By I've been noticing a thing with Sarah and I don't know what to do about it. She talks into my silences. Not in a bad way — not with nervous chatter or deflection — but with a generosity that I can't quite receive. I go quiet in the middle of a conversation and she fills it with something, a question or an observation, and it's always a good one, always something worth saying. But the silence is a thing I need sometimes and the filling of it, however well-intentioned, makes me pull back further.
I can feel myself pulling back and I can see her noticing the pulling back and I can see her trying harder because she can see me pulling back, which makes me pull back more. It's the mechanics of something I don't know how to stop once it starts.
I told Gary on Thursday. He listened to the whole thing and then said, "You have to tell her that. Not as an accusation. As information." I said I didn't know how. He said, "You say: sometimes I need the quiet to process. It's not about you. It's how I work." I said, "What if she can't give me that?" He said, "Then you find out."
The ranch is in post-roundup quiet now. The cattle are settled, the calves are shipped, the bulls are pulled. The days are short and getting shorter. I've been making the elk chili in batches, adjusting the recipe, getting closer to the version I want. The combination of pasilla and ancho with a small amount of cascabel is better. The beer — I use non-alcoholic IPA now — adds a bitterness that the recipe needs.
I'll tell Sarah this week. I'll tell her what Gary said to tell her.
The elk chili is still a work in progress—I’m getting closer, but it’s not ready to share yet. What I can give you is this: the other thing I’ve been making in batches during these short post-roundup days, something that requires almost no thought and rewards the kind of quiet, repetitive kitchen work that helps me process things. Cranberry chili meatballs aren’t a substitute for the conversation I need to have with Sarah, but standing at the stove with something steady to do has a way of loosening what’s stuck in me. Gary was right—you say it as information, not accusation—and I figured out how I was going to say it while I was stirring this sauce.
Cranberry Chili Meatballs
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs ground beef (80/20)
- 1/2 cup plain breadcrumbs
- 1 large egg, beaten
- 1/4 cup whole milk
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 can (14 oz) whole berry cranberry sauce
- 1 bottle (12 oz) chili sauce (such as Heinz)
- 1 tablespoon brown sugar
- 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 400°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil and lightly coat with cooking spray.
- Mix the meatballs. In a large bowl, combine the ground beef, breadcrumbs, egg, milk, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Mix gently with your hands until just combined—do not overwork the meat.
- Form and bake. Roll mixture into 1 1/2-inch balls (about 24 meatballs) and arrange on the prepared baking sheet. Bake for 18–20 minutes, until cooked through and lightly browned.
- Make the sauce. While the meatballs bake, combine the cranberry sauce, chili sauce, brown sugar, and Worcestershire sauce in a large saucepan or deep skillet over medium heat. Stir until the cranberry sauce melts into the chili sauce, about 5 minutes.
- Combine and simmer. Add the baked meatballs to the sauce. Reduce heat to low and simmer uncovered for 12–15 minutes, turning the meatballs occasionally, until the sauce thickens and coats them well.
- Serve. Transfer to a serving dish or keep warm in a slow cooker on the Low setting. Serve over rice or with toothpicks as an appetizer.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 290 | Protein: 16g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 31g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 610mg