Mama's things

I have a bowl I reserve just for meatballs. That's how often we eat them. I can remember my grandmother, known as Mama (Mah-MAH) serving pasta with meat sauce in the same vessel. It's not a fancy piece of china, and there's no artisanal stamp on the bottom. It's painted with flowers and fruit. It's the perfect size for meatballs...and I think I make great meatballs.

 I've watched my grandmother (who owned the Red Riding Hood cookie jar), then my own mother make these little meaty morsels. You can't mix meatballs with a fork or spoon. You take off your wedding band and dive in wrist deep. It's how it's done. My husband asked for spaghetti and meatballs this week. I have converted my meat and potato man into a meat and pasta guy. This bowl will never see the dishwasher... It's a hand wash item. And it's already back in the cupboard ready for it's next batch.