Contrary to Popular Belief, Obi Wan Kenobi Is Not Our Only Hope

On New Year’s Eve day, Zac was in rare typical 13-year-old form all day long, badgering and baiting his sisters and winding up his little brother like a cheap Happy Meal toy. He just could not stop. The only times it did stop was when somebody cried, screamed, tattled, or stormed away. I was not looking forward to staying up until midnight with my wonder doofus of a son.

            As of late, to ring in the New Year, we have been joining my sister–in-law and her family to watch movies and stuff our faces with delectable (not-so-good-for you) food. This year’s fare was quite tasty as well: Monte Cristo loaf, spicy BBQ wings, mozzarella-stuffed meatballs,pizza rolls, raspberry-brie pastries, seafood won-tons, chocolate lava cake (not pictured), and the usual fruits, veggies, crackers, and candies. 

            When we arrived, we unfolded out of the van, multiple crockpots and platters and blankets and pillows and children (all of whom removed their coats and shoes on the ride over, of course) to haul in to the house. I looked for Zac to help out, but he had disappeared. The growling under my breath grew to a dull roar as we entered. A minute later, the thirteen-going-on-twenty-three-year-old came sauntering in. Too engrossed in setting up the food train, I ignored him for the time being.

            A few minutes later, Amy called me over to show me something on Facebook: a post from my in-laws’ neighbor. I include it here with a small grammatical correction (Yes, I’m one of those people.) :

Just encountered the kindest young man as I was taking my garbage out. He was waiting on my neighbors to open their door after knocking when I saw him. I looked down to make sure I didn't slip on the death ice when he approached me and said, "Here, let me get that for you." He had a smile on his face & proceeded to take the bag out of my hands & took it to the dumpster. The holiday spirit continues! I'm not sure who your visitor is, Christopher & Emily, but he's a good houseguest to have! He totally made my day!

            I was flabbergasted. My progeny, the one who could care less about anyone outside himself not even ten minutes earlier, helped a complete stranger…without being asked. Wow. I pondered this, and reflected upon other small kindnesses he had shown over the Christmas holidays, helping younger siblings wrap presents (even though they still appeared to be wrapped by a blind T-Rex), keeping secrets (mostly), reading stories (he had no interest in), shoveling snow and ice (for hours). Really, he was a good kid.

            It reminded me of a lesson I gave at church the Christmas before about becoming like the Savior. One of the main points I drove home was encapsulated in a grammar lesson. Frequently, when someone is asked “How are you?” or something similar, the reply is usually “I’m doing good,” when it should be “I am doing well.” Socially, but not grammatically, this has become acceptable.  I pointed out to the class parts of speech and usage rules, and that doing “good” implies doing something to benefit others, doing what the Savior did—acts of charity and mercy. “Doing good” actually answers the question “What are you doing?”

            And this, I think, is my Christmas wish, my New Year’s hope, or whatever—a bit of sentimentality to be brought to reality. Hopefully, we can all do more good…wherever we find ourselves: work, home, church, Wal-Mart. Even the least of us can become a “do-gooder.” May this spawn some cheesy discussion of holiday spirit or service or such. All I know is that the world could use some good.  Let’s go do it. And be it. I feel that if we all perform more kindnesses, then even teenage wonder doofuses, and not just Jedi, can bring greater hope and peace to this world.

Disclaimer: Obi Wan Kenobi is still the coolest Jedi in the galaxy.

By Request...

Grilled. Stuffed. Zucchini.

Even though my kids fear it, and Amy is extremely picky about her zucchini recipes, this is one of my favorites. It originated from one of Wells and Jones's Best Bites cookbooks (I don't remember which one), but like I usually do, I have embellished it.

1. Take a zucchini--I prefer monster-sized vegetables--the kind that give most kids nightmares. Slice it lengthwise.

2. Scoop out the insides, leaving about 1/4" around the edge. Take the non-seed parts and dice them; set them to the side for later. Pitch the seeds. Really. Get rid of them.

