Grandma's Meatballs

When my family gets together it means many things; laughter, dancing in the kitchen, good wine and lots of cooking and eating. And the one thing we always cook together is a big batch of my grandma's meatballs.

If she wasn't doing the chopping, mixing and cooking herself, she would be the chef, guiding us along and making sure we never over mixed! Since she passed away, making her meatballs keeps her memory alive and is always one of the highlights of our time together. They're full of fresh parsley, garlic and Parmesan, and even though the first ones out of the pan are scalding hot, we will happily burn our tongues eating a few because they're simply irresistible. And by the time the entire batch has been cooked and the pasta and sauce are ready to serve, we've usually eaten so many that we just want to go pass out in a meatball induced coma, but we somehow always find room for just one more. Overeating is inevitable, but we know that when the first meatball goes in the pan.

The family meatball recipe and tradition has passed from my great grandmother, who moved to the United States from Calabria in 1915, then on to my grandma, then to my dad and uncle, and on to me, my siblings and cousins, and now to my nieces and nephews, the oldest of which has become the official meatball and sauce maker at his fire station in California.



Over the years my dad has fiddled a bit with my grandma's recipe and will patiently spend hours slowly cooking his batches on the stove. They are divine! I've been somewhat successful replicating both his recipe and the exact one that my grandma dictated to me many years ago in her kitchen in Walla Walla, but have adapted mine to the ingredients I can find in France. For instance, both of their recipes call for Progresso breadcrumbs and curly leaf parsley. I use chapelure and flat leaf parsley. My dad uses less Parmesan than I do and 100% ground pork. I like more cheese and use a mix of pork and veal. Also, he fries his, which I sometimes do, if I have the time. 

A few years ago, after a friend in New Orleans told me that she always bakes her meatballs, I decided to give the baking thing a try. The results were ok, but not brilliant. I missed the beautiful, golden crust and soft interior that I got with my grandma's and dad's recipes, so I went back to frying. Then a couple of months ago I was at our neighborhood butcher and I spotted la farce for sale. I asked what is consisted of and when he told me it was half veal and half pork, I decided to try it for some meatballs.



It took me a few attempts to get them just right. The first time they were fabulous, the second time they came out dry and disappointing and the third time was a charm!
 They still require a bit of care. You can't just throw them in the oven for 30 minutes and come back to perfect meatballs. But you're not standing over a stove, patiently turning them for hours either.

Just one caveat: we have a ridiculous oven that only offers broiling, a microwave setting, a combination microwave/convection setting or plain convection, so the temperatures I had to work with are not what a normal oven would have. I've offered temperatures that I think will correspond with a normal oven. If you make these, I would love it if you would let me know how they worked for you!

Grandma's Baked Meatballs

• 1 lb ground pork and veal. I used a 50/50 ratio
• 2 large eggs
• 1 generous cup freshly grated Parmesan. I used a 3 year old wedge which is quite salty, so didn't add extra salt to the mix
• minced garlic to taste. I use 5 large cloves
• minced flat leaf parsley to taste - approx. 1/2 cup
• 1/2 cup fine, dry bread crumbs, moistened with milk - make sure there no lumps and the crumbs are quite wet, almost runny

Preheat the oven to 200° C/400° F. 
Put all of the ingredients except the moistened bread crumbs in a bowl and mix gently with your hands.
Add the moistened bread crumbs and mix again, being careful not to over mix.

Shape into balls, about the size of an egg, and lay them out on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.

Bake for 10 minutes then gently turn the meatballs over.
Turn on the broiler to broil for 4 minutes.
Turn off the broiler and lower the heat to 175° C/350° F and bake for a further 10-12 minutes. After 10 minutes at 175° C/350° F, I cut into one and check to see if they are cooked all the way through. If not, add another minute or 2

I'm thrilled with the results because it means we can enjoy pasta, sauce and meatballs for lunch and I don't have to spend the entire morning standing over a stove. And I'm pretty sure that grandma would think they're delicious!






Pin It

Italian Comfort Food and My Grandma

Living so far away from family means that you sometimes miss the big stuff - birthdays, new babies, graduations, weddings and funerals. And sometimes you know that you just have to be there.

I spent a good amount of time with my grandma when I was visiting my family in February. She got sick shortly after I left, and after several weeks in and out of the hospital, she passed away on April 15 at the age of 96.
It was a huge shock.
As poorly as she was, I think we all expected her to bounce back, don her blue apron and head back into her kitchen. We all thought we would have more time to spend with her.

At first I debated going to her funeral. A last minute ticket meant that the cost was astronomical and due to a work commitment that I couldn't get out of, it would take me about as long to travel to Spokane as I would actually be able to spend in Spokane.
I went anyway. I knew I would regret it if I didn't.

It was a whirlwind weekend full of tears and laughter and hugs and family I haven't seen in years. And on the day of my departure, my dad got up extra early and started cooking in her honor. He spent several hours that morning making meatballs and marinara sauce, using her recipes. After indulging in a few for breakfast, dipped in sauce and enjoyed with little shards of Parmigiano-Reggiano, I left for the airport with a drippy, well wrapped sandwich stuffed full of garlic and parsley studded meatballs and smothered in sauce.
I sat in the airport in Minneapolis on one of my layovers and thought of her, all I had learned from her and all that she meant to our family, while I savored every single bite.

I know it would have made her smile.




Pin It

Italian Food

I'm not Italian by blood. But I am Italian by osmosis.

You see, I'm adopted. And my adoptive parents, who picked me up at the orphanage when I was a tiny six weeks old, are Italian on one side and English on the other. I have to say that the Italian side was much stronger and more gregarious than the English side, thus I feel more Italian than English.

My dad's parents are 100% Italian, both from Calabria, down in the "toe'' of Italy. Have you ever seen My Big Fat Greek Wedding? Well, my family's gatherings and weddings were eerily similar. Just call them My Big Fat Italian Weddings and you've got the idea.

Yesterday my dad flew down to visit us at my sister's house and it has been a cooking and eating frenzy since he arrived. Last night I made spaghetti all'Amatriciana for dinner, then this morning the meatballs were being mixed up by 9 a.m., with the final few finishing up their cooking about 11 a.m.
Just in time for brunch. Which consisted of meatballs in sauce, sprinkled with Parmesan, and bread.
It was heaven.


my oldest nephew, mixing up the meatball mix


brunch - meatballs with bread to soak up the sauce


After a third of the meatballs had been eaten and we were all regretting that we had enjoyed so many at our stomach's expense, my dad spied a pile of baking potatoes and decided that we should make cavatelli. Cavatelli is the Calabrian dialect for gnocchi. It is something that I grew up eating on holidays and visits to my grandparent's house. It was always a special treat and my grandma taught me how to make her cavatelli many years ago, but since then I've never taken the time to make it.
Today I had the opportunity.

Three generations of us, with grandma constantly being consulted on the phone, all made a huge batch of cavatelli.


dad making the dough


my sister and oldest niece making pasta


the dough before it is formed into the correct shape


my youngest niece learning how to make the pasta


the rolled out cavatelli


the cooked cavatelli with sauce

I feel very lucky to have grown up with both my Italian and my English parents. But I must admit, the food from the Italian side is much, much better! Pin It