Old Smokey

On top of spaghetti all covered with cheese.
I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed.

It rolled off the table, it rolled on the floor,
And then my poor meatball rolled out of the door.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Tune by The Weavers (On Top of Old Smokey)

http://bussongs.com/songs/on-top-of-spaghetti.php

It all comes down to food in the end, doesn’t it? I have tried to avoid the subject, but there is no getting around it, is there? Here’s my recipe for Italian meatballs for the classic dish of spaghetti and meatballs.

1 lb. ground beef

¾ cup Italian bread crumbs

1 egg

½ cup shredded Parmesan cheese

2 slices American cheese, torn into bits

½ tsp. Kosher salt

¼ tsp. ground pepper

2 Tbsp. olive oil

Using hands, combine all ingredients thoroughly. I usually use disposable plastic gloves for this part to preserve manicureJ. In non-stick skillet, warm olive oil at medium high heat. Form meatballs into walnut sized, tightly packed orbs. Gently add each one into the pre-heated pan. Continue until all of the meat mixture is used. Gently turn with spatula until centers are fully cooked—20 minutes or so.

This recipe is a direct descendent of my mother’s recipe. Her meatballs were the size of tennis balls; mine, the size of walnuts for quicker, easier, more thorough cooking. Same evocative taste though. Funny how food, music, and fragrance can transport a soul right back to childhood, college life, travel on the road…

When I smell the classic Chanel No. 5, I invariably expect my dad to appear in his tuxedo (with extra wide bow tie a la 1970’s) and my mom in her gown, complete with (fake) fur, ready to go out for the evening. This meant only one thing, of course, the impending arrival of a babysitter with the chance to sneak by bedtime into the wee hours of the night (10pm). Accompanying this fragrance is the wafting from the oven where aluminum trays of Hungry Man tv dinners were heating; Salisbury steak with apple pie being the cuisine de choix. My brothers and I could and would sing rousing renditions of the children’s classic, On Top of Spaghetti while we waited for the events of our parents’ evening out to unfold.

So I make these meatballs every so often for my family to the same rave reviews. It puts persons in a great mood; but strangely enough, leads to arguments after this particular meal more often than not. Why is that? Arguments in the present and a generation ago. Strangely odd odds… Feels better to put this tidbit of my childhood out there in the “ether”.  Perhaps someone can add to this phenomenon if it resonates?