You would think that I came from hunger.
I stockpile like a squirrel in autumn. (And like squirrels, I sometimes forget where the hell I stockpiled my treasures, but that is another matter for a day when we are discussing organization. Today, we are not). I don’t feel safe unless there are plenty of foodstuffs laid by, whether for unexpected guests, an emergency supper, the coming of The Apocalypse, or the nuclear winter. I’m a Cold War baby and that’s how I roll.
There’s nothing I like more than a pantry full of stuff with which to make meals, except a freezer full of stuff that is already made (by me, of course, because the supermarket has freezers full of simulated-food garbage I won’t pay for, cause it’s simulated food garbage I won’t eat).
Thus, this meatball recipe – a variation on my dad’s excellent meatballs. We call them
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