Firstly, a word on courtesy – I contacted Zeppoli via their general “Message Us” inbox from their website. In the email I’ve drafted for this occasion, I tried to make it pretty clear that there is no chance of my review conjuring up any additional patronage as I am both a culinary and internet nobody. However, I figured that every now and then a staff member would respond just to thank me for contacting them ahead of my visit. And who responded from Zeppoli?.. Chef/owner Joseph Baldino. Not only did he respond, but he went as far as to recommend dishes for me to try and offer to personally make my reservation. So, needless to say, I had the feely-feels for Zeppoli right off the rip. It was kind of like that moment when my wife and I met for the first time and, during conversation, said the same made-up word at the same time, thus launching us onto a married-with-children trajectory. And while I didn’t get quite the same spark when I read Chef Joe’s email, it was a nice precursor to the wonderful and attentive service, my wife and I received during our dinner.
Zeppoli was the most recommended restaurant during my canvassing of the local Facebook community, and for multiple different dishes. During my visit, I tried the antipasti platter, the panzanella, two different gnocchis (spinach and sausage), and pesto fusilli on my food journey to the main event. I commented to my wife that, at that point, I could already have chosen a dish to write about as “Collingswood 10” dish. But then our server brought out the shining jewel of my food journey: The Bistecca Enna.
To be honest, it’s really difficult to impress me with steak. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good steak. It’s just that I’ve had so many that when I have a good one it just gets lumped into that upper tier of the 100s of other good steaks I’ve had. I’m left completely satisfied but typically un-amazed. There’s also the element of my wife being an environmentalist and vegetarian. Because of that I tend to think about her cringingly reading through a meaty review and therefore I sometimes favor vegetarian dishes, or at least seafood or chicken. Cows just have a kinder soul than do chickens or fish – a warm, delicate, sumptuous, pink-centered soul.
True-to-form, the server brought out the steak and I thought to myself, “Yum, another good steak.” Naively, I had the audacity to make a mental note that the sear in the center of the ribeye could have been harder – as if I’d come back to that note as a means to disqualify the dish. As occurred the moment after my first bite, I will have no further negative commentary about the Bistecca Enna (can I call you Enna? Great, thank you). I sliced into that crusty edge, sectioning off a first bite deep enough to get the perfectly pink center with it. I let it rest on my tongue for a few extra seconds, the wonderfully ample seasoning nestled there and I briefly forgot that chewing was an essential part of this experience. Momentarily, my tastebuds foolishly believed to have found paradisal eternity. I snapped back to reality and sunk my teeth into Enna.
Somehow buttery doesn’t quite tell the full story. Sure, the bite was juicy, the meat was succulent and the punch of umami was a strong one, but there was something more to it. It was as if there existed a state of matter between liquid and gas. The bite produced a buttery mini-flood on my tongue and a gaseous umami halo, which tantalized the roof of my mouth, but there existed activity in-between those layers as well. Tiny non-liquid, non-gas butter particulates hovered there, suspendedly clasping the moment to simultaneous flavor and savor.
It is my opinion that Chef Joe has discovered a way to scientifically bond butter directly to the steak fiber molecules. This is no endeavor or simple pan basting – no way. Truejest laboratories measured the butter content of this steak to be, legally, 40%. That’s 12.7% above what is generally accepted to be the absolute saturation mark, according to metrics I made up while writing this sentence. I’m not sure how Chef Joe achieved this but I am willing to conduct additional research to find out. With all of this talk of butter and succulence, you may be thinking: that’s a little too savory to be harmoniously balanced. Chef Joe has it handled. The accompanying arugula and tomato salad’s light but punchy dressing and seasoning is a perfect marriage with that natural pepperiness. It’s a tangy slap in the face that resets your tastebuds just enough for you to long for that enveloping beef oasis once again, and that cycle repeats until your steak is done, Zen having been achieved. Lastly, while not part of the specific dish, I have to acknowledge the masterful bread basket that my wife and I tried and failed to not eat all of. Listen, if you put bread on the table, I’m going to eat it. You really don’t need to try too hard for me. Chef Joe said, “Damn that! How many different types of focaccias can I jam into this basket? You know what? Put a breadstick on it to. F&k it.” The sweet pepper and ricotta one was my personal favorite.
To my wonderful wife, Megan, I’d like to say sorry for perpetuating a meaty lifestyle. You know I’m trying to do better. My apologies to the cow that was harmed for the sake of this review. You were a gentle soul and I’m sure noble, loving and well-respected in your community. Chef Joe, caringly made you into a work of art. In Enna, your memory will be long-lasting and delectable.

*Absolute saturation: The point where a steak says to butter: “Ok, that’s enough. You’ve made your goddamned point.”

Verdict: 10 out of 10