Super Splurge: Dinner at Smith and Wollensky

The steak was a thing of beauty. Huge (the waiter attempted to serve it to my boyfriend, then laughed sheepishly when he discovered that I was the hungry culprit), encased by tenderizing tubes of fat, and the pinkish color assumed by tomato soup when combined with milk, the cut screamed "dig right in!" from its au jus shelter. Eating steak like this is almost a cannibalistic endeavor. When a steak is brought from kitchen to table, heads turn and conversations cease as restaurant patrons eye each plate, compare it to their own, and decide what to order if they haven't already done so. Each cut stands alone, untainted by sides of french fried potatoes or steamed asparagus, on a simple white plate. Here, its individual personality (unyielding? tender?) and physical attributes (red? fatty?) can be clearly evaluated by the diner before he or she embarks on the spiritual process of consumption.

I ordered my prime rib medium rare, which allows the delicious, natural flavor of the meat to expose itself. Each bite was juicy, tender, and lightly salty when dipped in the thin gravy. Though I love prime rib, I think I'll try a less fatty cut next time. Nearly half the steak consists of fat, which reduces the edible quantity and makes cutting a tiresome task.

The sides were pretty yummy too. The creamed spinach was emerald green, creamy, and sometimes crunchy. The mashed potatoes were buttery, though the texture could have been a bit less dense.

We decided to forego dessert as we were too stuffed to speak to each other (a wise choice, considering we were both incapacitated throughout the remainder of the evening). My stomach did survive the event, though not without repercussions. I had a second subway scare the next morning and nearly had to bail at Lorimer St. on my way to work. Hopefully I will have a speedy recovery so I can revert to my fried food and oversized portion tendencies!