In modern-day America, I am what they call a single mother. In Sweden, where marital status does not dictate societal standing, I would be known as, simply, a mother; in France, where women are not defined by the existence or absence of progeny, I might just be called a woman. We'll leave aside any discussion of what they would call me in the time capsule of a place that is Sicily--an ominous statement that I, as a one-quarter Sicilian, am freely permitted to make.

Semantics aside, being a single mother means there are nights when my son is at his dad's house and I am alone. I am learning to view these nights as an opportunity for self-care and growth instead of filling my time with activities that crowd out any thought or reflection entirely. With this in mind, I try (for once) to take it slow. Relax. Prepare home-cooked meals just for me--then sit down and tell you all about it. That's one of the reasons we're here. 

My son has something of an adventurous palate for a four-year-old, but he is also, like most of his cohort, inherently suspicious of new things. If I could posit a cultural analogue for his palate, I would say that it is decidedly Japanese in temperament: initially wary, with carefully-crafted rules of engagement that can be overcome, with patience, once he has been methodically won over. Indeed, if the Japanese could open their arms to ramen, maybe someday Declan can learn to accept things like flecks of prosciutto in his pasta or, as in the above photo, a sprinkle of chives on his non-spaghetti noodles. 

But it is not this day.

Which is why nights like these are also my time to eat all the foods that Declan won't allow me to enjoy when we are together. It is like a reverse-Home Alone, in which the overbearing family members are embodied in one child, in the absence of whom MacMommy Culkin can play a little. And here is the object of my play tonight: creamy chicken meatballs smothered in rich marsala wine sauce, all over simply-prepared, buttery egg noodles. This recipe seemed so comforting, so homey, so depths-warming, that I couldn't resist. It was fairly easy to prepare, and came out perfectly--just like the pictures in the cookbook, which is an incredibly satisfying (and rare) feat for a neophyte cook like me.

Although Declan would never* approve of the chicken meatball teeming with suspicious pieces of roasted onion, and thick, wide, as-yet never-encountered egg noodles, I found the entire meal as pleasing to the heart as it was to the stomach. I will definitely be making this again, and I encourage you to do the same--especially on a night when you really need to feel the deep, tender kind of love that comes from feeding yourself something worthy of your very soul.

Meatballs Marsala with Egg Noodles and Chives (adapted from the Smitten Kitchen: Everyday)

Meatballs
1 lb ground chicken
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp salted or unsalted butter, depending on your tolerance for salt. I used salted.
1 sm yellow onion, minced
1 tsp kosher salt, plus more for onion
1/2 c unseasoned panko breadcrumbs
1 large egg
1/4 c whole milk
freshly ground black pepper

sauce
1/4 c dry Marsala, sherry, or Medeira (I used Medeira)
3 tbsp salted or unsalted butter - again, I used salted
3 tbsp all-purpose flour
1 3/4 c chicken stock or broth - I used broth with a moderate salt content
1/4 c heavy cream
salt and freshly ground black pepper

noodles
12 oz wide egg noodles
1 tbsp salted/unsalted butter - guess which one I chose?
4 tsp minced fresh chives

Prepare the Meatballs
Place the chicken in a large bowl. Meanwhile, heat a large, heavy saute pan over medium heat. I used a 12-inch All Clad, which worked perfectly. Once the pan is very hot, add half the olive oil and butter and, once they are also very hot, add the onion and two pinches of salt. Cook, stirring constantly, until the onion is a deep golden brown, approximately 5 to 7 minutes depending on the heat-conducting strength of your pan and the heat-providing strength of your stove. My pan was more powerful than my stove top, so it took about 7 minutes for me. Once cooked, allow to cool slightly--no more than 2 minutes, just to take the edge off--and add to the bowl with the chicken, along with the panko, egg, milk or water, 1 teaspoon of salt, and about 5-10 grinds of black pepper depending on how much spice you like in your life. Given the tagline of this blog, do not be surprised to learn that I added about 12 grinds of black pepper. 

Select a large plate for assembling your meatballs. Then, using a soup spoon, scoop up approximately 2 tablespoons of meatball mixture at a time and lightly toss back and forth from palm to palm to create a quasi-spherical shape (in much the manner you would toss an egg back and forth between shells to remove the egg white). The meatballs will seem messy and not quite round, but don't despair. You're exactly where you need to be.

Add the remaining butter and oil to your frying pan over medium heat. Don't worry if there are little bits of onion in your pan from the previous step. I certainly didn't. 

Arrange the meatballs in one layer. They will seem way too loose, but like femininity itself, you will find that they hold together quite firmly when you turn up the heat. 

Don't move the meatballs until they have browned underneath, otherwise you will end up with pieces of meatball stuck to the bottom of your pan--a circumstance that impinges on your ability to do all the good work you're about to do, so resist even peeking at them for about 3-4 minutes. Once they have browned on the bottom, nudge and roll them around the pan until they are as evenly browned all over as possible. I used tongs to flip them to all their different sides and ensure no part was left unbrowned. Finally, remove the meatballs with a slotted spoon or kitchen tongs and drain on a plate with paper towels. 

At this point, fire up another boiler with a large pot of salted water and bring to a boil.

Sauce Time
Without cleaning out the meatball pan, add your sweet cooking wine (in my case, Medeira), and simmer until it's almost completely cooked off, scraping up any browned bits that have stuck to the pan. Add the butter and let it melt, then whisk in flour and cook, stirring, for one minute. Slowly add the broth, whisking the whole time. At this point, the mixture becomes a little clumpy. This is ok; it will be remedied when you add the cream, which you will do now, bringing the whole thing to a simmer and continuing to whisk. Really go after any clumps of flour and have faith that they will dissolve into the creamy broth. They will! Add salt and pepper to taste: I added approximately 2 tsp of salt and 10 grinds of pepper, but really do take the time to taste with each addition of these ingredients, as this is your opportunity to tailor the salt and spice profile to your own unique palate.

Return the meatballs to the pan, turn to coat them in the sauce, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cover. If you don't have an adequately-sized pan cover, another pan of the same size will do. Let the meatballs simmer in the sauce for 10 minutes. Pick the chunkiest meatball and make a little cut to ensure that it is cooked through. If not, give them a couple more minutes.

Cook the Noodles
By now, your pot of salted boiling water should be boiling. Empty the noodles into the pot and stir. Per the original recipe, do not cook the noodles for the amount of time recommended on the package! My package called for 10-12 minutes of cooking, and my noodles were done in 6-7. Remember that they will continue to steam in the strainer and will soften even more with the addition of sauce. That said, I am Italian, and I like my noodles a tiny bit al dente. If you actually like yours overdone--and there are no wrong opinions when it comes to food--know thyself and give them a bit more time. 

Put it All Together
Place the noodles in a bowl with a generous pat of butter and toss. Add meatballs and all that delicious gravy on top. Garnish with chives. Then pick your favorite spirit--I chose a Southern Tier Pumking, a seasonal favorite--and have a little carpet picnic, reflecting on how lucky you are to be able to enjoy a meal like this, whether with the people you love, or with the person you're going to spend the rest of your life with: your wonderful self.