Joseph's to Bridgeport
by Joe Miksch - July 17, 2003
Joseph's Steakhouse Joseph's is the very picture of a steakhouse. Deep red walls, a lot of dark wood. It's a manly environment in which to consume the most manly of foodstuffs, the beefsteak.
Garrett and I, being men and having wives who were engaged in getting liquored up with their cadre of lady friends and thereby left to our own devices, chose Joseph's as the place in which to enjoy our evening repast sans Karen and Colleen. We made a damn good decision.
I smoke--Garrett has quit and gone all Mr. Pink
Lungs on me--so we sat at a table in the bar area. A group of guys occupied about half the stools and the other tables in the section were filled with diners awaiting their meat. The main dining area was sparsely populated, but considering it was fairly early on a Wednesday evening, Joseph's had drawn a rather respectable crowd, a good sign.
It didn't take long to meet proprietor and gray-haired, bow-tied bon vivant Joseph Kustra. A Croatian immigrant and former waiter and maitre d'herte at the venerable Peter Luger's Steakhouse in Brooklyn, Kustra came to Bridgeport in 2000 at the behest of former Mayor Joe Ganim. The two met after Kustra opened his first restaurant, Ye Olde Tollgate Steakhouse, in Mamaroneck, N.Y., in 1995.
They say the way to a mayor's heart is by stuffing his stomach with U.S.D.A. aged prime beef--in Ganim's case, stuffing his wallet helped some folks as well--and Ganim, apparently pleased by Kustra's steak wizardry, pestered the restaurateur to come to the Park City. Carnivores should be glad Kustra did.
T hough intrigued by the certainty of death-by-meat inherent in the individual consumption of the $116 steak for four, I picked the humble $29.25 single steak as my entrée. Garrett opted for the filet mignon with mushrooms, priced at $29.50. Suffering from a lack of starch as I am on the Atkins diet by proxy by virtue of Colleen's eating habits, I ordered a $4.75 baked Idaho potato as well.
With time to kill and bellies to fill prior to the receipt of our meat, Garrett and I opted for appetizers. In his case, the $7.75 herring with sour cream. In mine, the $15.25 jumbo shrimp cocktail. I wish I could remember the name of the $55 (about average price-wise on the extensive wine list) bottle of French red wine we shared. In any event, whatever it was that came out of bin 256 was an uncommon delight.
Now everything we ordered, save for the wine, of course, was simply prepared, and when you're dealing with food of such high quality this is a virtue. The herring and shrimp were devoured with dispatch then we awaited the main event: broiled meat.
My steak came to the table sizzling and, though it was still attached to the bone, conveniently pre-sliced. All the better to facilitate the quick enjoyment of the aged beef. Seared on the outside and a cool juicy red in the middle, this was a formidable piece of beef that defied adulteration. The diner who would opt to sauce this steak in any manner should be consigned to dining at McDonald's for the remainder of his years.
Garrett's fillet was soft, plump and properly pink in the middle. Tender and substantial, the filet quickly went the way of my steak: directly down the gullet. Yes, we chewed and, yes, we savored, but there's something primal about eating a medium-rare steak that forces one to put on the breaks and masticate lest it be devoured whole.
Throughout the meal, Kustra was pleasantly attentive and genial. At one point, apparently interested in our political conversation, he even pulled up a seat and joined us. Garrett eventually put Kustra on the phone with a friend of his who helped rebuild war-ravaged homes in Kustra's part of the world. The pair chatted amiably in Croatian, at least I think it was Croatian as I am barely monolingual. Such interaction with customers, especially when done in the easy, non-intrusive-yet-participatory manner as by Kustra, added a familial aspect to the wonderful dining experience.
The only disappointment was that Joseph's had no slivovitz in stock. This eastern European plum brandy deftly combines full fruit flavor with a hint of kerosene. It's much more delicious than it sounds and puts a nice coda on a hearty meal. Kustra promised he'd have a little slivo on hand next time we came around. And that's a promise I believe, coming from him.
As Ganim went down in flames, supporters praised him for erecting a ballpark and an arena and putting a better face on long downtrodden Bridgeport.
To Garrett and myself, these accomplishments pale in comparison to his luring Kustra to Fairfield Avenue. Mr. Ganim, may you age as well in federal prison as Kustra's steaks have prior to their being broiled and served at Joseph's Steakhouse.
