Meatballs

Salt and Pepper were hung over after celebrating the
Blackhawks victory last night. They send regards.

There's something about meatballs. They're iconic. There's just something about them that calls to us and screams to our very souls. "I'm a delicious bite-sized bit of meat," the meatballs say. "Get off your lazy butt and make me. People will love you for it, and will probably ignore that gross skin condition you're ashamed of." They aren't lying. And they come with the added fringe benefit of getting to pretend like you're Italian. Or at least like you fall into some of the more positive stereotypes associated with people from Italy. Of course, you don't, but you've got your dreams don't you? Your vaguely racist dreams.

Ingredients:

1 lb Ground Beef

2 standard-issue Onions

1/4 cup Seasoned Breadcrumbs

1 Egg

1/4 lb Pastrami 

28 oz Tomatoes (Available in both canned form, and Tomatoes form. Take your pick, but if you use fresh tomatoes you'll have to skin them. And don't expect me to find you a video explaining how to do that, taught by a woman who seems like that grade school teacher who's a little too desperate for you to like her)

4 cloves of Garlic

4 tsp Fresh Chopped Basil

1 tsp Fresh Chopped Parsley

1 tsp Dried Oregano

1/2 tsp Black Pepper

An unspecified amount of Salt

An even more unspecified amount of Olive Oil

Now, just to be clear, this is a slightly less-than-traditional meatball recipe. Specifically, it's a Kosher meatball recipe (Because I swing that way), which I guess is kind of a tradition. Just not the right kind for this recipe. If you want to make these super legit, and super not Kosher, replace half the beef with pork, and mix 1/4 cup of milk and 1/2 cup of grated parmesan in with your ground meats. Still, the Kosher version is awesome, and will definitely be a hit regardless of where you come from. Now that that's settled, the first thing you've gotta do is make some sauce. Chop up one of your Onions, and coat the bottom of a pan in oil. Throw the aforementioned onion (The Aforementioned Onion sounds like the name of the worst experimental rock album ever) into that oil along with an average human-sized pinch of salt, and sauté that sucker for about 3 minutes over medium heat. Chop your Pastrami into itty bitty pastrami bits of glory, and throw them in with your onion. Cook them together for another 3 minutes or so before adding in you Oregano, Pepper, and half of your Basil and Garlic. Stir and cook for another minute or so, and then add in your Tomatoes. You can used crushed tomatoes if you want, or you can use whole tomatoes and crush them with a spoon directly on top of your pastrami and onions. Like a man. Regardless of your testosterone level, simmer your sauce for about 30 minutes.

While your sauce is simmering, it's time to actually make some meatballs. Hah! Just kidding. Let's chop and sauté your other onion with some salt and oil for about 5 minutes instead. Then add in the rest of your Garlic and Basil, and cook it down for another minute or so. Turn the heat off, and wait for it to cool down. It shouldn't take too long. Alright, this time I promise we'll be balling some meat. Add your Ground Beef, your Egg, and your Seasoned Breadcrumbs into your onion mixture, along with about 2 TBSP of the sauce you've been simmering. Mix it all together, making sure to remember that

Teacup added for reasons of adorableness

spoons are for communists, and real patriots mix with their hands like our founding fathers intended. Roll your meat goop into little balls, each about 1 inch in diameter. Don't have a protractor and a compass? Figure it out. Or just use a melon-baller to segment out your meat portions. Throw your meatballs in a pan, and sear them under a broiler for a couple minutes on each side. And there you have it! Meatballs! But not really. Because they're still raw on the inside, and also you've got a big pot of superfluous sauce. So simmer your meatballs in the sauce for about 2 hours. Then serve and enjoy, preferably while using a super offensive fake accent, just to prove to Joan from HR that her sensitivity training taught you nothing.