First There Was Fine Dining
Before the meatball, Holzman devoted his days to preparing elegant food. At age 15, he interned at the world-famous Le Bernardin in New York City. Holzman would come after school to watch. "After some time, I was allowed to bring fish from the refrigerator so that it could be seasoned," he says. "I opened oysters, cleaned calamari and eventually worked up to frying the calamari." Four years later, Eric Ripert, the renowned chef, recommended that Holzman attend The Culinary Institute of America, which Holzman did with a full scholarship from The James Beard Foundation. Holzman has also worked for Jean-Louis Palladin at Palladin in New York City and Palladin's restaurant, Napa, in the Rio Suite Hotel in Las Vegas. The move to the West Coast prompted a 10-year journey of working in some of Los Angeles' and San Francisco's finest restaurants including The Campton Place, The Fifth Floor, Aqua and Jardinière.

In 2004, Holzman became the chef of the organic bistro, Axe, in Los Angeles followed by an executive-chef position at the Inn of the Seventh Ray, a 250-seat restaurant in the Topanga hills. In 2007, he moved to San Francisco to open SPQR, a Roman-inspired osteria, as co-owner and executive chef. Within three months of opening, the San Francisco Chronicle gave SPQR three-and-a-half stars.

Despite his early success, Holzman knew that formal restaurants did not provide the lifestyle he wanted. "Fine dining can cause a certain amount of stress," says Holzman. "When I was working in super fancy restaurants, I had anxiety. Finally, I had to ask myself, what do I want? With whom do I want to spend time? How do I want to spend my time?"

With these questions in mind, Holzman realized that most cooks in the fine-dining world had a difficult lifestyle—long hours, hard work and low pay. "Sure, Jean-Georges Vongerichten probably has a great lifestyle," he says. "But I am not presumptuous enough to think that I would ever reach his status. I was worried about that echelon below the Jean Georges' where the lifestyle is not so good." Holzman also noticed that when one operates a "chef driven" restaurant, it is difficult for the chef to ever step away. "If the chef left to open a second restaurant, the quality faltered."

So What to Do?
Holzman decided to create a business that was fun with an environment where there wasn't much screaming. This meant developing a concept that could do three things. "First, I wanted a satisfying lifestyle," he says. "Second, I wanted to offer quality food that was consistent whether I was there or not, and third, I wanted to offer value." Holzman does not agree with the current philosophy of charging more for sustainable food. "People believe that if you serve healthy food it's worth more," he says. "I think if you are going to truly compete, you have to compete on all levels, including price. I want to offer good, sustainable food for an excellent value."  Holzman points out that one can go to an upscale restaurant and pay $24 for a bowl of pasta or come to The Meatball Shop and pay $4. "It's the same pasta," he says. "It's made with the same care and quality, but instead of selling 14 pasta dinners, we sell 200. Our strength is in the volume." And in fact, the most expensive thing on The Meatball Shop's menu is $9.

The narrow focus might seem confining to some, but The Meatball Shop offers a mix-and-match menu with five kinds of 2-ounce balls, five sauces and plenty of sides. There are daily specials of risotto, market salad, ice-cream sandwiches and more. Food sources are listed, all meat is ground in-house and the ice cream and sweet apple iced tea are housemade. Customers love it.

What's So Funny?
The hip eatery encourages a vibrant, friendly atmosphere by positioning a long communal table down the center of the shop. Ball humor abounds. The Meatball Shop's Web site is complete with sounds of passed gas and double-entendre ball jokes. Complementary dishes are served "either under your balls or on the side." Laughter is important to Holzman, and the playful menu makes people smile. "Good food is only one piece of the puzzle," he says. "We want everybody, including the staff, to have a good time. If the staff is happy, the customers are happy."

Holzman is more than pleased with the way his business concept has panned out. "I never wanted to be in a situation where a review meant everything, where my sense of self had to be defined by a review. It's too much pressure," he says. "When I left refined cuisine, I thought I was giving up that kind of career path and the respect that went along with it, but it did not work out that way." Now, at age 32, Holzman is having fun in a stress-free work environment and he and his partner have received a multitude of media attention and positive reviews. "It's a miracle," Holzman says.

And his lifestyle now? Holzman admits that he still works long hours. "That's what I do," he says. With two new locations getting ready to open (Williamsburg, Brooklyn and Greenwich Village) and a cookbook in the works, there is much to do. "I have been blessed with a very busy and successful business." So busy that The Meatball Shop is always hiring. "Come on down," he says. "We're having a good time."

Lynn Schwartz, a former New York City restaurateur, is a writer based in Maryland.