Mighty Meaty Manly Meatballs!

I stumbled across this recipe the other day:

And you try to tell me that you don't want to know more about those meatballs.

https://www.esquire.com/food-drink/a24664/best-meatball-recipe/

As awesome as these are, there were things in there I couldn't do. For example, veal. I don't do veal. I wasn't too keen on the idea of milk in my meatballs. However, I followed the basic idea of the recipe- as in baking them. I even went a step further and used them to make a tomato/red gravy/sauce*. Here's my interpretation of the meatballs. And my friends, it is REALLY worth it, either with the original or my alterations.

Manly Meaty Meatballs:

2lbs 80/20 ground beef (make sure you use 80/20!)
1 lb ground pork
1/2 lb pancetta or thick cut bacon, minced
2 eggs
1/3 cup finely diced yellow onion
8 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp salt
1 tbls of adobo**
1/3 cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1/2 cup bread crumbs

24 oz can of tomato puree
14 oz can of tomato sauce, unseasoned
12 oz can of tomato paste
1/4 cup oregano (you can absolutely decrease this-- I'm a huge fan)
1 tbls garlic power
2 cloves of garlic minced
2 tbls basil
1 tsp bay leaf
salt to taste
It's best to use dried herbs for this because it's not going simmer on the stove/in a crockpot like it should be.

First, on the stove:
Combine the tomato products with the herbs and blend it well; make sure the paste blends through- there should be no lumps. Allow this to heat through for about 1/2 an hour before proceeding to the second part.

Preheat the oven to 350*F

Second:
Mix the meat and eggs together by hand. It's squishy. Deal.
Add the onion and garlic, and mix well.
Add the rest of the ingredients and mix well.

Now:
In a 13X9 pan with high sides (or use a dutch oven if you have it), take a ladle or two of your gravy/sauce and coat the bottom.
Using an ice cream scoop, make the meatballs. Pack them well; you want to get rid of the air in them. Now pop it out and make sure it's round. repeat with all meat in the bowl. I got about 25 meatballs out of this.
Ladle the gravy/sauce over the meatball. Cover them with the sauce-- make sure there are no exposed parts of the meatballs.

Put the pan in the oven, uncovered and cooked for 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Mine were ready in 1 1/2.

Serve alone with crusty bread or over a little spaghetti. There should be WAY more tomato sauce than you need. Freeze or refrigerate for future use. I hope yours is as good as mine. Best Meatballs Ever.

My picture is coming; I'm using an old camera with a CompactFlash card and I have to go find the cord to up load the shot. I also meant to Pin This to Pinterest last week so that I could have for my October challenge, but I messed up. I won't count it, but I WILL share it.

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*I hate getting into the argument about sauce and gravy, so I always refer to it this way. However, in my house it's always tomato sauce.
**I love adobo. I use it everywhere for everything.

So You Want to Hear the Story?

It's October 1st and we're officially moved completely into our new place. I didn't want to tell the story until we had handed in the keys for a reason. Here's the story:

Our neighbor, let's call him SD*, filed a complaint about Tom's smoking probably within six weeks of moving in. Tom was on the deck smoking at this time; our whole point of getting a deck/terrace/whatever was so that he didn't have to go outside in the weather to have a cigarette**. We realize we're new and we should try to keep the peace. I'm that kind of person.

Tom moves his smoking area downstairs and outside. Away from SD's windows.

SD complains again. He can still smell the smoke. So, Tom moves again. This time out near the parking lots, far away from SD.

This time, SD and another neighbor complains about the smoke. They say they can smell the smoke from the parking lot. I swear, SD must me Steve Austin*** at this point.

But then I realize, as I'm sitting on the deck one day that I smell cigarette smoke and Tom is asleep on the couch inside. What the...? I lean over the railing and voila! The home health aid downstairs**** is sitting on their patio smoking. Well now, there's our problem. They are confusing the smoke! No wonder... Next time we get a complaint (which at this point I had NO delusions that we wouldn't) I would explain the mix up and all would be right in the world.

