So, it's Passover, again, and that means sweet and sour meatballs for my family. I don't know why--It's probably in the bible, somewhere. I can hear Moses now: "Enough of this manna! I want meatballs!" Anyway, I call them the poison meatballs. Seriously, I can't tell you what's in them because it's a violation of everything healthy. It's...BAD. But so good! So, even though Passover will not be at my house this year, I'm bringing the meatballs to the occasion. Five pounds of them. I need to give credit where credit's due: The meatballs were my great aunt Tilly's recipe. Tilly was such a sweet woman and a good cook. She also made killer coleslaw. And she was an artist. We used to have an "Original Tilly" painting somewhere, but it got lost. Anyway, my mother took over the meatballs, and so everyone in my family now thinks of them as my mother's balls. I mean, meatballs. Since, she's not with us, it's up to me. Will I succeed? Will I fail? I don't know...but we should probably have 911 on speed dial.
5lbs of meatballs:
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