Though I wouldn’t call myself an expert on all things food, I’d like to think I know a thing or two about good Italian. That said, all the meatball subs I’ve eaten to this point in my life have ranged from terrible to somewhat mediocre. It is for this reason that I put my relatively healthy eating habits on hold, as I search for Miami’s best meatball sub. Either I’m going to find one that I deem satisfactory, or I’m going clog every artery in my body trying. And now, it’s time to scour the greater Miami area, and find out exactly… Who’s Got Balls?
Restaurant: DiSalvo’s (Hollywood, FL)
Food can be one of the greatest creations of man the world has ever known. If prepared correctly, by properly trained individuals, using just the right amount of flavor and seasonings, it can bring about world peace. I’m sure of it. However, with every yin comes a yang, and that yang would seem to be DiSalvo’s.
Placing my order over the phone, I should’ve seen the signs that things weren’t going to go so smoothly on this night. A meatball sub for only $5.25? This seemed too good to be true. And when the nice lady on the phone quoted me a price of $6.75, I realized that it seemed too good to be true because it was. Apparently, the paper menu I was ordering from, was from 1987, when gas was 98 cents and a movie at Aventura Mall cost less than my two-week pay check.
Why, exactly, do people keep those paper menus at their house anyway. Usually, they’re from the places you get take-out from most of the time, anyway, so odds are, you know exactly what they have. When was the last time you needed to look at a menu to order a quart of lo mein and a side of chicken fried rice? Christ, I have Papa John’s on speed dial and they know my order by heart.
After 20 minutes of waiting, I drove down the block to pick up my sub and bring it back to the friendly confines of my girlfriend’s house, where I would soon put it out of its mysery. Now, usually, when I’m driving home with piping hot food, the aroma performs a hostile takeover of the inside of my car like a gang of Samali pirates. Not so, this time. This wasn’t going to be good.
Enough of this build up. Let’s get to the sandwich.
I could tell just from looking at it, that it wasn’t going to be a winner. The bread was still a light shade of beige and softer than a gay man at a bachelor party. This is completely unacceptable. Any meatball sub worth its ground beef is toasted to the brink of fucking carbon. At no point should I be able to gently squeeze the bread; it’s not Charmin.
But, I can get past that, I suppose.
You know what I can’t get past, though? Congealed cheese, that’s what. And flavorless meatballs. And a lack of oregano. Ya know, for a place named after a guy with a mafia name, I expected a semi-decent sub, but all I got from DiSalvo’s was a half-assed attempt at the sorriest meatball sub I’ve ever eaten. I’d give this restaurant an F, but I’m saving that honor for Subway.
Final Grade: D-
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