3. Coat the inside of the zucchini canoes with olive oil, salt, and black pepper. Try some cayenne for a little kick!

4. Brown a pound of Italian sausage. The original recipe only calls for 4 oz., but...um...well...you know.

5. Add diced red onion (I usually add 1/2 a cup.) and 2 diced cloves of garlic.

6. Place the zucchini (hollow-side down) on a medium flame on your grill.

7. While the zucchini is on, add the diced zucchini innards and 1-2 fresh diced tomatoes to your meat and onion mix. Dash it with additional salt and/or black pepper.

8. Add 1 cup of shredded cheese and 1/2 a cup of seasoned bread crumbs. Regular bread crumbs will suffice, but add more Italian seasonings (your preference) if you go that route. Mix nicely.

8a. Other toppings such as mushrooms, shredded carrots, bacon bits, olives, spicy peppery goodness, etc. can also get tossed in.

9. After about 5-10 minutes on the grill (depending on the size of the green boat-like veggie thing and how soft you want it), remove the zucchini and stuff with the mix.

10. Top with additional bread crumbs and cheese. Throw it back on the grill for another few minutes until the extra cheese melts.

11. Enjoy!

12. Look for an occasion to make again.

Biting Off More Than I Can Chew

 

Taken from https://krmusicians.wordpress.com

Most people use the phrase “biting more than you can chew” figuratively. For me, it has always been literal habit, having been born with a cavern instead of a jaw. My dad often wondered if I were part snake and could unhinge my mandible at will. When other people had their wisdom teeth yanked, my dentist just said he hoped mine would grow in straight with all the space around them. When I was sixteen, I found that I could fit my whole fist in my mouth. (Don’t ask.) Hostess Snowballs, those pink or white coconut covered marshmallow globs of grossness, are bite-sized snacks. Neighborhood kids quit bobbing for apples when I came to the party. Nobody wanted to play Chubby Bunny with me by the time I was twelve.

I won my first pizza-eating contest in fifth grade, taking out Jason the class bully without breaking a sweat, downing two large slices in less than 20 seconds. When I was older, I food-raced against others using entire pizzas, Big Macs, steaks, ice cream sundaes--and anything else we could get our grubby hands on. Whoever finished first got to eat what was left of the other’s hoagie or bag of cookies. Three-foot subs naturally go with an entire bag of chips and two liters of Coke.

Not to completely gross you out, but the one time I remember throwing up as a kid resulted in hot dog chunks. Well, actually hot dog halves. That time I literally bit off more than I could chew. I just swallowed.

            Now, because we have finicky kids at my house, we measure things at the dinner table by bites: teeny bites, kid bites, normal bites, big bites, monster bites, and Dad bites. If you tell Dad (me) he can have a bite of your ice cream cone, you must be prepared to go hungry yourself unless you planned ahead and asked for a double scoop.

Many people learned the hard way not to give me a bite. My brother still steams over the time he left half a Wendy’s chicken club on the table. As he left the room to answer the phone, over his shoulder he said I could have a bite. I swear I only had one bite.

Unfortunately, gobbling like this has led to many unwanted pounds. People say that to control your weight, take fewer bites. There's just one problem: when I just take one more bite, it’s the equivalent of six or seven for a mere mortal. And now, if that isn't enough, I have an even bigger problem: my sons (ages 12 and 5) copy me. On more than one occasion I’ve had to rip multiple entire slices of bacon from their mouths to prevent asphyxiation by breakfast.

“But Dad ate three slices at one time!” was Zac’s defense when interrogated by his mother. I just smirked and avoided eye contact. Do not try this at home kids...or anywhere else for that matter. I’m a trained professional. Biting off more than I can chew? It's what I do...literally.

Photo by Heidi Bauer

Worst. Meal. Ever.

Today’s story comes from a piece I started earlier this year after I read “The Battle of the Red Hot Pepper Weenies” by David Lubar from the short story collection of the same title.  My students wanted to know about different foods I have tried: best chocolate, weirdest texture, hottest (like the story), grossest, etc.

