Photo: Talia Simhi

Prodigious restaurateur Jeffrey Chodorow collects chefs the way Henry Kravis collects Old Masters, with an enviable eye for cooking talent—Alain Ducasse, Rocco DiSpirito, Todd English—even if all of these partnerships have resulted in highly visible flameouts. His latest acquisition, Zak Pelaccio, has the requisite skills, and an uphill challenge: taking the cursed Rocco’s space and distilling the breadth of New York cuisine into a single restaurant, Borough Food & Drink.

Pelaccio is a good fit. While best known as the city’s undisputed god of Malaysian cooking, thanks to Fatty Crab, he previously wowed at another spot with eclectic fare—5 Ninth—and has conceived an encyclopedic menu for Borough consistent with Chodorow’s pro-choice philosophy: overwhelm with options, even at the expense of focus. Same goes for the 30 New York microbrews and the New York–heavy wine list.

BF&D cheeseburger with caper aoili

Photo: Talia Simhi

Most of the fun was clearly had sourcing the food, which represents purveyors across the city, as well as a few upstate, both the obvious (Yonah Schimmel knishes, Russ and Daughters herring, Faicco’s Italian sausage) and obscure (roasted duck from East Corner Wonton, a dump I trek to religiously after my weekly basketball game in Chinatown). Mark Zeff’s design, which stamps out Rocco’s white tiles in favor of an expensive veneer of salvaged wood from piers and abandoned factories, looks more Old West than Old New York, as do the general store-style shelves that display ingredients diners can purchase for home.

Unfortunately, Pelaccio does not oversee the kitchen on a nightly basis, leaving Chodorow veteran Paul Williams in charge. No Fatty Crab epiphanies from him. The most distinguishing thing about Borough’s food, besides provenance, is a leaden quality, exemplified by two puerile concoctions: mac and cheese fried into a pancake shape, served with maple syrup; and deep-fried, schmaltz-dipped pickles. Both are as delicious, and disgusting, as they sound.

And those are just side dishes, designed to accompany a kielbasa Reuben or a foot-long hot dog slathered in Sikorski sauerkraut. It’s hard to order anything here that doesn’t prompt belt-loosening. Sometimes it’s worth it: The decent matzo ball, made from Katz’s matzo meal, tastes of cinnamon, and has the kind of fluffy-dense texture that’s been hard to find since the Second Avenue Deli lost its lease. Often, the heft isn’t justified: An unwieldy clam flatbread delivers the mollusks still shelled, atop a red sauce that’s far too sugary and a crust that’s overwhelmed by salt. Too many dishes—bland, puck-size oysters Rockefeller; fried pork dumplings with a spicy vinegar-and-chili dipping sauce—fall somewhere in between.

I was most impressed with the sandwiches, including an expectedly large, unexpectedly moist burger, the sweet meat complemented by caper aioli; and an excellent cevape, kind of a Balkan gyro, with beef sausages that stick out like fingers from a pressed pita smothered with clotted kajmak cream.

Decent main courses not involving bread included eggplant lasagna, and rigatoni and sausage, both festooned with cheese and competently executed (chef Williams worked at English Is Italian). But it’s hard to justify coming here for pasta, even good pasta, when there are so many great restaurants that specialize in it. Ditto for almost any cuisine, whether Asian, Jewish or Italian. Borough Food & Drink effectively apes most culinary traditions, and would strike me as a great concept outside of New York. Here, it’s like a tribute band seeking attention when the original group still jams next door. Even given the reasonable prices, it’s not worth eating here if Pelaccio’s not cooking.