I take my rings off. I gently slide my clean dry hands, fingers held together, to the bottom of the enamel bowl. The bowl itself makes me happy, white and slightly chipped on the inside, bright ’70s orange on the outside, the largest mixing bowl I have. It was my mother Cathie’s, saved for me by my adopted mother Susan. I think my mom used it to make dough. I’m using it to make meatballs, to go with spaghetti and warmed sauce from a jar for dinner.
My hands scoop up the mixture I made from buttermilk, breadcrumbs, grated garlic and parmesan, salt and pepper and fold it into the ground beef and pork I bought from local farmers. I fold again until the swirls of white blend into the pink. I stop while there’s still some striation.
I wash my hands and fetch a plate, strong stoneware, a wedding gift from my mother’s mother. I return to the mixture, this time with just one hand, keeping the other clean. I shape almost-spheres the size of two walnuts, bringing the form together with a light touch. It’s a subtle feeling, enough firmness to keep the meatballs together and gentleness to keep them tender.
The meatballs fry in olive oil in a cast iron pan and I try not to bother them too much. When they’re brown I use tongs to flip them and brown some more, then slide my extra-thin fish spatula underneath to unstick the sticky ones and transfer them to the simmering sauce. Their crust keeps their shape now as they soak in the tomato like bathers in a bubbling hot spring, fat slowly melting and reforming as pools on the surface of the sauce.
I love meatballs and the labor of love that goes into them, but I would never make them for myself, or for a ladies’ weekend or dinner party. They are family dinner food. My hungry teenage son is the primary customer, and he usually has seconds. I make enough to freeze some so we have an extra easy dinner to heat and eat. I boil broccoli briefly in the pasta water and remove it before adding spaghetti so we have something green to go with the meal.
The process of shaping each meatball gives me time to reflect about the other shapes I’m creating in my life. After three years of open exploration, I’m focusing my dreams on one big idea: a platform for women to support each other with shared experiences, inspiration, and resources. The idea is more defined than it has been, yet still unformed. Each day, I’ve shaped it with intention, like scraping my hand against the side of my bowl to bring formerly separate ingredients together. With collaboration from my friend Sandra and our designer Rachel, ideas are slowly coagulating into forms. A creative brief and a visual identity. Mission, vision, values, strategy, tactics. A quick swipe at a prototype using Mighty Networks software just to see how things might look. The start of a market research plan to better understand who we’re building for. Without my family to cook for, I would never make meatballs. My son balks at parsley so you won’t find any green bits in mine. This form will come together around the people who participate. My hands add the energy, the vision of what it could be.
Recipe as feeling: Form (Meatballs)
Give yourself enough space.
Make your choices.
Hold a shape, firm and light.
Harden with heat and fat.
Actual recipe
Meatballs with spaghetti, jarred tomato sauce, and broccoli
Beef adds structure and pork adds flavor so I call for both in this recipe but you can use just one or the other if you prefer. I recommend buying sustainably raised meat from a trusted farmer or butcher if you can. Two pounds of meat makes about 22 meatballs. For our family of 3, I serve 4-5 meatballs per person and freeze the rest in a glass tupperware of the sauce, and reheat for dinner within a week or two. They’re great on rolls with sauce and mozzarella cheese as meatball subs as well. It takes about an hour to make the meatballs and fry them, and a while to wash all the dishes, so choose this recipe when you have enough time and space to enjoy it.
INGREDIENTS:
2 handfuls panko or fresh breadcrumbs, about ½ cup
~½ cup buttermilk or whole milk
2 large pinches of kosher salt, about 2 tsp., plus more for the pasta water
Fresh ground pepper
½ cup fresh grated parmesan or other salty hard cheese, with extra grated over the finished dish
2-3 cloves garlic, grated
1 lb. ground beef
1 lb. ground pork
Olive oil for frying
1 large jar tomato sauce (our family likes Rao’s Marinara) or homemade if you have it
Dried spaghetti, 2-3 ounces per person
Broccoli, washed and divided into individual portions or florets
Water and kosher salt for boiling pasta and broccoli
EQUIPMENT:
Large bowl
Grater for cheese and garlic
Plate for raw meatballs
Cast iron or nonstick pan for frying meatballs
Pan for heating sauce that’s big enough for meatballs too – or you can use a slow-cooker on low
Large pot for boiling water for pasta and broccoli
Tin can or other receptacle for draining fat
Tongs and slotted spoon
Place the panko or breadcrumbs in a large bowl and pour the buttermilk or milk on top. Grate the cheese and garlic into the mixture, add most of the salt and pepper, and mix with a fork until it has a pasty consistency, adding more milk if it’s too dry. Then add the ground meat, and sprinkle a bit more salt and pepper on top.
Before you get your hands dirty, set up your pans. Put the sauce to simmer on low in one (or use a slow-cooker set to low, a great option if you’re making the meatballs early in the day). Fill a large pot with water and more kosher salt and bring it to a boil (it may finish boiling before you’re done with the meatballs, in which case, put a lid on it and turn off the heat until you’re ready to cook the pasta.)
With clean ringless hands, keeping one hand clean and dry if you can, gently mix the meats and the breadcrumb mixture together. Scrape the bottom of the bowl, folding the ingredients together until they are well mixed but not completely homogenous. Overmixing and overpacking makes tough meatballs, so use a firm but light touch. Form the meatballs into the size you want – I like about 1 1/2 inches diameter, or about 2 knuckles wide. Place them on a clean plate. (I like to form them all and then fry them so I don’t feel the time pressure of hot oil, but you can form and fry as you go if you prefer.)
Heat a 10-inch cast iron or nonstick pan over medium-high heat. Add enough olive oil so that the bottom of the pan is fully coated with it. When the oil shimmers, add the first batch of meatballs, leaving at least an inch of space between them (about 7 fit in my 10-inch pan at a time). Turn on your extractor fan if you have one, and regulate the heat so the oil doesn’t burn (too high) and the meatballs don’t stick (too low). Otherwise, leave the meatballs be until they develop a dark brown crust on the side touching the pan. Gently and firmly flip them with metal tongs. You can do a third side if you like after the second side is brown, but don’t cook the meatballs fully through. They will finish cooking in the sauce, which you can transfer them to when they are browned on at least two sides. Repeat the process in batches with the remaining meatballs. When they are finished, let the fat cool and then transfer it to a can (I keep mine in the freezer and then discard it in the trash when it’s full) rather than pouring it in the sink, which will clog.
When the last batch of meatballs is cooking, turn the salted pasta water back on if you’ve turned it off. When it’s boiling, add the broccoli for 2-3 minutes, then remove with a slotted spoon and place in a bowl to drain. Add the pasta and cook for the suggested time, taking care not to overcook it. Drain the pasta, serve with sauce and meatballs on top, broccoli on the side, and grated cheese on top. This meal definitely warrants candles and a tablesetting that brings you joy so everyone can appreciate the love that formed this dish.