I ended up at ROMY. Steakhouse? Supper house? Supper club? They call themselves a few things. I’m calling it a steakhouse, because that’s what it feels closest to, and because steakhouses are my love language.
ROMY took over the old Little Prince space on Prince Street in SoHo. It’s from Cobi Levy, the restaurateur behind Lola Taverna and Cucina Alba, so I walked in with high hopes and an empty stomach. Two of my favorite conditions.
The Space
They did a really good job with the room. Shiny hardwood everywhere, dark and polished, very grown up. It’s a tiny space, but somehow it feels bigger than it did as Little Prince. You don’t feel like everyone is sitting on your lap, which in SoHo is basically a luxury amenity.
But to create that feeling, they had to sacrifice something.
The bar.
I know. I KNOW. Of all the people to walk into a restaurant with no bar seats, it had to be me. The guy whose entire personality is sitting at the bar. They had to explain it to me three times. Not because it was complicated. Because I was in denial. It’s like telling a Yankees fan there’s no ninth inning.
The Martini and the Internal Riot
I ordered pretty much my usual, with a little twist. The martinis are excellent. And the glassware is sneaky. The shape makes it look small and dainty, like you’re getting a polite little sip. You’re not. It holds way more than it looks like it does. It’s an optical illusion, like my waistline in a dark photo, except in reverse and in my favor for once.
I also tried one of their signature drinks, the Internal Riot. Basically an espresso martini on steroids. Reposado, brown butter, and espresso. Silky as hell. I loved it. If an espresso martini went to grad school and came back with a personality, this is it. And after an Internal Riot and a sneaky big martini, there was definitely an internal riot going on.
The Crispy Lasagna: My Fault, Not Theirs
For food, I went with one of the server’s recommendations, the crispy lasagna with black truffle and fontina. It was okay. Not bad. Just not what I pictured.
In my head, “crispy lasagna” meant something flat and shattery, like a lasagna chip. It’s fried, but it comes out in rounds. That’s on me. I should have looked it up online first. But I didn’t, because I’m a man who walks into restaurants with no research and no bar seats, apparently.
The Caesar Salad
The Caesar came with great croutons. Really great croutons. The dressing was a little too tangy for my taste. Not bad, just not my thing. You don’t have to love everything everybody loves. That’s how I feel about cilantro, CrossFit, and Peter Luger’s.
Meanwhile, the table next to me got the wedge salad, and it looked awesome. Note to self for round two.
The Romy Burger
I got the burger. Shallot jam and cheddar on a good-sized patty, with french fries on the side. Solid all around. I would absolutely get it again. It’s not trying to reinvent anything. It’s just a well-made burger that knows its job and shows up to do it.
Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner
Here’s the honest part. My burger came out twenty minutes after I finished my appetizers. Twenty minutes. Just me, an empty plate, and my thoughts. And I was seated in the corner. Ironically, specifically, in the corner.
Nobody puts baby in the corner. And yet. Here I was. Baby. Corner. Staring at the kitchen door like a dog waiting for its owner to come home.
On top of that, there was some pressure to turn the table over. I get it. Small room, new restaurant, everybody wants in. I’m chalking it up to bad timing in the first few weeks of opening. My server was great, though. Receptive, knew the menu, genuinely helpful. He just couldn’t get me out of the corner.
No Dessert This Time
I skipped dessert. Part of it was the table turnover. Part of it was that nothing on the dessert menu jumped out at me. The desserts looked good, I just wasn’t in a dessert mood. It was one of those days. It happens to the best of us. It rarely happens to me. Mark the calendar.
The Payment App: My One Real Complaint
The one thing I really did not like? They use Bilt to pay. Great idea in theory. Annoying as hell in practice. It took me four tries to get set up.
And before anybody says anything, yes, I know how to use technology. I work with technology. I have certifications in technology. My phone just kept clicking and spinning like it was trying to dial into a 1998 AOL account.
Also, nobody tells you the etiquette. After I pay, do I just get up? Do I wave? Do I say goodbye to the phone? It’s too new. I’m sure once your account is set up it’s fast and painless. But the first time? Not a fan. Give me a check presenter and a pen any day.
The Verdict
Overall, I’d definitely come back. The drinks are great, the burger is solid, the room is beautiful, and I still need to try the steaks, which is the whole point of a steakhouse. Plus that wedge salad is haunting me.
I’m going to give ROMY a little time to settle in and work out the opening kinks. Then I’m coming back. Hopefully not to the corner.
As always, what do I know? I am just a fat guy from Brooklyn trying to survive the week, one martini at a time. Looking for more NYC restaurant reviews? Check out my Best Steakhouses in NYC, Best Burgers in NYC, and Best Restaurants in NYC lists.