I’m not really sure about the hottest thing I've ever eaten.  It’s possibly Dave’s Insanity Sauce, which my brother dropped into a dish of mac and cheese.  I cried brimstone for hours.  I don’t really go in for the super melt-your-teeth-out hot stuff, though.  I prefer flavor over potency.  That’s why I usually stick to milder sauces—the flavors are richer and enhance whatever they are added to.   But when it comes to stuff that’s painful going in as well as coming out, there is definitely one episode that stands out.

When I was serving as a missionary in southern Spain, my companion and I were working in the small pueblo of Andújar.   Through some acquaintances, we met an elderly woman named Conchita.  Her family had all moved away, so she was rather lonely.  We would visit with her fairly frequently and help her around the house or do her shopping as she was getting on in years, and life had not been very kind to her.  One day, out of the blue, she invited us over on occasion to eat.  We didn't even know she could cook as she had mostly been eating cold foods—ready-made packed foods or fresh fruits or bread.  That and the fact that her eyesight was going (quickly) gave us cause to be little worried.

Reluctantly, we accepted her invitation, and she immediately began planning a menu for us.  She set the lunch two weeks ahead.  Why so far off, we didn't know.  Maybe she had to wait for her pension to clear or for her new teeth to come in the mail, but whatever the delay, for the next few weeks, she would tell us of how she was preparing the best feast ever.  “Just like I used to,” she would exclaim.  And then she’d clasp her rosary and escape to some far off time only her mind could see.  We began to get a little worried.

The day of the appointment came, and we arrived at Conchita's apartment with a blend of anticipation and trepidation.  The table was only set for two.  When asked why she wasn't eating with us, she scowled and growled, “I've already eaten.  Don’t you know I can’t eat all this rich food I've prepared?  It’d kill me off for sure!”  Hesitantly, we slid into the wobbly hardback chairs.

As quickly as she could shuffle in, the first course was served: soup.  Not too bad, right?  Heh heh.  I wouldn't be telling this tale if it wasn't disgusting.  The soup was a lukewarm watery broth with lumps of overcooked spinach, not-so-cooked eggplant and some chunks of cold dried and salted fish—cod, I believe.  Elder G— spluttered as the first spoonful crossed the threshold of his mouth.  I wiped my eye and tie and shirt.  “Super delicious!” he pronounced.

My hand shook as Conchita turned to me.  “What do you think?”  I gulped it down, trying not to let anything touch my tongue on its way down.  I grimaced; hopefully, to her it would appear that I was smiling.  Gave it too thumbs up, and made a supposed-to-be-yummy sound.  Really, I was trying not to gag and spit.

We squirmed and swallowed for the next hour or so, trying our hardest to avoid drinking the warm gazpacho she sloshed together in a semi-clean pitcher.

When we couldn't bear any more, we excused ourselves as politely as we could (It still took about twenty minutes to get out the door.), and we headed home.

As we walked down the apartment building stairs, both of our stomachs audibly expressed their displeasure.  We glanced at each other knowingly, and without a word, we started moving double time back to our place.  Stream poured from my forehead, but it wasn't just from the heat or the pace we moved at.  The outward signs of my insides’ rebellion started to manifest themselves.  I burped and re-tasted the helping of landfill I had forced down my throat.  My stomach lurched, and I looked over at my companion.

Elder G— appeared worse than I felt: white face, glasses slipping, I thought he might faint on the spot.  Suddenly, he threw off his backpack and demanded the keys.  “I’m not going to make it!” he burbled, and he took off sprinting, leaving in in the dusty road.

Five minutes later I stumbled up to our fourth-floor hole-in-the-wall.  My pace had slowed to a crawl as the cramping gradually grew worse.  The front door swung in the light breeze.  Shoes, pants, and shirt littered the hallway.  As I took in the disheveled state of affairs, I heard a scream of relief coming from the bathroom down the hall.  I’m not going to mention what else I heard (or smelled).  I'll leave that to your capable imagination.