I'll mention here that Tom's health started to decline a bit more with each complaint. He was becoming more and more paranoid, and really can you blame him? He couldn't step out of the house without someone watching him? Not cool man, not cool. We're working on that with the doctors. So...

Tra-la-la-la-la.

I walk in about six weeks ago and Tom hands me a letter. You know what it is: our neighbors have been complaining about his smoking. They can't open their windows because of his smoking.

They are complaining about butts in the mulch.

And now they are complaining that he's coughing.

IN THE HOUSE.

In the f*ing house.

Yes my friends, we are not allowed to cough in the house now. They said that it's all the time, all day and night. Which it's not. It's after he has a cigarette and on occasion randomly (much more like a serious throat clearing than a cough at that point).

He is, of course, steamed. Royally. He's already left the deck because of complaint number one. He's moved his smoking mainly to the parking lot on the request of another neighbor. Even that's not enough. And now they are complaining about his coughing IN THE HOUSE. Are you f*ing kidding me.

I take the letter and tell Tom to stay put. He's liable to rip someone's head off if I let him handle it. That's not to say that I'm not ready to remove major body parts through small orifices, but I have a better track record of staying calm.

I walk over to the office and the first question that I ask is "Where can he smoke?" She totally dodges the question and starts in with some existential bullcrap. I interrupted her and said, "Ok, you didn't answer the question. Where can he smoke?" She points to the park and then to the woods behind the buildings. "Either of those are fine." Well no they're not because the park is closed from dusk to dawn, and since we're under a drought warning, the woods are a really bad idea. Kidding me?

I also pointed out that the downstairs caretakers from the Woods Services (Mental Institute for low functioning people) smoke outside all the time. Her answer? "Oh they've been here for years."

I'm getting a feel for how this is going to fall out.

I mention the cigarette butts in the mulch and before she can say a thing, I hold up finger to hush her. "This is a flat out lie. There are no butts in the mulch. I watched 60 apartment units burn to the ground for lack of a proper disposal system. There is a container in front of our door for just that reason. So whomever told you that is lying." She wanted to say something, but I repeated, "Lying."

So, then we get into the coughing. I said, "What exactly do you expect me to do about that? It's a biological function that was exacerbated by his bacterial pneumonia. I can't make him stop coughing."

"Isn't there a medication he can take?"

"No, this isn't that kind of cough. It's from his lungs."

"Why isn't he here?"

I thought to myself, because I don't want to have to visit him in jail. I answered, "He's at home in a Xanax induced sleep because this letter" *wave wave wave* "got him that upset."

So we banter back and forth another minute and I can tell she completely thinks that I'm going to tell him to just stop coughing. Or that I would be embarrassed by his coughing. She said something about the neighbors having the right to personal peace (or some other such made up term) and that his coughing was disturbing them. I repeated, he can't help it. It's a cough. What it was an elderly person with emphysema? How can you complain about coughing-- I know how bad it is. I sleep in the same room with him.

"How can you stand the coughing? how do you sleep through it?"

"Because he doesn't cough all the time. And don't you think I want him to stop coughing? Don't you think I worry about his health?"

"How do you sleep with him?"

Holy blank evil stare, Batman. What went through my head: Did you just question how I can sleep in the same room with my own husband? He's my husband you dumb _____. How do you think I do it? I close my eyes and fall asleep. He doesn't cough all night. What I said: "I just do."

"So what are we going to do about this? I can't have this because I'm going to have mass exodus of residents."

I stared at her a good long minute. "Well, I can see that there is no hope for a middle ground. I propose this: release us from the lease with NO fees, and I mean no fees, and return our deposit, and we'll move out within two months."

Not even a heartbeat's hesitation later, she answers me, "I can't call the main office right now, they're closed. I can get back to you tomorrow."

