Written with the same spirit as a certain movie (but with no affiliation), this story is meant to give one the same feeling as its namesake; guilty pleasures and an uncertainty about what one is reading. It was written in the spirit of Halloween and for all my friends and horror movie buffs and should be taken that way. The recipe is real and the meatballs and the marinara are wonderful. They are also much easier to eat off of a plate instead of a skewered resident of a certain netherworld.
It was a fun story to write but after painting the styrofoam heads and leaving them around until I could make the meatballs, I found myself moving them from room to room.
They really were a little unnerving and are now in storage.
It was a sign that I had accomplished my mission.
He promised an experience I would not soon forget. He was a vendor at some random flea market. I didn't frequent them often but I found myself with some unexpected free time. So I ventured through the rows of dealers and there he sat, alone, with not much to sell. I watched him observing others, smiling as they passed and then, almost as if he felt me watching him, he turned and waved me over.
I reluctantly approached. He reached under his table and pulled out a wooden box.
"What's your pleasure, Miss?"
"Excuse me? Well, I enjoy cooking I suppose."
He pushed the wooden box over toward me.
"Take the recipe box. It is yours."
I came home and played around with it. It was unlike any recipe box I had ever come across. It looked very old and worn. As I went to open the wooden box, I realized it was a puzzle. I carefully twisted and turned the movable pieces and the brass trimmings fell off. In fact, the entire box fell apart. It fell out of my hand piece by piece and I was glad momentarily that the old vendor didn't charge me for it. Momentarily was the key word. As the box fell apart and the pieces hit the floor, I realized I was no longer alone. I felt breath upon my neck. I heard the unmistakable sound of leather brushing up against itself. I knew it had to be my crazy brother ready to prank me again...
"You solved the box. We came. Now you must come with us. Taste our pleasures." the sound of the voice echoed in an unfamiliar tone.
"Solve the box? I think I broke the box." I nervously joked as I turned to lay my eyes upon a sight which will remain burned into my memory for all of time. My eyes shifted from the man to the woman. Disbelief turned into horror. They studied my evolving range of emotions, starting out laughing and ending with a scream of that was too horrified to manifest.
They seemed pleased by my reaction as they smiled almost in unison. In their eyes a black universe resided filled with untold horrors. The phrase 'taste our pleasures' repeated in my mind. My first thought was escape. I saw in their eyes, myself, a scared piece of prey resorting to the primal fight or flight instinct. I immediately shifted all of my energy into reacting like a sentient being instead of an animal. I wasn't sure I could outwit them but running wasn't an option. Fighting? Not so much.
"What pleasures do you offer?" I looked directly into their black eyes, scanning their faces for any reaction that I could use. There it was, a momentary 'taken aback' look from the man. Interesting.
"We have such sights to show you!" the woman smiled as I felt myself being dragged to another realm, my familiar world fading away. The screams came but too late.
"Welcome to Hell's Kitchen." The man pushed me into a room. The couple stood behind me acting as a barrier to freeing myself from the kitchen I now stood in.Flames devoured the walls turning into walls of their own. Knives dangled from the ceiling on chains. A man with the horns of a ram stood behind the counter sizing me up with a look of disgust.
"Well, come on then! Don't stand there like a friggin' idiot, get in here and cook!!!!" His angry English voice echoed throughout the room. The couple pushed me forward. A stream of expletives flowed from the man's mouth. He wore a chef's jacket that read Norton Ramsthese, Head Chef.
"Do you see the friggin meatballs I have stuck in this man's head?!?!"
"Yes." I looked at the man who lead me here. He had pins and skewers piercing his skull. Attached to the skewers were meatballs. It was very odd.
"Have you never been to a friggin kitchen before?!?! The proper response is 'Yes, Chef" you trollop!!!!" he screamed in a British accent. So, the devil comes from Britain, I thought, momentarily amused.
"Yes, Chef." I replied, playing along. He had knives and lots of them.
"Those are turkey meatballs. They aren't just any turkey meatballs; they are the best bloody damn turkey meatballs in hell!"
"Yes chef." I assumed that's what he wanted to hear.
"And do you see this wench with her friggin skull cut open?'
"Yes chef."
"That friggin brainless wench holds the best friggin marinara sauce the world has ever seen!" The chef's arms were flying. His face was red. His eyes were red. Flames in the kitchen rose higher.
I looked over at the woman and she did not look pleased. I wondered if it was because he insulted her intelligence or because he had filled her head with a bowl of sauce.
