Slow-Cooker Sweet and Sour Meatballs

Back to school. Luc: sophomore at BR Magnet. Fifteen in March. He's studying science with an intensity that reminds me of the way he used to study his baseball stats — complete, obsessive, with the intention of mastering every detail. He mentioned petroleum engineering again at dinner, casually, the way teenagers drop bombs casually, and I ate my rice and didn't react because Dr. Tran and I have been talking about this: the difference between my grief about the oil industry and Luc's future in it, and how the two things can coexist without one destroying the other.

Colette starts sixth grade — middle school. She walked into Glasgow with the confidence of a CEO entering a boardroom, holding a binder she'd organized the night before with color-coded tabs for every subject. Her teacher will be organized. Her classmates will be organized. The janitorial staff may find themselves organized. Nobody is safe from Colette's organizational impulse, and I mean that as the highest compliment a father can give a daughter who reorganizes his spice cabinet without permission (she moved the cayenne to the second shelf; it belongs on the first; we're in negotiations).

Rémy starts third grade. He announced at breakfast on the first day that third grade will be "easy" because "I can read recipes now, so school is basically cooking class." The school is not basically cooking class. Rémy will discover this. Rémy will be disappointed. Rémy will eat three bowls of whatever I make for dinner and get over it.

Made a back-to-school pot roast — the Cajun kind with dark roux gravy, potatoes, carrots. The pot roast is the fall-transition meal, the dish that says summer is ending and the oven is back in play and the house is going to smell like something braised for four hours, and the smell is going to greet three kids when they walk through the door at 3:30, and the smell is home.

The pot roast is the ideal, but on a Tuesday when school starts and the afternoon runs long, the slow cooker does the same emotional work — it fills the house, it greets the kids at the door, and it says someone was thinking about you at 10 a.m. when they pressed the button. These sweet and sour meatballs have become the weeknight version of that same promise: Rémy eats three portions without complaint, Colette approves of the presentation, and Luc, future petroleum engineer, eats in silence with the focused satisfaction of someone who recognizes a well-executed process when he tastes one.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 4 hrs | Total Time: 4 hrs 15 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs frozen or homemade meatballs (about 32–36 meatballs)
1 cup ketchup
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1 cup pineapple chunks, drained (optional)
1 red bell pepper, diced
2 tablespoons cornstarch + 2 tablespoons cold water (for thickening, if needed)
Cooked white rice, for serving
Sliced green onions, for garnish

Instructions

Make the sauce. In a medium bowl, whisk together the ketchup, brown sugar, apple cider vinegar, soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce, garlic powder, and ground ginger until fully combined and the sugar is mostly dissolved.
Load the slow cooker. Place the meatballs in the slow cooker in an even layer. Add the diced red bell pepper and pineapple chunks, if using. Pour the sauce over everything and stir gently to coat.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 4 hours or on HIGH for 2 hours, until the meatballs are heated through and the sauce has thickened slightly around them.
Thicken if needed. If the sauce is thinner than you’d like, whisk together the cornstarch and cold water in a small bowl. Stir the slurry into the slow cooker, replace the lid, and cook on HIGH for an additional 15–20 minutes until the sauce coats the back of a spoon.
Serve. Spoon meatballs and sauce over cooked white rice. Garnish with sliced green onions and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow-Cooker Sweet and Sour Meatballs — When the Oven Comes Back to Life