Roc-n-Dom’s

Hidden in the strip mall behind Delaware Plaza, Roc-n-Dom’s would be a candidate for a hole-​in-​the-​wall find it it were any good. Upon walking in, my party and I were greeted with the female manager in the middle of a shouting match with someone on her cellphone. She ultimately stormed out. The décor is very much along the same uninspired vein as the pizza place that previously occupied the storefront, only with tables instead of booths. The man working the counter was very friendly and courteous, but that didn’t make the food taste any better. Greasy, greasy, greasy … with a coldish marinara sauce instead of pizza sauce. I wasn’t a big fan of the crust or cheese either. To be fair, both my friends liked the pizza better than I did — and I’ve heard their subs are decent. But I’m not going back to find out.

When a business like a pizzeria gets bought out or taken over but remains a pizzeria, usually little changes but the name. And when you walk into Roc-n-Dom’s for the first time, you’ll instantly recognize it as the corridor-​shaped Pizza Baron 2.0 (not the larger version that was actually inside Delaware Plaza, where I believe the Hallmark store now stands). But you’ll also notice that the new owners have taken it to heart to add a style all their own. Gone are the undecorated booths where now reside tables with tablecloths, complete with salt, pepper & garlic shakers, menus, and – get this – candles. The cashier’s counter and bottled soft drink cooler are just where Baron left them, but you sit at a table and get waited on, and they’ll bring you your beverage in a plastic cup. …I know, unexpected, right?!
If Bellini’s and Andriano’s got together and had a healthy-​sized child, it would look and act like Roc-n-Dom’s. But their meals aren’t summed up so simply.
The pizza is – well, I got pepperoni, and they covered the surface area of the pie with it in a playful matrix, so maybe that’s contributing somewhat – pretty greasy. But I grabbed a few napkins from the counter, sopped it up, and it never soaked through the crust. It was just thick enough to get a bit of dough and to insulate from the pepperoni’s fluids, thin enough to get a satisfying crunch. Condiment man I am, I immediately reached for the garlic an the parmesan cheese brought with the pizza. Garlic went down smooth (which is pretty much expected, but every once in awhile you’ll get a nasty surprise… lookin’ at you, Pizza House!) but the parmesan cheese wasn’t the dried-​up cheese-​flavored pellets I’m used to. Oh no. This looked like it was freshly grated off an actual block of cheese, and tasted accordingly. This place kept surprising me in a great way. I kept waiting to have my first negative experience.
My first negative experience at Roc-n-Don’s came soon after. It was jealousy. I was eating with my parents, and my father ordered an eggplant parmesan sub. The subs in pizzerias are something I often turn my nose up at. If their subs were so good, they’d be a deli. And most of the time I’m right. Then they wheel out what looks like the perfect ratio of sauce and cheese for any parmesan dish, sitting atop a hearty, flaky hoagie roll. I couldn’t see the eggplant, but I could assume it was there in abundance because the bread was visibly incised along the top and stuffed to the gills, like Subway used to do in the 90’s.
I’m giving this four stars because while more than I expected, the food didn’t blow my taste buds out the back of my head, which is my hyperbolically metaphoric requirement for a perfect score. I’ll be back to try a sub and probably again for a calzone, though, and this place is really just on the cusp of getting a five. While not as large, Roc-a-Dom’s might be the closest Delmar will get to having its own Smitty’s. You’ll still probably make the trek to Voorheesville to get the real deal when you crave it, though.