My grandmother is really sick.
She's in the hospital and will probably remain there for a long, long time.
My mom spends every moment there and for the past month has not had a single home cooked meal.
So today I woke up with a mission: I was going to cook my family dinner.
Not only was I going to cook dinner, but I was going to attempt a family favorite: my mom's famous meatballs.
I knew that this would not be an easy task. My family is very partial to these meatballs. They would taste if even one thing was out of place. But I knew that it had to be done. I would take on mission almost impossible and I would conquer it.
I was very confident until I reached the supermarket. Who knew that there were so many types of ground beef. And was ground beef the same thing as minced meat? Should I get medium or extra lean? I chose a package of medium ground beef and headed home. Once home, I realized that I had forgotten a few ingredients.
Back at the supermarket for a second time, I was fortunate enough to bump into my mother's best friend. I told her about my mission and she encouraged me to overcome my cooking qualms. I think my efforts might have touched her heart. I decided to ask her about my choice of ground beef. I showed her proudly what I had already bought and brought home. She then crushed my spirits by telling me that you use extra lean beef in meatballs, so that the sauce isn't overfowing with grease and fat. She told me to freeze the medium beef I bought and use it to make hamburgers later in the week.
On my way home with the new package of meat, and now 40$ behind because of ground beef, I thought to myself, "how will I ever be able to hack it on my own?". How do mothers know this? Is there some sort of mothers handbook? They just always seem to know what to do and how to do it. I bet my mother would have bought the extra lean ground beef without thinking about it.
I spent the next couple of hours struggling to make the meatballs without blowing up the kitchen. There were times when I wondered what ever made me think I could make meatballs. The particular moment when I thought this for the first time was when some of the meatballs started to fall apart in the sauce. But as time went on, the familiar smell eased my worries.
They look a little sloppy but they taste like meatballs to me.
The ultimate test will be when my mom and dad come home and taste them.
For now I will allow myself and hour or two of self-accomplishment.
I made meatballs.
I am a cooking extraordinaire.
