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Review
Sammy's Roumanian Steak House is shtick incarnate. Think, traditional Bar or Bat Mitzvah experience complete with an 80 year old DJ/MC who's impressive vocal range switches from Hava Naglia, to Lady GaGlia's Poker Face in the most hilarious remix this side of the 1990's. With a Casio PX-130, a microphone, and some laminated pages of billboard's top 40, the "MC" takes extreme pleasure in amusing falling down drunk, fist pumping, and "I love you man" screaming Guidos and Guidets, as they bask in their moment of intoxicated glory. Because don't worry folks, Sammy's Famous Romanian Restaurant doesn't discriminate. They welcome any jovial mitzvah however appropriate or inappropriate for having streamers on the ceiling: Including, but not limited to birthdays, bachelorette parties, or celebratory group gatherings of some other kind. And, who loves celebratory group gatherings of any kind that include streamers on the ceiling more than anyone else in the world?? Jersey! So come prepared to see a lot, (I mean a lot) of inebriated train wrecks who will inevitably have accidental sex with their second cousin after their visit to this place.
Let me begin by saying that there are two positives that I will take from my experience at "Sammy's Famous Romanian Restaurant." The first being that I myself have never been to a full-fledged mitzvah (be it bar or bat etc.) and I am thankful for the cultural experience. The second being that they provide table service with a well endowed bottle of Kettle One vodka frozen inside of a giant ice-cube. Four bottles later you almost forget the horror that had previously ensued. If you google image "Sammy's Famous Romanian Restaurant" an assortment of pictures will pop up that are supposed to represent what one should expect when visiting this place of wondrous misery. Do not be fooled by these venus flytraps. Instead, please refer to the pictures that I have posted above, as an honest account of what you will get should you decide to go there. To be fair I should say that traditional Romanian food is certainly not my expertise. In fact, I'm not sure that I've ever knowingly consumed traditional Romanian food, but as a serious food enthusiast, I'm up for anything new. That said; this might possibly have been the worst meal I have ever had in my entire life.
I came with a party of ten. Initially, I appreciated the ridiculous scene, and then they set down the schmaltz (aka: Chicken Fat) in a gravy pour along with the rest of the cocktail mixers. I almost mistakenly poured said shmaltz into my vodka as freshly squeezed orange juice. A part of me wishes I had because then it would have certainly been over for me, and I wouldn't have had to endure the rest of the meal, which came family style. There was no choice that I'm aware of. We just put faith in our waiter to bring us something delicious. First came the pickles. I'm not going to knock the pickles. I feel like they could have been slightly more pickled pickles but compared to everything else, they were perfectly fine. Next was the liver. Wow. The liver came in a giant ball on a wooden slab. It was dumped into a metal mixing bowl with sliced (not chopped, or diced, but sliced) onions. He topped it off with a golden shower of schmaltz and mixed it together with a fork. The whole presentation literally made me lose my appetite, because as we all know, as delicious as liver may be, it strongly resembles cat food. Maybe it was the most delicious liver in the universe, but I couldn't even bring myself to taste it. And then my eyes lit up when I realized they were bringing stuffed cabbage over to our table. Despite the non-descript meat jiggling inside, I took an enthusiastic bite which I couldn't even swallow. It was that bad. Coupled with the liver memory, it all was a bit too much for me to take. I was somewhat saved by the home fried potatoes and the latkes (even though I've definitely had better). By the time the "steak" got there I had forgotten that this place is apparently a "steak house" and nothing about it had aided in triggering my memory. The dessert/egg cream was certainly an amusing part of the evening. The waiter put a 1/2-gallon of milk on the table with some Hershey's syrup and a vintage bottle of seltzer along with 3 glasses in a row. He stood on a chair and with terrible aim poured the milk into the 3 glasses. He then sprayed the 3 glasses (and the face of the guy sitting next to me) with seltzer and dumped the Hershey's syrup all over the egg creams and the table.
Normally, I wouldn't be making such a big deal about this place. I mean clearly they're not striving to be a four star restaurant, so there's no reason to take it seriously. Maybe, except our bill was $1400. Any amusement I might have been secretly harboring disintegrated once I realized I would be paying $140 for the worst meal of all time. If I wanted to eat cat food and watch morons flail around to a "Pour Some Sugar on Me" chorus led by someone's grandfather for $140, I would go to the Olive Garden in Times Square and catch a "Rock Of Ages" show on Broadway. All I can say is thank God I snuck an extra "free" T-shirt for my boyfriend... He really likes Schmaltz.
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namesake
St. Christina was the daughter of a rich and powerful magistrate named Urbain. Her father, who was deep in the practices of heathenism, had a number of golden idols, which our saint destroyed, and distributed the pieces among the poor. Infuriated by this act, Urbain became the persecutor of his daughter. He had her whipped with rods and then thrown into a dungeon. Christina remained unshaken in her faith. Her tormentor then had her body torn by iron hooks, and fastened her to a rack beneath which a fire was kindled. But God watched over His servant and turned the flames upon the lookers-on. Christina was next seized, a heavy stone tied around her neck, and she was thrown into the lake of Balsena, but she was saved by an angel, and outlived her father, who died of spite. Later, this martyred suffered the most inhuman torments under the judge who succeeded her father, and finally was thrown into a burning furnace, where she remained, unhurt, for five days. By the power of Christ, she overcame the serpents among which she was thrown; then her tongue was cut out, and afterwards, being pierced with arrows, she gained the martyr's crown at Tyro, a city which formerly stood on an island in the lake of Balsena in Italy, but was long since swallowed up by the waters. Her relics are now atPalermo in Sicily.
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genetics
