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| - John D. Rockefeller was a complex man. He was a philanthropist whose generosity helped wipe out hookworm and yellow fever to some. To others (like my subversive self) he was a greedy oil baron and monopolist who was instrumental in the creation of Corporate America and the rise of wealth inequality. According to the website, this bar 'n grill, hidden in a suburban shopping center, is named after him. Perhaps Zinn's Eats doesn't have the same ring to it.
Anyway, what you'll find upon strolling in is a huge bar with about a dozen televisions on and a roomy dining area. Rockefeller's rather spiffy, vast menu ranges from typical fried munchies, sandwiches, burgers, barbeque and salads to ritzier steak, seafood, and Italian options. Rockefeller's props up their barbeque fare, and being that I'm often in search of the ultimate ribs, I almost went with a half rack, but with my cash flow being a little tight until next Friday, Kay and I got clever.
Enter Rockefeller's dinosaur of a calzone. Hey even they tell ya it's "enough for two," and it is. Only the insane gluttons among ye should tackle this goliath of dough unaided. It comes in several varieties, the one we chose being of the Italian persuasion, meaning its insides were comprised of that Holy Trinity of Italian meats; pepperoni, cappicola, and salami. Tomato sauce, onions, and either mozzarella or provolone cheese (I'm leaning towards mozzarella, but I didn't ask and am not 100% sure) round it out. The fresh dough is brushed with garlic butter just prior to service, making it an instant classic with an inaugural whiff, let alone chomp. Kay and I both swore there was beer involved either in the crust or the sauce since we tasted it throughout.
The flavors and juices gushed out as we attacked with our knives and forks, steamy, tangy, ample meats and sauce overwhelming our palates. A worthy beast, it was not defeated easily.
Our appetizer was downright offbeat. Someone got the idea to take softened red tortilla chips, fill them with peppers and ground beef, fold them over, and serve them with sour cream to dip them in. Mino Tacos are what Rockefeller's calls 'em, and I call 'em a rip snortin' kickstart of a starter. Maybe they'll become the next microwaveable sensation, ruling the frozen foods sections of supermarkets nationwide.
Desserts, like close to everything else Rockefeller's serves, are made in- house, there is a legion of them. Kay got the 7 Layer Cake, I got the Oreo Delight, and we traded off on 'em.
One of the extraordinarily moist cakes ever, The 7 Layer Cake is a luxurious chocolate batter cake with vanilla pudding as mortar and white frosting on stop. It is to make the case for milk as a beverage. Cold milk. Ice cold.
The Oreo Delight is a variation of a dessert I've had a number of times before, and this may be the best incarnation I've had to date. It has the Oreo crust, the mousse-like interiors, the whipped cream. Its texture angelic, its flavor demonic, one could OD on the OD.
You see, restaurants can in fact make their own desserts and make a lot of them. Rockefeller's demonstrates that.
And get this, Amy, our hoot of a waitress and a damn good one at that, told us they were running short on them today. Imagine what they have when they're at full strength dessertwise.
Rockefeller's has been secretly kicking ass in McKees Rocks for 13 years now. Let the ass-kicking be a secret no longer. Guy Fieri, you must come here. I know I want to try those ribs next time. I need a rendezvous with BBQ.
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