July 24 (Bloomberg) -- When a steakhouse opens in Manhattan, no one blinks. When a steakhouse opens in Brooklyn, people notice. They begin to wonder: Is this the one that will vanquish Peter Luger?

DeStefano's Steakhouse could do just that.

It's in Williamsburg -- just like Luger. It charges $79.89 for a two-person porterhouse -- about a buck cheaper than at Luger.

But there's a problem. DeStefano's isn't really a steakhouse, not in the stereotypical sense. Here's why:

Reason one: The waiters are waitresses.

Gruff male servers are the norm. At Luger and elsewhere, customers get their steak with a side of beef.

At DeStefano's, servers are women. These women are friendly -- all four of them. No need for more; DeStefano's has just 34 seats. Half the wooden chairs face shiny copper-colored curtains. The rest overlook the kitchen and a dessert refrigerator. Wooden tables and floors complete the steakhouse ambience.

Reason two: There's no Caesar salad.

That's right. Also no sliced beefsteak tomatoes and onions. No shrimp cocktail. These staples at nearly every bastion of beef aren't on the menu.

There are replacements. Crab cakes substitute for shrimp; two fat patties cost $11.89. They're sweet from the meat, smoky from chipotle. Five non-Caesar salads are available.

There's also a short-rib spring roll. I'm not sure why.

Reason three: no creamed spinach.

A family-size portion of spinach, creamed and blended to baby-food consistency, is the steakhouse side of choice.

Not available.

Steakhouse Rabe

But DeStefano's does dish up thick cottage fries, a meat- eater staple. It also offers broccoli rabe -- a nicely bitter counterpoint to fatty steak.

Reason four: Steak knifes are nonexistent.

Joe Donatelli, the owner, says you don't need 'em. He's right. Our porterhouse -- comprising the dainty filet and hefty strip -- was tender throughout. The generic knife sufficed.

Joe says the cut is USDA Prime beef, dry-aged and broiled at volcanic temperatures. But it lacked a crunchy, salty char. And it didn't have the signature tang of a well-aged steak.

Reason five: Joe isn't tough enough.

``I'm a filet mignon guy,'' he told us before dinner, but in New York the porterhouse is all that matters. With a bit more heat, a lot of salt and some aging, Joe could have us all eating steak with broccoli rabe and dull knives.

Dinner for two, which included a veal-stuffed skirt steak and two martinis, cost $187.

DeStefano's entrance is at 89 Conselyea St., at Leonard Street, Brooklyn. Information: +1-718-384-2836.

`Creative Roman'

Italian restaurants share a key trait with steakhouses. They don't have to reinvent the wheel. They just have to open.

Then there's Bocca.

The buffalo mozzarella looks safe. It's layered between tomato ``tartare.'' But what's that dark, icy sphere on the side?

Black-olive sorbet.

What does it taste like? Black-olive sorbet.

No, it's not dessert. The carrot sorbet is for dessert. So is the basil panna cotta with tomato coulis.

``Creative Roman cuisine'' is what the owners call their take on Italian. Alessandro Peluso and partner-chef Salvatore Corea are the duo behind Manhattan's Spiga and Cacio e Pepe. Bocca, in the Flatiron District, is the most forward-looking of the three.

Berries With Mussels

Feel like soup?

Corea blends tomatoes with strawberries. The red pulp has a sweet vegetal bite. Fried mussels -- something like briny chicken nuggets -- are scattered in the shallow pool.

Bocca is a small restaurant: 13 seats at the bar up front, 60 in the dining room. Dark orange and mustard walls mimic the colors of your sorbet and soup.

Not everything veers toward the avant-garde.

Pasta cacio e pepe is tossed tableside in a hollowed-out pecorino-romano wheel; the tonnarelli mingles with cheese sauce and spicy black pepper. ``Badly cut'' noodles (mine were cut perfectly) sop up monkfish ragout with olives and capers.

How about a digestif?

Tiny cubes of gelatin are dotted with espresso beans. Pop one in your mouth. First the anise hits. Is it licorice? No. Then the alcohol burn gets you. Aha -- sambuca.

Our dinner for two, including two drinks each, cost $127.

Bocca is at 39 E. 19th St., between Park Avenue South and Broadway. Information: +1-212-387-1200.

(Ryan Sutton is a writer for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this story: Ryan Sutton in New York at rsutton1@bloomberg.net.

Last Updated: July 24, 2007 00:03 EDT