"Fine. But there can be NO lease break fees at all and the deposit must be returned to us."

And so, we wound up waiting the weekend to find out if we were going to be released from the lease. We spent the weekend looking at other places to live, and Tuesday morning we got the JOYOUS news that we were. By Thursday, we had a signed a lease for a new place.

And no one has complained about him coughing in our house.


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*SD= Short D*ck. Dude rents an apartment and leases a BMW. Hello, inadequacy. And the woman he's seeing? Yeah. I think she puts her hair on each morning. IT'S NOT THE 80'S. Put down the Aquanet and step away from the curling iron.

**I realize that cigarettes are frowned upon. But if you've been following our saga, you'll understand why I've chosen not to directly attack this vice. Yet.

***Six Million Dollar Man? Yeah, go google it if you don't know.

****There were a few apartments rented by a local continuing behavioral/mentally-challenged private school for the former students who can't legally stay on the property anymore.

We're Going Back to Philly

We've moved back to Philly. :) This make two very happy adventurers. While I am sad to have left behind a few absolutely wonderful friends, I just keep reminding myself, they are just a weekend visit away.

Meanwhile, Welcome to our new abode:





Come on in, the door's open!



Our Kitchen. Warning: this is the MOST counter space I have since moving out of mom and dad's! There may be food experimentation in large amounts.





That thing that looks like a tiny little dishwasher is trash compactor. I have not turned it on. I don't know if I will. We have so little trash as it is and the bags are EXPENSIVE. I can't find them in Costco either.

Our dining room. We are missing art.



The living room. The love seat is at the bottom of the picture and the couch is to the right. I am LOVING the huge windows! I'm not putting up more curtains than what you see now.



The den. It's little, but big enough for a chair, bookcase (left) and TV, on the wall the chair is facing.


Clearly, we are not lacking art. That's Chairman Meow and Red Lenin, by Warhol. Not original.

Across the hall from the kitchen is our second bedroom.



Walk down the hall you come to the main bathroom, and my favorite decor. (Well, favorite until I put up the winter set.)



And to your right is our Hobbit-sized washer and dryer.


So, funny story about the washer. I had to wash all the towels I own. ALL of them. If you know me, you're familiar with my overabundance of towels, and I had to wash all of them. So for 10, 12 loads, -all hot- it would fill, run and stop half way through. I would have to coax it to continue by spinning the dial or what not. So the first cold load it wouldn't even fill. Wouldn't do ANYTHING. I was having a fit. One of the reasons why we picked this place was because of the washer and dryer*. I'm about ready to call the office screaming and yelling about this because it won't work, how can you rent a place on something that doesn't work, blah blah blah! And then-- I noticed the cold water feed was turned to off. ~slinks away embarrassed~

So, let's get to the master bedroom.





Our master bath. I'm not sure what I want to do here. It's very echo-y and I'm not digging it. I'm thinking about putting a shower curtain in and tying it back on the right.



And as a bonus, the headboard that I love so much with lamps that mom kindly bought for me after my old ones were crushed in the move. I was sad that they were crushed, but these are really nice replacements.



Please, come and visit. Check it out in person; I want to use all that counter space to cook something up!

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*Well, I would have killed for a place with hook ups so I could use my pretty babies, but such if life. I hate laundromats, so I need something!

Added 2020: I frigging loved this apartment. I was so mad when the shit went down 6 months later. :( 

The Virginia Blogs: So I Had This Weird Conversation...

or, Why I Fear For the Future

I walked into the gas station to buy Tom some cigarettes the other night. They have the cheapest around, so it was worth the trip.

The girl, young woman?, behind the counter rings me up. "17.76" she says.

I laugh and say, "Hey that was a good year."

"I don't know nothing 'bout that. Wait. Were you born in...?"

"Yeah, I'm vampire. Didn't you notice I only come in when it's dark?" I took my purchase and left.

