Ballin' with Bobby

Off-season trips to the Borgata are the best. Lower table minimums. Smaller crowds. WaWa 72-ounce-coffee-and-egg-biscuit binges on the drive back home. Last night, Borgata threw us a bone (finally) with trip 10s at 3-card poker with quarters bet down the board. Smarter people would have cut and run, but being responsible journalists, we at Blogalicious took the booty and did a lil celebratory research at Bobby Flay Steak. There were big shirazes and bloody filets, flirty hostesses and heavy knives. It was very Boiler Room, except without the hookers and coke. But the leprechaun-chef's AC foray certainly has substance to back up its style. The dry-rubs are sick, enveloping the steaks in spicy crusts that lock in their meaty essence, while the signature Bobby Flay steak sauce is a heady blend of brown sugar, honey, chilies, and spices that's a symphonic hot-sweet cyclone that whirls across your tastebuds like an F-5 across a Kansas prarie. Sides included beefy mushrooms and sweet pearl onions, crisp frites, and a killer baked potato smashed with scallions, crème fraiche, and goat cheese for the ultimate diet murderer. Some other highlights from past meals at the David Rockwell-designed cowboy-cool corrall: the verdant lobster-avocado salad with a forest of cilantro and watercress; the breezy blue crab-and-coconut milk cocktail; the Louisiana filet with crawfish and Béarnaise; mile-high chocolate cake layered with boozy butterscotch; kick-ass key lime pie; the best bitter-chocolate baked Alaska this side of Juneau. We might not have a Borgata black card, but for the night, we definitely felt like high rollers.

Photo: Borgata

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