Meatball Wars

Well the gauntlet has been laid. The challenge proclaimed. The dare established. One of the gentlemen that works with my daughter has questioned whether me, a daughter of Italy, can make a decent meatball. He thinks that my having a "Polish" last name now disqualifies my inner heritage, that of being able to make a decent meatball.

My daughter defended my honor. My husband and I have come to know, from experience, what happens when she gets angry, and the passion of her heritage begins to emerge. There is no stopping her. Being a product of Polish and Italian ancestry leaves one with fiery passion and the ability to stand up for what one believes is right. Oh that is my daughter. I salute her coworker for igniting that passion, but I question his sanity. Why would he want to even go there???

And so, on Friday it began, the Meatball War. Who makes the better meatball? What is the secret ingredient? Is there a particular method that makes the perfect meatball?

My daughter told her friend that he can say what he wants, but he may not dare to discuss the quality and uniqueness of her mom's meatballs. (She has been taught well!) To prove and uphold my honor, I had to make meatballs this weekend. He made his meatballs too. The judging takes place tomorrow. A panel of judges has been determined. I have no doubt that my meatballs will prevail. I am well known for my meatballs. So is my mother. And her mother before her. Yes, it is a family talent, and one I will make sure my daughter acquires also.