Let’s just leave it by saying that we didn't work much (or very far from our apartment) for the next few days.  And we never ate with Conchita again.

Joe's Ribs

I've been hanging onto these photos for a little while, so I suppose it's time to share.  I was looking for something to grill, and I was getting tired of burgers, brats, dogs, and chicken.  And so I had Amy pick up some country style pork ribs.  Stop drooling on your screen; that's gross.

Those who know me, already realize that I don't like using exact measurements.  That said, here is a list of ingredients for the rub I invented.  And to be honest, I did look at several rub recipes before I settled on this.  Feel free to steal this, alter it, ignore it--whatever.  I will say though, that I also made these for my wife's family while we were on vacation, and they ate 'em up (literally and figuratively).

- chili powder

- garlic powder

- salt

- black pepper

- cumin

- smoked paprika

- oregano (not much)

- brown sugar

- although I did't do it this time, I wanna try adding red pepper flakes

Refrigerate for a while before throwing them on the grill.  Allow the flavor to seep into the meat.

Trust me; it's better that way.

WARNING: Don't make too many, because you will end up eating them all!
The second time I made the rub, I spread it over five pounds of pork ribs.
Leftovers were amazing, especially with a side of Southern slaw.

Okay.  I admit that I slathered them with BBQ sauce toward the end of the grill session.
I left one without sauce, though.  It didn't need it.

Served with a side of grilled potatoes and onions.  Add watermelon.

I said to stop drooling!

BBQ Anyone?

I suppose that I'll do one more post for the month of April.  That, and I'm stalling because I don't want to revise my research proposal.  Believe it or not, I think that with this post, I am finally making good on my promise of posting one food post for each day of December.  If I'm wrong, don't tell me.  I really don't care.  That said, I think that every so often I'll do another food bit...just for fun.  That is, if I can remember to take a picture of it.

For Sam's birthday, he wanted pizza.  Can't imagine where he ever got that idea.  So we made homemade crusts.  (I'm not posting that recipe, but whatever your favorite crust recipe is, it'll do.  You could even use one of those disgusting pre-made ones if that gets you salivating.)

1. Load the toppings as outlined:  Sauce--1 part pizza sauce to 2 parts BBQ-again of your choice (I used Sweet Baby Ray's Hickory Smoke and Brown Sugar this time); shredded chicken (I like to season with black pepper); diced red onion; sliced black olives (not pictured, as we were out); tons of bacon bits; shredded smoked Gouda cheese (sometimes I mix in some mozzarella and cheddar).  I only top half of it with crazy delicious mushrooms because Amy won't eat them.  Add any other garnishes as you see fit: Parmesan cheese, red pepper flakes, etc.

2. Follow the crust baking instructions.  This recipe was for 20 minutes at 400 degrees.

3. Savor.

4. Wish you had made another.

More Food!

I thought I would start out this month by sharing another food post.  I think I'm only one short of my contracted amount after this.  Not that I won't ever do them again, but I think I need to be done with them.  So as I was helping Amy with our monthly menu, she suggested Cheesy Tortellini Spinach Bake, which, ironically, was the next post that I was planning to do.  It was the last picture I had taken, too.  It's been on my iPad for a little while, too.  Doh!

So, here's the picture:

And here's the recipe.  It comes from Savoring Our Seasons with Our Best Bites by Sara Wells and Kate Jones.  My awesome wife calls it a "very trendy Mormon mommy thing."  Yes, it's true, but it's still scrumptious.

