Mama's Italian Meatballs

My family could eat some spaghetti and meatballs. We had it at least once a week. I know many meatball recipes have several kinds of meat mixed in, but this was the 60's and we were simple folk in rural Ohio, so ground beef was just fine for us. My Dad had been a cook in the Navy, so sometimes to make things extra exciting he made homemade noodles. When I came home and saw noodles hanging all over the counters to dry, I knew I was in for a treat. But the crowning glory were the meatballs. My Mama used to be a waitress at an Italian restaurant in Akron, OH before she and my Dad were married and one of the guys in the family showed her how to make them. I would guess I have eaten over 1300 of these in my lifetime. :)

Three years ago when my mother was dying of cancer, and could barely eat or swallow, this is what she was craving, and I made a batch for her. She hadn't been able to eat in days, but managed to get a meatball down and it was the happiest moment of my week that I was able ot make her recipe and that she actually got to eat one. <3

• 1 lb ground chuck
• 2 slices bread crumbs (because they didn't come in a can back then.)
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/8 tsp pepper
• 1 egg
• 1 clove mashed garlic
• 1/4 cup water
• 2 TBL grated parmesan cheese
• 1 TBL dried parsley

Break up bread crumbs in bowl. Add egg, water, cheese, salt, pepper, garlic, parsley. Let bread soak a few minutes. Mix with fork until well blended. Add meat and mix well. Shape by tablespoons into balls and brown slowly in skillet. cover and add a little water, simmer. OR (and this way is much yummier IMHO - put in oven and bake at 300 degrees for 30 minutes. And if you have a cast iron skillet, all the better.

Every Recipe Has a Story

Let's just start here; I love food. I love to cook. I love to eat. I come by it honestly.

My family had food at it's center. I can close my eyes and see Mama at the stove in her apron, Daddy sticking his fingers in pots to taste things and Mama playfully slapping his hand away, which would erupt into tickle fights and giggling.  Food was happiness. Food was connection. Food was comfort. Food was celebration.

Here is my gorgeous mother when she was 17.
The best part about Mary Lou was that she was even more beautiful on the inside.

My mother grew up in a large family of 7 children and learned to cook for that many people. Thus when she cooked for us, she cooked for an army even though we were only a family of three; Mama, Daddy and me.  But, my grandparents lived next door and we had a steady parade of Aunts, Uncles and Cousins stopping by to visit, so Mama was always ready for drop in guests with an array of yummy treats for them to eat.

As we cooked in the kitchen, Mama told me stories of the recipes she was making and those matter as much to me as the delicious food at the other end of the recipe.

Since two of my family of three are now with Jesus in heaven, I decided I should share these recipes and stories so they don't end with me.

I hope you try them and that they will bring you as much joy as they did to my family.