The Meatball Shop

Before we continue with the proceedings, let’s take a detour from meatballs of the homemade variety and reflect on meatballs of the purchased variety.

While preparing for our trip to the Big Apple, Queen Cupcake emailed me to ask where we should eat our actual meals, which is more my domain (she’s really only in it for the cupcakes).  As always, Queen Cupcake’s timing was impeccable.  I had recently read about The Meatball Shop on two of my favorite New York blogs that same week.  Their newest location is in the West Village, or as Queen Cupcake calls it, heaven.  Things were coming together.

We arrived at 8:00 on a Saturday night with the promise of a table in an hour, “but it could be in 15 minutes, you just never know.”  Not to worry, The Meatball Shop has wine.  The three of us cozied up to the bar and started making friends with the Australians sitting next to us.  And two glasses later, when SCL got the text that our table was ready, so were we.

We sat down at the communal table and were promptly given a nice rundown of the balls on the menu.  *Side note-I love a communal table.*  The waitress said the word balls so many times, we started getting uncomfortable.  Admit it–you’re a little uncomfortable now, aren’t you?  And you’ve only read the word balls twice.  Well, now three times.  When you sit down and get that all on the table (forgive the pun) right away, you automatically feel closer to those around you.

After our menu run-down, we hit those laminated suckers up with our dry-erase marker.  Yep, the menu is like a giant to-do list you can check things off of. Type-A-ers everywhere, rejoice!  Queen Cupcake ordered a Meatball Smash, and SCL and I ordered naked balls to share.  Above are my chicken balls with pesto and polenta.  And below are her pork balls with mushroom gravy and risotto.

We weren’t brave enough to try the buffalo chicken balls, but given my penchant for AGOMYR’s buffalo chicken dip (her take on this), those would have been right up my alley.  And for all you vegetarians out there (I’m looking at you, Wooden Nickels), The Meatball Shop has options for you as well.

And when you finish dinner, you get to piece together your own ice cream sandwich.  When Queen Cupcake asked if we could have a different cookie on the top and bottom, the waitress said, “Of course!” as if you’d be crazy not to.

Love that place.