Meatball Shop: Mercifully, the Ball Puns Were Kept to a Minimum

Location: Bedford Ave between 7th and 8th St.

Freshman year of college we were on our way to Vermont with my roommates, and I was scrolling through her iPod. Usually, this is a stressful activity for me because my musical knowledge is limited to top 40 hits and dance tracks of dubious quality--specifically reggaeton. I love reggeaton. But then, I stumbled upon gold. I didn't hesitate because I knew this would be an instant hit. That's right: I had found Ja Rule's "Always on Time." And so, we were bopping (is that the appropriate verb for Ja?) along for all of twenty-six seconds when the song just ended. I was living the dream, and then I faced a rude awakening. As it turned out, my roommate had gone through a phase when she was in high school where she cut all her songs to about that length because she knew she had music ADD and wouldn't listen to more than a few seconds of them anyway. If anything, I admire her follow-through. But anyway, Ja Rule has been on my mind ever since.

Fortunately, on Friday night, while driving to the Meatball Shop, we realized that Ja Rule was the perfect artist to listen to--in that he was a rapper from when we were in middle school (the time inaccurately referred to as "the nineties")--would be appropriate. Basically, the night devolved into my friend intermittently yelling "MURDA," and everyone else dissolving into a fit of giggles. It never got old. Later, when we were pulling out of our spot and the song wouldn't load, the need for Ja became more urgent. But apparently, we're not the first to go through this:

But IS there such a thing as a question to which 

Ja Rule might not have an answer?

But, oh yeah, this post is about a restaurant, and not a rapper. Finally, we arrived at Meatball Shop at two in the morning. it's strange thing to be telling a hostess that you have a party of four at that hour. The decor, as in all the eateries I attend, was superior--there were old-timey photos on the walls of Mr. and Mrs. Meatball, those lamps in which you can see the filaments that are so popular these days, a long bar, and just a cozy atmosphere.  I'm not an interior decorator and my vocabulary is limited, but I hear a picture's worth a thousand words:

Obviously, this lighting is irresistible.

The menus are laminated so you mark your selection there--on one hand it's awesome because you feel empowered, on the other hand, I'm empowered enough in my own kitchen (move along. No gender rights catastrophe to see here). In any case, apparently our selections weren't clear because we had to reiterate them anyway. The selection process was rough--I just went with the classic meatball with tomato sauce, but others had the bacon, pork, and cheese meatball, the spicy pork, and all uniformly ordered spicy meat sauce. You know, meat with a side of meat. We actually got a good sampling of their products--the slider, forever alone meatball on a bun; the naked balls, meatballs in a bowl; and the hero, which came with a salad, because greens are an important part of one's diet at two in the morning. The meatballs were good, which is to say, they tasted like quality ground meat; the bread, fresh; the parmesan, just right. Basically, there's a reason they're open until four in the morning. They know their product's audience.