Cheesy Tortellini Spinach Bake

12 oz. tortellini
4 oz. bacon
3 cloves garlic, pressed or finely minced
2 T. flour
2 c. milk
3/4 tsp. kosher salt
1/8 tsp. black pepper
1 1/2 tsp. dries basil
1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes (I like more)
1 med. lemon
2 c. roughly chopped, loosely packed fresh spinach
3/4 c. grated mozzarella cheese
3/4 c. grated Parmesan cheese

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Cook tortellinis according to directions.
2. Cook bacon until crisp.  Reserve small amount of drippings.  Add garlic to pan and cook until tender (1 min. or so.).  Add flour to pan. Whisk until smooth.  Add salt, pepper, basil, and red pepper flakes.  Bring sauce to a simmer.
3. While sauce is heating, zest the lemon.  Cut lemon in half and juice it. Add 1 Tbsp. to sauce.  Stir until thickened (2 min.). Remove from heat.
4. Drain tortellini and return to pot.  Reserve 1 Tbsp. of bacon.  Add rest to pasta.  Add spinach, 1/2 c. of mozz. cheese, and 1/2 c. Parm. cheese.  Add sauce and stir gently.  Place pasta mixture in baking dish.  Top with remaining cheeses and bacon.
5. Cover with foil and bake for 20 minutes.  Remove foil and bake for additional 5-10 minutes.  Remove and cool a bit before serving.
6. Scarf!  Nom nom nom nom.

Don't Hold Your Breath

By my calculations, I left you hanging with four undelivered food posts from December.  As a peace offering in my attempts to make good, I am posting today about some dadgumlicious pork chops I made the other day.  They were so awesome that I didn't even take a picture of them when I ate them.  I had to wait and capture the leftovers.  The subtlety of the garlic was even better after they hung out in the fridge overnight.

Chops with rice, gravy, and apple slices.

Ingredients for the breading include crushed Ritz crackers, Parmesan cheese, a healthy helping of garlic powder, sage, and a touch of salt.  Smear the chops in plain yogurt before coating.  These are single-coated, but I've been known to double coat as well.  Some of you might remember that crazy P-day/transfer day where our apartment in Jerez turned into pork chop central for everybody passing through.  Dang, those were scrumptious!

The gravy is cream of mushroom soup and sour cream--nice and thick.

These were baked, but frying is good, too, just not as healthy.

So, there. One down, three to go. Don't expect them at any regular intervals.  I'm trying to be a little healthier and lower my sugar intake.  We'll see how that goes.

Hog and Eggs

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, they say.  So why not start it off with something delicious.  And even if I don't make time every day, there's just something about bacon and eggs that gets your morning going in the right direction. These scrambled huevos also have milk, cheese, onion, red pepper flakes, salt, and pepper.

The raspberry peach jam on the toast is amazing as well.

P.S.  For some reason, Facebook wouldn't let me post more than two of my catch-up links yesterday.  Don;t forget to check those out as well.

Ultimate Comfort Food

It's taken me a while, but I'm finally caught up with my food posts.  Today, the family took a lazy day: we didn't do anything we didn't want to.  I didn't get dressed until just before noon.  Grazing was the main order of the day.  However, around 6:30 or 7:00 we hauled everything out of the fridge for a leftover night.  Anyone who knows me knows how much I love leftovers--especially for breakfast or lunch.  Most of these goodies came either from Christmas dinner at Mom and Dad's house yesterday or from other meals previously highlighted on this blog.  See how many you you can recognize on my plate.

I think the only ham, turkey, and funeral potatoes are the only things I haven't posted before.

Holiday Cheer

Merry Christmas!  Today we're just going to kick back and cool off with three of my favorite beverages: a collection of Henry Weinhardt's vanilla cream, orange cream, and root beer.

Tradition!

No, Tevya, this is not Kosher eating today, so sorry.  Every Christmas Eve (yes, this is the retroactive 24th post) we have a tradition of going to a matinee and gorging ourselves at the Brick Oven.  So today's food that makes me happy comes to you from the Brick Oven.  Back when I was working my way through college, I was the Brick Oven.  For two and a half years I slaved in the back of the house, but I still never tire of this American-Italian cuisine.  Today's fare included a sample platter: all-you-can-eat pizza, soup, and salad.

Om nom nom nom nom nom nom!

Beat the Reese's!

Yep, they're better when they're homemade.

Some of the 200+ peanut butter cups my awesome wife and mom made.

The filling is just peanut butter and powdered sugar.  The chocolate is just melted milk or dark, whichever you prefer, and painted into candy molds.

