Comfort Food

Wednesday August 26, 2020 was a shitty day, shitty even by the standards of 2020, the year that has redefined the term annus horribilis for most of us, perhaps Queen Elizabeth excepted. On Wednesday afternoon, at 91 years of age after years of health struggles, Ann's mother Mary Chiappetta died of natural causes in the ICU at Arlington Hospital Center in Virginia after a three-week stint on a respirator. Although we expected it, our inability because of COVID to travel from Oregon to be there with her made a bad experience so much more horrible for us, especially for Ann.

We feel grief at her loss, torment at not having been able to say goodbye at the end, and guilt born of not being there for her. Compounding these emotions is the question of how we can possibly in good conscience have a real funeral service to honor her life under these pandemic conditions. The adjective shitty that I used above does not even come close to capturing the depth and rawness of these emotions.

For comfort in horrible times, we turn as so many do to comfort food. Tears streaming down her face and between racking sobs, Ann implored me to cook her something comforting. After some discussion we arrived at pasta, a baked pasta with tiny meatballs. Ultimately, I think Ann was beyond caring what I made, but what is more comforting for a good Italian girl than pasta?

As I was going out the front door to the store to pick up groceries for the next ten days, including supplies for the pasta, Ann yelled after me, "Get beer!" "No shit!" I remember muttering to myself. And so in the fog of a stunned mood, I vaguely recall going to the store pretty much on autopilot to get ingredients: tomatoes, Italian parsley, ziti, ground pork, mozzarella, and ricotta.

Baked Ziti and Meatballs

I won't lie and deny that I bought some really good beer, a couple of craft hazy IPAs, and I also won't deny that cooking interrupted the beer drinking at times. It was just that kind of day. Through the fog of grief and beer, I managed somehow to take some passable photos. I also won't deny that writing this is my way of trying to process and come to grips with the hurt. Here's a quick primer on how to make a baked pasta with meatballs.

Meatball Spices

I've been through making meatballs several times on this blog, so just a refresher here. I always start by mixing the herbs and spices with the liquid ingredients so that they get evenly distributed in the the meat. For a pound of ground meat, I would use one egg, about a tablespoon each of basil and oregano, 3-4 garlic cloves, a teaspoon of Kosher salt, and a large pinch each of black pepper and red pepper flakes. To this, if I am doing restaurant-style meatballs, I'll add a half a cup of heavy cream, but at home, I use chicken stock instead.

Meatball Mix

After mixing the spices well into the liquid ingredients, in goes the meat, in this case ground pork, because pork makes awesome inexpensive meatballs. Veal is amazing, but who can afford it or even find it at the store? I don't care for beef meatballs and so I avoid beef and the so-called meatball mix of a third pork, veal, and beef. I made sure to break the meat apart gently before folding it with my hands into the liquid and spice mixture. Then I asked my trusty assistant to sprinkle in a handful of panko. As I mixed it in, I could feel that it wasn't enough to bind the mixture, so Ann added another handful.

I let the mixture stand for a few minutes before rolling it into small meatballs. This rest period gives the panko time to absorb the liquid and firm up the mixture.

Blender Marinara

While the meat mixture was resting, I made a batch of blender marinara, the easiest sauce ever. Into the blender, I dumped two 28-ounce cans of diced tomatoes in juice, two minced cloves of garlic, a tablespoon of dried basil, and a teaspoon of Kosher salt. Ten seconds of blending and presto!

We never kept marinara on hand at the restaurant, even though parents often ordered it for their kids. It was simple enough to whir it up in the blender on the fly and have it to the table nicely warm, but not screaming hot, within four minutes using par-cooked pasta.

I stressed to all my cooks that time was of the essence because no parent can relax with a hungry child at the table. I always sent the pasta out warm, not hot, so that the kids, who invariably shoved their hands right in the plate, would not burn themselves and so they could eat right away without fretting and fidgeting while their dinner cooled. Then mom and dad could relax over a glass of wine while we cooked their food.

If you will indulge me one more aside apropos of marinara, canned tomatoes is something I am really picky about. I will buy store brand or private label of some vegetables (artichokes, beans, chickpeas, etc.), but I will not risk my tomato-based dishes on generic tomatoes. I am brand loyal with tomatoes because I want consistent product in the can, each time that I open one. Sometimes that does not happen with packer tomatoes.

I want consistently ripe tomatoes without green pieces, cores, and skin, and with a consistent ratio of flesh to juice. Back east at home, I used Cento brand and out here, I have settled on S&W, a Del Monte brand. Yes, they cost more, but I won't risk my food for a few cents. It's not the brand name that matters to me; I care only that each time I open the can, I get the same product as every other can that I have opened.

Raw Meatballs Ready for Oven

Cooked Meatballs

Although you can fry meatballs before braising them in sauce, I'm fairly lazy and just put the raw meatballs into the sauce. These small meatballs took about an hour or so in a moderate oven to braise. Larger meatballs take longer. If you are uncertain about whether the meatballs are done, they should be at an internal temperature of 160F, 165F if they contain poultry.

Partially Cooked Pasta, Italian Parsley

Once the meatballs were done, I par-cooked two pounds of ziti to about two-thirds done, then mixed the drained pasta with fresh Italian parsley, the meatballs, about 3 cups of ricotta, and enough marinara (just shy of a quart, so about a quart leftover) to coat everything. After seasoning with salt and a bit more red pepper flakes, I put the mix into a baking dish and topped it with grated mozzarella.

Ziti Before Topping with Mozzarella

Baked Ziti

The oven was still going from baking the meatballs, so it didn't take too long to get a nice crust on the cheese, perhaps 35-40 minutes. After the baked pasta cooled for the better part of an hour, I sliced it into squares as you see in the very first picture above and we devoured it. For the sake of comfort, we ate far more of the pasta than we should have and drank more beer than we should have. But no regrets: what else to do on the shittiest day of 2020, the year that is proving to be the shittiest of our lives?

RIP Mary Chiappetta. You were sharp as a tack, funny, personable, frugal to a fault, direct, opinionated, not one to be on the wrong side of, and as big a fan of me as I was of you. I was privileged to be your son-in-law. In trying to find humor amidst the at times overwhelming sadness, I hope that wherever you are, there are no turkeys and baby goats on your bed. And may 2020 not become any more horrible.