Ok, so why does this scare me?
1. She really had no idea why I said 1776 was a good year.
2. I could seriously see her struggling to do the math to figure out how 'old' I was.*
And- I think this one is the scariest-
3. I think she really thought I was a vampire.

No child left behind, indeed.
--------------------------
* 234 this year!

cube.

Yeah, it needs punctuation.

As you know, we've been playing mechanic trying to keep Tom's Saturn running. The A/C, the tires, the belt, the alternator. Tom drove it home one day about a month ago, just before we were leaving for bridge day, and it started bucking and stalling and not shifting. He managed to get into a parking spot here before it completely died on him.

I stood staring at it for a while, and had NO IDEA what was wrong with it. Not one clue, though we did eventually whittle it down to "probably the electrical system". But exactly what in the electrical system? The computer? The battery? The damn alternator again? A co-worker found an electrical shop that would diagnose our problem for $50. I found another co-worker who came out and poked around the engine and jumped it to listen to it (as we had earlier) and said that it was the electrical system, but it could be that the electrical system was failing because the computer was failing. All I was seeing was $$$ and I was getting tired of having to budget money in for this car to get repaired. I kept thinking about the bucking that Tom described, and how if it was the alternator or computer, what says that there wasn't a HUGE transmission problem underneath that.

I had been hoping to be a little more liquid when we started thinking about buying a new car. But it was that or start budgeting in more than a car payment a month for car repairs.

The Saturn has served us well; no two ways about that. It drove our butts around for 8 years. And it may and probably will live again as a car for a teen age driver- two co-workers are battling over it, one for a nephew and one for a daughter. Both are hobby mechanics and can take their time over months to figure out how to get it working again.

Meanwhile, we needed a new car. Tom already had one picked out, and it did fit in the budget I was trying to stick to. We tried to go through the Costco Auto Program, but the car was too new for their discounts. We still went to that dealership though, because we figured it was a good bet since they worked with Costco. Please note: We Love Costco.

It only took a test drive and walk around for us to decide that we liked it. Ok, loved it. Tom is not a traditional car person; he bought the Saturn because it only had two doors and people wouldn't want to ride in the back. (Ask my parents. And his.) This was also going to be a non-traditional, non-American car.

Ironically, I was the one who made the salesman pop the hood. Tom was playing inside and I was talking horsepower. How did that happen?

So, the next day, we went to pick up our new car. SUV? Box? Toaster? Whatever.











Oh, this thing is FUN.

Bridge Day!

Everyone should have a Bucket List. A short one with a list of things that need to be done at some point in their life, for their current location. Mine goes something like this:

1. Shenandoah, camping, Luray Caverns
2. Shenandoah, leaf peeping
3. Suffolk County Peanut Festival
4. King's Dominion
5. OBX
6. Biltmore
7. New Gorge Bridge, WV

Oh, well. Look at that. New Gorge Bridge. Hmm, there's thing called Bridge Day they celebrate there where once a year the bridge is shut down and it's a whole dang festival going on. And will you look at that, it's in October.

How wonderfully convenient. So, off we went to Fayetteville, WV.

Let me just tell you that Virginia is long damn state. The only way to mentally get through this thing is in stages. Tidewater to Richmond, Richmond to Charlottesville, Charlottesville to the end. And that last legs is a killer.

We tried to stop for dinner at a Ruby Tuesday's, but it must have been the only restaurant for a 50 mile radius. So we opted for an Applebee's. Things were going well until I sat down and spilled soda all over the table. Hurray.

We get back on the road and it's dark. I mean DARK. High beams on the highway dark. We coast into West Virginia, and have to get off the highway about 45 minutes later while the navigator is still saying we have an hour to go. It was very easy to figure out why when we get on this road to the hotel.

There are very large mountains in West Virginia. Yeah...

So for the next 50 minutes I'm driving through these dark winding back country mountain roads with the overdrive off on my automatic wishing that I still had a stick and a few FRICKIN' street lights with the occasionally country bumpkin climbing up the tailpipe. Hey, while you're up there, check the oil, ok?