Devour.  Be careful because they are extremely addicting.

Oh, Yeah...I Blog...Kind Of

Santa needed a little more help than I thought the past few nights, so now I get to play catch up.  I know I've let the few of you readers down, but I promise I'm still going to post one food post per day this month.  Each day might not have one, but there will eventually be one for each day of December (31).

To kick off my repentance process, I'm going to showcase the other white meat done south-of-the-border cycle.  This is a variation on the Mexican pork recipe from the Better bites cookbook that I've referenced earlier.  I'm not going to post the exact recipe because I changed it.

Start by rubbing about four pounds of pork shoulder with a healthy dose of Kosher salt, black pepper, chili powder, and onion powder.  Sear it in a pan (with olive oil).  Put it in a crockpot  with a mixture of enchilada sauce (about two cans), salsa (maybe 1/2-3/4 cup), brown sugar (2/3-1 cup), a bit of Worchester sauce, and a couple swallows of apple juice (cranapple also works).  Cook it on low for at least 7 hours.  I let this one go for about 9 1/2.  Then shred it.

 The way I mix the spices it's a little different each time.  More often than not it turns out better than Cafe Rio (and cheaper, too).

Add whatever fixings you want.  We like to eat it burrito style with pineapple rice (just add crushed pineapple and lime juice), black beans, cheese, lettuce, sour cream, guacamole, hot sauce, and all the other trimmings.  Add some homemade ranch sauce for an extra flavor bonus: mayo (not miracle whip), lime, Hidden Valley ranch packet, garlic, milk and green salsa).

Scarf!  You'll be tempted to inhale, but don't forget to chew!

Game Time!

So, to ring in the bowl season, we packed up the whole famn damily and headed to my parents' house to watch BYU destroy SDSU and make homemade peanut butter cups. (Thanks, Amy, Mom, and girls.)  Of course, the menu needed to include classic sports food: pizza and wings.  I'm not a wing snob, or a pizza snob, but I do enjoy the good stuff when I can get it.  And, yes, I do know the difference.  This particular fare rated fair on my scale.  Those that know me well, know that even though I love all foods, I could live off pizza for every meal eight days each week (as long as there's variety), i.e., trip to Philadelphia where all I ate for three days included pizza, stromboli (pizza's cousin), and cheese steaks.  But back to this pizza here and now.  It served its purpose and vanquished my hunger both last night and this morning.  The wings were Dad's responsibility, and I have no idea where he got them, although I believe they were pre-seasoned for our postseason match.  (Pun very much intended.)  He got honey barbecue and chile lime.  Not bad.  The burn is still smoldering somewhere in the recesses of my intestines.

24 Hours

What a great way to start the morning.  Sometimes, when I either forget my breakfast or "forget" my breakfast, I head to Floriberto's for one of their wonderful breakfast burritos.  And although I enjoy every single one of their offerings, my favorite is the potato, egg, and bacon burrito (and cheese, of course).  The drive-thru lady knows that she doesn't need to ask me about sauce.  I always get one green and one red.  These burritos are so amazing tat several of our faculty stop there in the mornings.  Many eat half for breakfast and save the rest for lunch.  I just can't stop eating one in time to think about lunch.

 My favorite part of these burritos?  The fact that it's open 24 hours a day, and there isn't a bad time EVER for a bacon and egg burrito. Don't believe me? Try it, and become converted.

Kid Stuff

How can Jell-O not make you happy?  As a kid I loved any time my mom would make jigglers, which was not very often.  She hasn't made them since...well...honestly I don;t remember...probably since Nicole was about six or seven.  It's a good thing Amy's grandma makes them for just about every family potluck occasion.  They don't last too long around here either when Amy or I make them.  The only downside (as far as a concerned--cough--parent is concerned) is that they only want Jello-O for dinner.

Oh, yeah.  Eating jigglers makes me laugh and shake like a bowl full of this stuff...or Santa's belly.

Recipe: 1) Choose your flavor.  2) Follow the instructions on the box.

