Chocolate Snowballs

Wigilia. Fourth year hosting. Tommy's second Christmas (technically — he was two months old last year and doesn't remember anything). He's fourteen months and he's mobile and the house has been baby-proofed and grandparent-proofed and still he manages to find the one outlet cover that Tom missed and pull it off with the determination of a tiny engineer.

I made the twelve dishes. Megan made pierogi alongside me — her dough is expert now, her filling ratios are perfect, her folds are tight. We stood at the counter together, Tommy in the high chair between us, and made pierogi as a family. Three Kowalskis at the counter. The tradition is not just continuing. It's multiplying.

Tom said grace. Tommy said "ba" during the prayer, which Tom interpreted as "amen" and which I interpreted as the baby demanding food. Both interpretations are valid. Patrick poured the Jameson. Colleen brought the trifle. Linda held Tommy and fed him tiny bites of pierogi and he ate them and clapped and Linda cried because Linda always cries and because watching her grandson eat pierogi is apparently the most emotional experience a grandmother can have.

I got the call this afternoon. The brewery. The interview panel has selected the new head brewer. They want to offer me the position. Head brewer at Lakefront Brewery. Thirteen years after loading my first keg. The call came during Wigilia. During the twelve dishes. During the tradition. I said, "I'll take it." I said it standing in the kitchen Babcia would have loved, holding a phone in one hand and a pierogi in the other. Yes. I'll take it.

The small Lakefront Brewery shift-work continues to be the small steady-paycheck. The small forty-hour-week brewery-floor job pays the small twenty-two-an-hour rate that the small Milwaukee-blue-collar-economy supports. The small benefits are the small union-decent. The small ten-year-tenure-target is the small career-anchor.

Megan is from a small Irish-Catholic Milwaukee-suburban family. The small Sunday-dinners at her small parents’ house rotate with the small Sunday-dinners at Jake’s parents’ house. The small in-laws on both sides have been the small welcoming-presence. The small two-family-network is the small extended-support the small newlywed-life rests on.

The small future-kid-conversations have begun. Megan teaches small fourth-grade at a small public school in Wauwatosa. The small adoption-vs-biological conversation is in the small early-discussion stage. The small five-year-plan includes the small kid-or-kids in some form. The small kitchen is the small place where the small future is being practiced.

Megan and Jake married in June 2024. The small newlywed-rhythm is in its small second year. The small two-bedroom rental on the small east-side of Milwaukee continues to be the small first-home. The small thirty-year-mortgage-eventually-someday is the small five-year-goal. The small marriage is the small foundation the small life is being built on.

The small Polish-American heritage is the small kitchen-identity. The small pierogi-recipe-cards from Babcia Helen (Jake’s grandmother who passed in 2018, who had lived two blocks from the small Bay-View family-house) is the small monthly-Saturday-tradition. The small kielbasa-and-sauerkraut. The small bigos. The small recipes that came over from the small Krakow-region in the small 1910s.

The small Milwaukee-winter is the small six-month-condition. The small cold-weather-comfort-food rotation runs October through April. The small soups, the small stews, the small braises, the small heavy-baked-goods. The small Midwestern-comfort-vocabulary is the small kitchen-language.

After the call — after I said yes, after I stood in that kitchen holding a pierogi and a phone and thirteen years of brewery floors — we needed something sweet to close the night. Chocolate Snowballs had been Babcia Helen’s contribution to the twelve dishes for as long as I can remember: no-bake, rolled in powdered sugar, dusted like the Milwaukee sidewalks outside. Tommy got powdered sugar on his chin. Linda cried again. Patrick said they were better than he remembered. That felt right. Everything felt right.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes (plus 1 hour chilling) | Servings: 24 snowballs

Ingredients

2 cups vanilla wafer crumbs (about 60 wafers, finely crushed)
2 cups powdered sugar, divided
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 cup finely chopped pecans or walnuts
1/3 cup light corn syrup
1/4 cup bourbon or dark rum (or orange juice for a non-alcoholic version)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Pinch of salt

Instructions

Combine dry ingredients. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the vanilla wafer crumbs, 1 cup of the powdered sugar, the cocoa powder, the chopped nuts, and the pinch of salt until evenly combined.
Add wet ingredients. Pour in the corn syrup, bourbon (or juice), and vanilla extract. Stir with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula until the mixture comes together into a firm, uniform dough. It should hold its shape when pressed — if it feels too dry, add corn syrup one teaspoon at a time.
Chill the dough. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or up to overnight. Chilling makes the dough easier to roll and helps the flavors meld.
Roll into balls. Place the remaining 1 cup of powdered sugar in a shallow bowl. Scoop about 1 tablespoon of dough and roll between your palms into a smooth, round ball roughly 1 inch in diameter. Repeat with remaining dough.
Coat in powdered sugar. Drop each ball into the powdered sugar and roll to coat generously on all sides, pressing gently so the sugar adheres. Set on a parchment-lined baking sheet or plate.
Rest and serve. Let the snowballs sit at room temperature for 30 minutes before serving so the coating sets. For a thicker snowy crust, roll in a second coat of powdered sugar just before plating.
Store. Keep in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 1 week, or refrigerate for up to 2 weeks. The flavor deepens after the first day.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chocolate Snowballs — The Sweet That Closed Out the Best Wigilia of My Life