Did I mention that it was drizzling the whole.time.? Yeah...

So, finally around 9:30 we pulled into the hotel, and found that the parking lot was completely filled because the hotel was booked. I think it was combination of bridge day and a WVU game. The morning, the place was empty.

Now, as our tradition goes, there must always be a picture of the view from the room. Famous ones include: Blancaneaux, Afrika! Afrika!, Innsbruck, Lake Geneva, Grindlewald, and, the best of all, Frankfurt.

So, to continue the tradition, here we have the view from our room:


Fabulous, isn't it? Nothing like staring at a Sunoco station! Thankfully, all these hotels have blackout drapes.

We hit the continental breakfast in the lobby, which was actually quite a generous spread, really. Then we were off to the bridge!

This was an interesting experience. This celebration actually shuts down a major highway for a day, and takes over a National Recreation area. You are also allowed to park on the highway.


It's a lot like a county fair, except the attractions are not rides. There were food carts and food vendors, and Bible Thumpers handing out free Bibles. Yes, I took one. Duh?


Tom's been craving a gyro ever since we got gypped out of one at the Greek Fest*.

So, you're thinking, if the food is not the reason and rides are not the reason... what is it that makes the state and national gov't shut down a major highway.

That's easy. The Jumpers.

The wha...?

The Jumpers.

You jump here:


and you land here:


and you fall through this:

976 feet to the bottom.

with one of these:

Though I don't think that I would choose that particular chute.

This is a major event for BASE jumpers. Generally, the National Park Service bans BASE jumping in all parks. Well, this particular day, it's an organized event with 800 people jumping about every 20 to 30 seconds from 9 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. This is massive organized jump-- people come from all over the world to do this jump.





I have no intention of ever doing this jump. Ever. But I do enjoy watching these nuts.

See him in the corner hands up?

Just one of 800+ nuts going off this thing for my amusement.

So, once they get down to the bottom, they are driven back up and repack their wet chutes. All that work for about minute forty of falling-- but hey, even Santa was getting into the act.


We were at the bridge for about 2.5 hours watching this. And it was a lot of fun to watch. There were a few of these people, you were holding your breath, thinking, omg, pull the chute, PULL THE CHUTE they were waiting so long.

However, that was it for the bridge. There really wasn't much more to do there. I knew that it wasn't going to be an all day thing and had a plan. I had done some research and there were a few things to do around the area, and we were on our way to Hawk Nest Landing State Park.

At Hawk's Nest, I had learned there was a jet boat trip up the river to see the bridge from the bottom, and therefore the jumping crazies.


You can see the crazy just above the tree line in this one.

But the view of the bridge and the river and the mountains was amazing.



It was a bit of an expensive little excursion, but well worth it. The rain, low clouds and cold temperatures did not take away from this at all. It was just something I had never done and may never do again and I loved every second of it.

Well, we bid the bridge goodbye and headed back up the river--

-- and had to find to what else to do with the rest of our day. We headed back to our hotel and tried to find something, only discover that where we wanted to be was 20 miles on the other side of the (closed) bridge that was 19 miles away. We decided to give it a try.

We passed the Mystery Hole that presented itself as more of a shit hole. We kept driving-- and passed some of the MOST scenic country I have seen in a long time. Waterfalls, and old mills and I was angry that we didn't have time (or a place to pull over) to take some pictures.

Driving like mad, having to go to the bathroom and tired as all get out, we missed the coalmine tour we were trying to get to by about 10 minutes because the last turn off sign for the thing was missing. *angry* So then we decided to drive back and find something to eat.

There ain't much outside of Beckley, West Virginia.

Now, it's getting late, it's getting dark, I'm getting hungry, it's starting to rain-- and the temperature is dropping. I'm on a road I've never been on before, and there's no restaurants to be found. Eventually we wound up going back to the hotel and asking what was around.

