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Meatball Subs — The Food My Mom Makes When Everything Is Changing

I withdrew from ODU this week. Went to the registrar's office on Monday, signed the forms, returned my parking pass. Dr. Kim's office door was open as I walked out and she saw me and said, 'Rachel?' with a voice that was half question, half understanding. I told her. She said, 'Don't stop writing.' I said, 'I won't.' She said, 'I mean it. You have something. Don't stop.' I cried in the car. Not because I was sad — because it was over and the relief was so enormous it had to come out somewhere. Three semesters. Seven classes. One published article. One professor who said I had something. That's what I'm taking with me. Dana was upset. We met for coffee — our last campus coffee, though neither of us said so — and she said, 'You know this is about Ryan.' I said, 'It's about money.' She said, 'It's about BOTH and you know it.' She's not wrong. Ryan is part of the calculation. Not because he told me to leave — he'd never — but because knowing him makes me want a different life than the one ODU was offering. A life that's less theoretical and more lived. A life where I'm IN the kitchen, not writing about kitchens from a library table. Dana and I are still friends. We'll always be friends. But there was a shift this week — the shift that happens when two people's paths diverge and they both know it. She's going forward at ODU. I'm going... somewhere else. The bookstore gave me full-time hours immediately. Carla said, 'I've been waiting for you to figure this out.' Which is either prophetic or insulting and with Carla it's always both. Ryan came up this weekend. He held me on the couch and said, 'You did the right thing.' I don't know if he's right. I know it felt right. I know the weight of the loan payments I WON'T have feels lighter than the weight of the loan payments I would have. I know that standing in Mom's kitchen feels more like home than standing in the ODU library ever did. Mom made her meatball subs for dinner — her Italian meatballs in marinara, stuffed into hoagie rolls with provolone and toasted under the broiler. Comfort food. Transition food. The food she makes when something is ending and something else is starting, though she'd never say that. Ryan ate four. Dad ate three. I ate two and thought about Professor Kim saying 'Don't stop writing' and Mom saying 'One semester' and Dana saying 'It's about both' and Ryan saying 'You did the right thing.' They're all right. All of them. And I don't know what comes next. But the meatball subs are warm and Ryan is here and the bookstore opens at 9 AM tomorrow and life goes on. It always goes on.

Mom didn’t say anything profound when she put these on the table Friday night — she just made them, the way she always does when something big is ending and something else hasn’t quite started yet. I’ve been thinking about that ever since: how she expresses care in marinara and melted provolone instead of words, and how that’s sometimes exactly right. If you’re in the middle of your own transition — or if someone you love needs to feel held without being lectured — make these. They’re warm and filling and they don’t ask anything of you.

Mom’s Italian Meatball Subs

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 lb ground beef (80/20)
  • 1/2 lb ground pork
  • 1/2 cup breadcrumbs (Italian-seasoned)
  • 1/4 cup whole milk
  • 1 large egg
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/4 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
  • 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese, freshly grated
  • 1 tsp dried oregano
  • 1 tsp kosher salt
  • 1/2 tsp black pepper
  • 2 tbsp olive oil (for browning)
  • 1 jar (24 oz) good-quality marinara sauce (or homemade)
  • 6 hoagie rolls, split lengthwise
  • 12 slices provolone cheese
  • Butter or olive oil, for toasting rolls

Instructions

  1. Soak the breadcrumbs. In a large bowl, combine breadcrumbs and milk. Let sit for 5 minutes until the milk is absorbed. This keeps the meatballs tender.
  2. Mix the meatballs. Add ground beef, ground pork, egg, garlic, parsley, Parmesan, oregano, salt, and pepper to the breadcrumb mixture. Mix gently with your hands until just combined — do not overwork or the meatballs will be tough.
  3. Form the meatballs. Roll mixture into balls about 1.5 inches in diameter (roughly the size of a golf ball). You should get 18—20 meatballs. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet.
  4. Brown the meatballs. Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Working in batches, brown the meatballs on all sides, about 2—3 minutes per side. They don’t need to be cooked through — just browned. Transfer to a plate.
  5. Simmer in sauce. Pour marinara into the same skillet. Nestle browned meatballs into the sauce. Bring to a gentle simmer, cover, and cook over low heat for 20 minutes, turning meatballs once halfway through, until cooked through.
  6. Toast the rolls. Preheat your broiler. Lightly butter or brush the cut sides of the hoagie rolls with olive oil. Arrange on a baking sheet and broil 4—5 inches from the heat for 1—2 minutes, until just golden. Watch them closely.
  7. Assemble the subs. Spoon a little marinara onto the bottom of each toasted roll. Nestle 3 meatballs into each roll and spoon more sauce over the top. Lay 2 slices of provolone over each sub.
  8. Broil to melt. Return the assembled subs to the baking sheet and broil for 1—2 minutes until the provolone is melted, bubbling, and beginning to brown at the edges. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 620 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 28g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 1180mg

Rachel Abernathy
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 74 of Rachel’s 30-year story · San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.

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