When last we
left my colleague and BFF Amanda, I had bid her farewell on the subway, as she
returned to Queens with some 12 dozen homemade Twinkies and Ding Dongs under
her arm.
After that,
I went to Oregon – without her. She went
to Germany – without me. And, then we
came to the conclusion that it had been weeks since we’d seen each other, so we
booked a lunch date.
Truth be
told, Amanda actually cancelled a lunch date with someone else to have lunch
with me. I was honored and I have no
idea who she blew off, or what excuse she gave.
We decide that a little food trucking is in order. It’s our very first food truck date and it’s my
job to get a fix on our options. After a frustration morning learning that none
of the “greats” are in the neighborhood (am I EVER going to have a meal at the
Mac Truck?) I get a hot lead on a sidewalk cart that’s been around for about a
year, but is new to me – MTBLLS NYC.
That’s
MEATBALLS, folks, if you include the vowels.
My pulse begins to race, and the choice is settled before I even lock my
computer screen and head towards the elevators. When I meet Amanda in the lobby
and tell her the plan, she practically swoons with delight.
“I’m dressed
very “Ladies Who Lunch,” so how exciting to be dining at a food truck,” says
Amanda breezily. Indeed, the tasteful silver brooch and heels are sure to be
the envy of Food Truck Alley. My food
truck cronies always seem to be dressed to the nines.
“This is
better than lunch at Saks,” she adds.
We take a brisk
walk through the underground promenade in the Rockefeller Center area and
emerge on 47th Street heading towards Park Avenue. This route takes us through the Diamond
District and Amanda is immediately distracted.
She points to a glittering “rock” in the window the size of a lollypop.
“You’ll buy
me one of these after lunch, won’t you?” she smiles.
Not without
a trip to the ATM, sweetheart.
We soldier
on and as we near Park Avenue, we can see a caravan of garish food trucks
glittering in the distance. It’s almost
like when Dorothy, the Scarecrow, Tin Man and the Lion approached the city of
Oz.
MTBLLS NYC
is a smart, cherry red food cart painted with the ballsy slogan “We got balls.”
Our choice
is either beef, chicken or veggie balls.
We queue up and each request a Bowl of Balls – beef please.
Here’s where
we hit a momentary snag. They are all
out of beef meatballs. For a second I
fear that Amanda is going to break ranks and defect to the Lebanese truck
around the corner.
“No beef??”
she asks, her voice sounding a little pinched.
I try to
talk her off the ledge. “It is almost
1:20 PM,” I try to rationalize. “I’m
not surprised they’re out of beef balls.
It’s their most popular item, and the real food truck pros usually line
up by 11:45 AM.”
“I see,” she
says, taking a deep breath and processing the information. “I’m a novice here. I guess we’ll have to deal.”
So, we each
order a Bowl of Chicken Balls. Hers are
bathed in marinara sauce. Mine are
dressed with Romesco sauce, a lively red pepper sauce from Catalonia,
Spain. Each serving is topped with a
dollop of ricotta.
The first
thing we notice is that the “bowl of balls” actually comes in a cardboard
box. If you use your imagination, those
sharp, angular edges suddenly become rounded.
She tastes the frozen yogurt, and her tone changes.
"This is delicious! It can't be fat free. Do you think it's really fat-free yogurt, or are we in that "Seinfeld" episode now?"
