I met Tom. Tom Birch. Elsa's someone.
He arrived on Saturday afternoon in a truck that looked like it had been through several national forests and emerged with character. He was tall, bearded, tanned, wearing flannel (in May — in Duluth, flannel in May is perfectly reasonable). He shook my hand and said, "Mrs. Johansson, it's a pleasure. Elsa talks about your cooking every time we have dinner."
Mrs. Johansson. No one has called me Mrs. Johansson since Paul's funeral. The name is Paul's name, given to me in 1988, and hearing it from this man in flannel in my hallway was like hearing a song you forgot you knew.
I said, "Call me Linda. And come eat meatballs."
He ate meatballs. He ate twelve. Twelve. The man ate twelve of my meatballs in one sitting and he said, "These are the best meatballs I've ever had," and I said, "You should try my mother's," and Elsa said, "Mom, yours are better," and I said, "Don't tell Mamma," and Tom looked confused because the meatball politics of the Johansson family require a orientation session that he hasn't had yet.
He's good. He's kind in the simple, unpretentious way that kind people are kind — he helped clear the table without being asked, he talked to Sven as if Sven were a person (correct approach), and he looked at Elsa with eyes that said: I can't believe this woman exists. I've seen that look before. Paul looked at me that way. The recognition look. The this-person look.
After dinner, Tom and I sat on the porch while Elsa walked Sven. He said, "Linda, Elsa told me about Paul. I'm sorry." I said, "Thank you, Tom." He said, "She said he loved the lake." I said, "More than anything except the family." He said, "I understand that. The lake and the woods — they're the thing. The permanent thing." He gets it. He gets the lake. He gets the permanent.
I approve of Tom Birch. Not that Elsa needs my approval — she's twenty-six and she makes her own decisions — but I approve. He eats twelve meatballs. He talks to the dog. He gets the lake.
The meatball welcome: complete. The Johansson handshake: delivered. The verdict: approved.
Tom ate twelve meatballs that Saturday, and I’ve been thinking about meatballs ever since — what it means to feed someone for the first time, to watch them reach for a second helping and a third and keep going. My mother’s recipe and mine are a whole politics unto themselves, but when I want to make meatballs for a new table, a new person, a new chapter, I reach for something with a little more surprise in it. These Game-Day Thai Chicken Meatballs have that quality — they’re the kind of thing you bring out and watch someone’s face change. Tom would have eaten twelve of these too. Maybe more.
Game-Day Thai Chicken Meatballs
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs ground chicken
- 1/3 cup panko breadcrumbs
- 1 egg, lightly beaten
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
- 2 green onions, thinly sliced
- 2 tablespoons soy sauce, divided
- 1 tablespoon sesame oil
- 1/4 cup sweet chili sauce
- 2 tablespoons natural peanut butter
- 1 tablespoon lime juice
- 1 teaspoon sriracha (or to taste)
- 1/4 cup warm water
- 2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped, for garnish
- Sesame seeds, for garnish
- Cooking spray or neutral oil
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 400°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper and lightly coat with cooking spray.
- Mix the meatballs. In a large bowl, combine the ground chicken, panko, egg, garlic, ginger, green onions, 1 tablespoon of the soy sauce, and sesame oil. Mix gently until just combined — do not overwork the mixture or the meatballs will be dense.
- Form and bake. Using a tablespoon or small scoop, roll the mixture into balls about 1 1/2 inches in diameter and arrange on the prepared baking sheet. Bake for 20–25 minutes, until cooked through and lightly golden on the outside.
- Make the Thai sauce. While the meatballs bake, whisk together the sweet chili sauce, peanut butter, remaining 1 tablespoon soy sauce, lime juice, sriracha, and warm water in a small saucepan over low heat. Stir until smooth and warmed through, about 3–4 minutes.
- Toss and serve. Transfer the baked meatballs to a serving bowl or platter and spoon the sauce generously over the top, or toss them directly in the sauce. Garnish with fresh cilantro and sesame seeds. Serve warm with toothpicks or over steamed rice.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 280 | Protein: 24g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 520mg
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 267 of Linda’s 30-year story
· Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.