing you're served upon sitting at your table is a
piece of fluffy focaccia and a bowl of whipped lardo flavored with
olive oil and rosemary, you're well on your way to becoming the
devil's favorite demons. Whipped lardo is basically meat butter.
It's rendered back fat from a pig flavored with garlic and vinegar.
Then they add some flavored olive oil to it at the table. That's
right, they flavor the fat with...Even...More...Fat. Simply amazing.
Unfortunately, it was the best thing we ate. Not that anything was
bad, just that nothing was great. And most things were average.
We started out with an octopus and
porkbelly dish and sweetbreads. The octopus was very good, the pork
belly...not so much. It didn't taste much like pork, just fat. Not
even porky fat, like it should have tasted. I'd have been much
happier with more octopus instead. The sweetbreads were very subtle.
At least that's the consensus Annie and I came up with. All it
really tasted like was fried something. As neither of us have ever
had sweetbreads (we broke our cherry here) we didn't know what
they're supposed to taste like. But I feel safe in assuming that
they shouldn't taste like nothing.
 |
| This thing is really is sinfully gorgeous. Good pic, Annie. |
Since we were out for steak, steak is
what we ordered. We got the Costata. I feel like if you're going to
a “high end” restaurant for the first time, you might as well
order what they're known for. And I can't imagine what's more clear
than ordering a dish with the same name as the restaurant. The
Costata is a bone-in rib eye for two. Of course, we ordered it in
medium-rare. (If you're ordering a steak at a steakhouse cooked
anything higher than medium, you're wasting your money. Just stay
home and eat a TV dinner.) On the side we ordered baby zucchini,
crispy red potatoes and fried artichokes. I really liked the
zucchini, which are served in a bagna cauda vinaigrette (garlic, oil
and sardines...it really is wonderful). The potatoes were OK. I
didn't dislike them but that's the best I can say about them. The
artichokes were a waste of time. They might as well have been potato
chips as much as they tasted like artichokes. The rib-eye was very
impressive looking. Perfectly cooked and laid out next to a fierce
looking monster of a bone. (There were a couple of times I
considered using that giant bone as a club to beat the t-shirt guy or
the squash player) It wasn't a bad steak, folks. But it wasn't a
great one either. Truthfully, it wasn't even a good one. It was an OK
steak. Both ends of the steak were a bit tough and I was surprised
by how much gristle was in the meat. When I pay this much money for
a steak, I expect something near perfection. That's not what we got.
The flavor of the steak was pretty good. Slightly gamey, almost
funky. I liked that.
After dinner, even though it was
somewhat disappointing, we tried dessert. Annie seemed pleased with
her gelato, that the waiter helped her choose. I really liked the
fruit torte that I got which had a ricotta mousse on an almond cake
with some fresh berries and a blueberry limoncello sorbet. The
coffee was excellent.
In all, I've got to say that I was
pretty disappointed in Costata. I came in expecting much better.
And after spending more than I ever had on a meal in a restaurant I'd
have hoped for more. This was a very expensive, average experience.
Truthfully, the company saved the night. If I wasn't out eating with
someone I like being out with, I'd have been angry at the whole deal.
Thankfully, your companions make the night, not the restaurant. I
didn't hate the place, but there was nothing there that would make me
want to go back. Annie and I will be looking for another new place
to sin next year.
206 Spring Street
New York, NY, 10012
212-334-3320
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