There has been a recurring pattern of late, in that every time I sit down to write a blog post I don’t, in essence, write a blog post. I fanny about on my phone looking at houses that I’ll never afford, wedding dresses would never in a million years look good on me and the yawn-a-thon of rubbish that is spurted out by Facebook. And then from time to time my two avid readers remind me I haven’t blogged since 31st March. So the cycle begins again… I wonder if I’ll finish this post.
I’ve got a good back-logged range of photos clogging up my phone at the moment so I’m going to work my way back from the most recent. Balls.
Yes, balls balls balls! Everyone loves balls don’t they? Meatballs are the wonderful simple and cheap comfort food that can be whipped up at home pretty quickly and look bloody awesome in photos (here’s one I Instagrammed a while ago). So it seems logical that the one dish wonder menu fad that is happening at the moment has arrived at meatballs.
We became 3rd in the queue when we arrived at 6.20 last Thursday at Balls and Company on Greek Street; they’ve got an agreement with the pub across the road so you can buy drinks from them while you wait. It was probably about a 30 minute wait.
Once seated we nibbled on the parsnip shavings that were brought to the table while we pretended to read the menu despite knowing exactly what we wanted but just not wanted to order and finish too quickly.
On to the balls. Wagyu balls with Romesco sauce first, served lovely and pink with not too much sauce as to drown the taste of the beef – I do wonder if there is any point in using such high quality beef for meatballs, but maybe I’m just an old cynic. The pork, ricotta, Parmesan, piney nut, basil and sage balls with benchmark sauce were lush. That’s my kind a ball, porky and creamy. A side of spaghetti and polenta chips were ordered as well – both of which were good.
I’d seen the weird granny hair dessert thing on Instagram more times that I care to admit so it had to be ordered. It was a heavy, rich walnut laden brownie with gorgeous vanilla ice cream and ‘pulled’ candy floss which was great. It does go down as the weirdest looking dessert though.
At £60 – it’s not the most expensive dinner Marine and I have had in town when we have our catch ups, but neither is it the cheapest. Lovely food, good service and not being rushed despite the queue mean I would definitely go back. I’m a sucker for a meatball. Bring on the sausage, mash and gravy restaurant…. I’ll be first in the queue.