Applebee's. Yeah. Only thing in town. Great. Well, it's food. So, we went to Applebee's for the second night in a row. Hooray.

Next morning, we were up and at breakfast by 8:30 a.m. We had a long drive home and one more stop to make on the way home. You may or may not recognize this gentleman:



If you do, stop staring at nickles.

Yes, this is Mr. Thomas Jefferson, of Founding Father's fame. We decided since we were all the way out there, we might as well stop at Monticello. It was only 2 hours from home, but who knew the next time we'd be out this way. We still have stuff on the bucket list here, people!

This is a beautiful setting, and once you're up there, you know why he picked this spot to build his house, and keep his plantation. He owned most of what you see when you're standing in the gardens, which is were we started.

You catch a little bus up the hill, and should you ever find yourself here, I would recommend that. Don't walk it; there's plenty of walking to do. You're let off by a small gift shop, and you can either head up the walk to the house or you can head off down the road to the gardens and the remains of the slave houses.



A observation building at the gardens. What you see here in the foreground is the experimental gardens. Jefferson was a scientist and he was very much into botany among many other things. But his gardens played with hybrids and trying to create new strains of veggies and fruits. What they have planted now is a small representation of what Jefferson had. There's also a tree nursery just over the edge beyond that little observation building.

When you get to the end of the gardens, you walk back on the road with the slave quarters on it. However, there's not much left to them, except a random chimney and some bricks in the ground. These were all the house and grounds slaves. One little girl asked our tour guide later, "Was he nice to his slaves?" and the answer was that he may have been but he employed ruthless and cruel slavemasters, so he couldn't really answer the question. While walking by the remains of these houses, it was hard to understand why someone who would provide good shelter, plenty of food, and education, would allow crap like some of the slavemasters obviously employed. Though much as everyone else, he was a victim of his times.

The famous side of the house, much as the White House, is actually the back of the house. You walk in through the front door and are lead through house, which has a lot of it's original furniture, portraits, decoration and books. Mr. Jefferson did not believe in staircases. There are two in the house and how the ladies that lived there got up and down them in those ridiculous dresses I'll never know. They were barely 18" wide, steep as all get out, and had barely any railing.

Jefferson had so many books, he basically started the Library of Congress**. His original instruments were still in his morning chamber, which had some of the very first skylights used in architecture. They are still doing research on the house, and found that the color they have on the wall in the family sitting room is wrong and will be repainting.

You are allowed to walk under the house, as well, to see where all the work to keep the house going went on. We didn't really stop to look because -- well, we had seen more and better information about the archeology of old houses at Bacon's Castle. So we now wandered out to the formal gardens to see the famous side of the house.



It was actually cool to see it. We stood for a moment and then headed down the path back to the parking lot-- but along the way we passed the only thing that the Monticello Foundation doesn't own on the property-- the Jefferson Family cemetery. It belongs to the descendants of his white family- there are about 2000 known relatives. They are still trying to find all of his black relatives, and trying to figure out just how many of Sally Hemings's children he fathered.

Naturally, you can't actually walk among the graves; they know better than to leave it open to the public. You can easily find Jefferson's grave marker though, as it's huge.



After a walk around, we found the path back to the parking lots. I would also recommend this if you find yourself there. It's a gentle slope down to the visitor center, and a nice walk even if your feet are hurting.

We headed back down and decided to head out home. We still had two hours and we were getting hungry and wanted to be home.

Of course, I should mention that before we left the house, Tom had an experiment to perform. He reached into his pocket--



Yes, he needed to check if the nickle matched the building. He said they were off. The real building has a notably octagonal roof, and the nickle looks round. He said they shouldn't mislead people.


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*Gypped, because they RAN OUT of Gyros. What kind of Greeks run out of gyros at a Greek fest?
**I'm sure mom thinks that my collection rivals this.