Outside of Penn Quarter’s newest eatery, passers-by cannot help but do a double take at the window front of 626 E Street NW, which exclaims “BALLS” in bold-set type. It is only clear on second glance that in fact, “Meatballs,” the restaurant’s actual name, is printed above. If nothing else, Meatballs, the latest venture from Michel Richards, the master chef behind Georgetown’s Citronelle and Penn Quarter’s Central, has an eye-catching advertising strategy. However, beyond its cheeky storefront, Meatballs falls flat in every dimension, from quality to service.
Established to mimic the successful New York City-based restaurant The Meatball Shop, Meatballs attempts to bring simplicity and ease back to the classic Italian dish, which Richards calls “the ultimate happy food.” Meatballs’ menu is based off five meatball variations: Classic, Chicken, Lamb, Crab, and Lentil (and yes, I know, a lentil meatball is an oxymoron). While seemingly a creative way to capitalize on this Italian staple, between Meatballs’ food court aura and airplane-meal dishes, Italian influence is nowhere to be found. Upon stepping up to the counter, dining at Meatballs becomes more like a throwback to one’s middle school cafeteria days. Served on pasta, a sub, or, puzzlingly, a salad, the meatballs’ largest issue is, well, everything—quality, taste, and texture are all lacking. The Classic is decent, though neither delicious nor worth returning for. Meanwhile, the Chicken and Lamb are both overwhelming dry and lacking in flavor.
Doused in marinara sauce, these three are tolerable, but combined with the unusually chewy pasta, Meatballs’ dishes are nothing short of an awful, unsatisfying Italian meal. You know it’s questionable when Leo’s pasta bar starts to look promising. Perhaps the quick service style is to blame. Pasta, after all, shouldn’t be served in a congealed mass after being cooked early in the morning and sitting out all day. You don’t have to be a master chef, or one of the little old pasta ladies at Filomena’s, to come to this conclusion.
Likewise, the Crab and Lentil options, though admirable in their vegetarian-friendly nature, also disappoint. Meatballs ought to take a note from Maryland’s crab fame, as poor quality crabmeat cannot be covered by lumping it into a round ball. The Lentil is not as deplorable, but the savory lentil and bean flavors don’t jibe well with the complimentary marinara or alfredo sauces.
On top of the mediocre offerings on Meatballs’ menu, the restaurant’s poor décor adds to the subpar dining experience. The restaurant gets caught somewhere between the prototypical Italian family eatery—red checkered table cloths and wine served in pitchers—and a bad mall food court. The trendy, exposed brick in the entrance initially gives the feel of a homey and quaint Italian joint, but this vision is quickly negated by everything from the poor customer service to the crappy cardboard dishes and cutlery.
Though Richards proved his culinary expertise at Citronelle, a pillar of class and fine dining in the District, his sublime taste got lost in translation with Meatballs’ quick-serve Italian. While Meatballs strives for an admirable goal—serving Italian classics, in a friendly, fast-paced atmosphere—it fails to meet every expectation built up by that ballsy window display.
