the spaghetti and meatballs at Park Chow. It hits the spot every time (and I've been going for maybe 6 years now ... save for my 3 year absence while in NY). And even though the place does a good job with a bunch of other dishes, as soon as I walk in, all other potentials fly out the window. I know exactly what I'm getting: a small caesar to start and then the chunky monkey of a meatball, plopped on top of a mess of noodles (no the pasta's not homemade, but I don't expect that of a simple neighborhood establishment). Better than mama used to make (the meatballs, that is). Love the crumbly texture, the subtle eye-talian seasoning. And them there's bacon in the sauce. This is the small order.
You get two lovely crumbly balls o' meat when you go for the entree. My South African friend likes it this way: with a pile of fries on top. ("I'm hungry," he said.) Heck. Who am I to argue?