Parm, Little Italy. Walk into this little joint right next to Torissi (who, based on several seconds of research and a lot of assumptions, I believe owns it), you've got a long counter, a narrow passage, and a little spot to order take out. There's a great vibe, good music, conversations bleeding together, smiles, and just the smallest hint of hipster condescension.
I'm not completely sure what was on the rest of the menu. Let's face it, when you walk into a place called Parm, you're eating chicken or meatball. I'm pretty sure in a NYT article, I read meatball was the way to go, so I ordered it and here we are... oh, and then Jay-Z walked in. I figured if anyone knows a good Meatball Parm, it's him... right?
Well, it was pretty awesome. Meatball was surprisingly light, not a typical dense wad of meat. It was cut up to fit neatly on the bread, all the right proportions.
This is a fancy meatball parm, but make no mistake, this is not a dignifying meal. As any other sandwich of the cheese and sauce covered kind, you've got bits falling out left and right. Be aware of the mess you're surely making if you're within a feet of another human being, and be sure to wipe the tomato sauce you no doubt have on your forehead.