The past 2 days have been raucous… to say the least. Thursday and Friday were complete with cocktails flowing like wine(?), general hilarity with my besties, and dragging my drunk dad home from a country show. I’m way behind on sleep, but more than anything I needed to spend today pursuing something less toxic to my liver.
I’m currently staying with my parents, and as I stumbled downstairs late this morning, eyes on the prize (coffee), my mom pounced on me for help: a triple, that’s right, triple batch of BURGUNDY MEATBALLS.
God dammit these things are fucking delicious. My mom got the recipe from her mom, and she admits that it is the only dish from her childhood that she still loves, and still eats.
I didn’t learn to cook at my mother’s apron strings. The house I grew up in had a galley kitchen, so small it felt like you were in a submarine with a window. My parents made do, concocting their elaborate dinner party menus as efficiently as possible. That basically meant, git yer ass outta the kitchen! I’ve helped my mom with larger tasks, like our yearly dozen kinds of Christmas cookies (my dad won’t have it any other way), but nothing else. So it was nice to actually cook something with her, especially now that they have a muuuch larger kitchen and more ballerific appliances. As this was a somewhat newer bonding experience, and because I’m a whore for delicious food, and want you to whore out too, I documented the process:
Go make it now. This recipe freezes awesomely. Hence the triple batch.
Current Jam “Heads Will Roll” Yeah Yeah Yeahs (yes, I was breaking it DOWN on the kitchen/dance floor. Don’t judge me).