We All Scream for Ice Cream!

It seems like it's a cheap way out, but everybody likes ice cream.  Well, everyone except my daughter Ally.  Then again, she doesn't really like many desserts.  I have no idea where she gets that from.Weird kid, but she's still awesome.

Still, there is great comfort in ice cream no matter the flavor or the toppings or the occasion.  Just ask all of us overweight ice cream eaters.

As Amy's Grandpa Walker would suggest, every occasion calls for a dish of ice cream.

Up in Your Grill

Yes, it's the 17th of December and I'm still grilling.  I actually grilled on Saturday night, too.  There is no bad time or weather to grill in/through.  The day before yesterday the kids wanted tube steaks (hot dogs), so today I decided that I needed some real steaks.  So I grabbed a few different cuts and drown them in the marinade for about 20 hours.

Now, I'm not a marinade snob--I'm pretty versatile when it comes to the marinade--although, I am a stickler about letting the juices stew for quite a while before the meat is cooked. This batch soaked in the Grillmates rendition of "Backyard Brew."  When I grill for large groups as I am sometimes asked to do, I like to provide plenty of variety, so I'll mix and match and every once in a while just make up my own.  But that doesn't happen too often.  Every summer the young men in our ward get together for a steak preparation/missionary preparation metaphor BBQ.  It's pretty cool as I liken the boys unto raw meat.  They could serve a mission raw and provide a tasty meal.  However, aren't all missionaries and steaks so much better is they are well seasoned and tenderized before they start?  The better prepared the missionary, the more effect he is.  The better prepared the steak, the more delicious it is.  Call if you want to book a party.  My rates are usually pretty cheap.

Tonight, though, I kept it simple.  So, please make sure that you grill responsibly.  Friends don't let friends grill poorly.

On Top of Spaghetti (or Rice)

As it's getting late and Santa's helpers need to be busy, I'll just add this quick post for meatballs.  Yep, meatballs.  Not the imitation meat thingies that come in a can of Chef Boyardee or even the frozen meat nuggets you buy at Sam's Cub in a bag of 26,000 (Those aren't too bad, though).  Nope, these are homemade balls of real meat--no filler--100% ground beef, although I suppose you could make them out of any meat you wanted to.  That includes ground turkey for all my not beef friends...or ground venison for my hunter friends...or even tofu for my vegan buddies.  However, for this recipe I'm just gonna call it meat.  That way you can salivate over whatever tickles your hungry bone at the moment.  I'm also going to post two sauce recipes.

Nobody sneeze!

Sweet and Sour Meatballs (This recipe comes from Our Best Bites: Mormon Moms in the Kitchen by Sara Wells and Kate Jones.)

1 lb. ground beef (or whatever)
2 Tbsp. dehydrated onion (the kids prefer them without)
1/4 tsp. pepper
1 tsp. kosher salt
1 egg, beaten
1/4 c. bread crumbs

Sweet and Sour Sauce
 3/4 c. packaged brown sugar
3 Tbsp. flour
1 1/2 c. water or pineapple juice
1/4 c. white vinegar
3 Tbsp. soy sauce

1. In a medium bowl, combine meatball ingredients.  Shape into 1 inch balls and place on a baking sheet lined with aluminum foil and sprayed with nonstick cooking spray.  Place under broiler in your oven for 5-7 minutes or until the meatballs begin to brown.

2. In a large saucepan, whisk together the sauce ingredients and bring to a boil.  Add the meatballs and reduce heat, cover, and simmer fro 20 minutes, stirring often.

Another sauce that we like at my house is to simply mix a jar of grape jelly and a jar of chili sauce and let the meatballs, or little smokeys, or whatever simmer in the crockpot on low until game time (3-4 hours).

These meatballs can also be tampered with, seasoning them with more of an Italian flair to add to your spaghetti and marinara.  Or you can spice them up and serve them albondigas style.  Also try your favorite meatloaf recipe and make it into balls instead of a loaf.  It's great for sandwiches.  They freeze fairly well, too.