The ram horned chef nodded to the couple behind me. I had a really bad feeling as I felt their arms grasp my shoulders and turn me around to face them.
"It is time. Taste our pleasures." I felt flames nearby as I tried to back up and the couple grew closer. Once again I could feel their breath upon my face.
"Come on you hen...eat the meatball. We haven't got all night!" The ram wined and paced running his hand over his face to his horns.I couldn't do it. My arms were made of lead and fear had taken its toll. I felt the heat of the flames and felt a cold metal something barely brushing up against me as I backed up. I thought I may faint but does one get relief from fainting in hell? I then thought better of it. The feeling of cold smooth metal against my skin, on my arms, grew. I was bound. The metal had wound itself around my arms and wrists and lifted them high. A new horror rose within me.
"Smells good, doesn't it?" His evil skull barely brushing against my face.
The skewer was in the woman's hand now as it rose to the top of her skull dipping into a red
marinara.
She held the meatball coated in red sauce to my face, the Italian herbs were there again but I smelled garlic and wine. The aroma of Chianti filled the air and I almost wanted to taste but I couldn't. I watched the marinara drip down the skewer and onto her hand.
It disappeared instantly as the man quickly lapped up whatever sauce ran down her arm."Taste." Lady Marinara whispered to me.
"Oh come on!!!" A very irritated British yelled. "Do I have to do everything?!?!?"
The couple stepped back as he almost rammed them away using his horns, grabbing the skewer in the process.
"This is how you do it!" He grabbed my hair hard, tilting my head slightly back and before I could protest or yell or fight my mouth was open and had a meatball in it.
"Chew!" He commanded.
"Yes, Chef." I kind of said, my mouth full, trying to speak and eat both at once; both reluctantly. He shook his head in disgust.
I chewed and surprisingly it was good. It tasted like no turkey meatball I have ever had. I felt a guilty pleasure taking over me. What had I done? I enjoyed a turkey meatball from hell? I was going to have to do penance for a very long time, I thought. That was if I ever got out of here.
The chains disappeared and I stood there, arms free. All three subhuman demonic beings grinned. What now, I thought. The chef with ram horns grabbed my arm and led me into the kitchen to show me how to make them. He seemed eager to share his recipe. He began to mix turkey with Italian sausage. I protested at once, never having seen the two combined. Why use turkey then?
The next thing I knew I was laying on the floor next to a broken recipe box. There was a piece of paper beside it containing the recipe.
A sticky note was attached ... "If you mangle this recipe I will mangle you. -Chef Ram sees all"
I wondered if that's how the happy hell couple ended up all skewered and mangled. It was too good not to make but dare I chance ending up like them?
Time would tell.
Italian Turkey Meatballs
Lots of ingredients but believe me, they're sinfully good and worth the extra effort.
1 lb Sweet Italian Sausage
2 lbs Freshly Ground Turkey
1 cup Fresh Breadcrumbs
1/2 c Finely Grated Parmesan
1/2 cup Whole Milk
1 Onion, Chopped
1 tbsp. Tomato Paste
1/2 tsp Fennel Seed
2 Cloves Garlic, minced
1/2 cup Flat Leaf Parsley, chopped
1/4 cup Fresh Basil, chopped
1/4 cup Fresh Oregano, chopped
1 tsp Kosher Salt
1/2 tsp Freshly Ground Pepper
2 Eggs, beaten
Olive Oil
- Place fresh breadcrumbs in a small bowl. Pour milk over it, set aside.
- Place meat in a large bowl, don't mix just yet.
- Heat 2 tbsp olive oil in a frying pan over medium heat.
- Add chopped onions. Sprinkle lightly with a little bit of salt.
- Saute until just browning.
- Add fennel seeds to warm through.
- Add garlic. Cook 30 seconds.
- Add a tablespoon of tomato paste
- Let cook for a minute.
- Add to meat bowl.
- Add the soaked bread crumbs, parmesan, fresh herbs, salt and pepper and beaten eggs. Now you can mix. Use your hands (minus any rings) and mix ingredients lightly but well.
- Form into 1" balls.
- Preheat oven to 350.
- In a 12" frying pan, add enough olive oil so it will cover about half of the meatballs. Turn heat to medium and let the oil heat for a few minutes. It is ready when a drop of water just begins to sizzle. If your oil starts to smoke or if a drop of water starts to crackle and pop, turn the temperature down a bit.
- In batches, fry each meatball until browned on all sides and place in a rimmed baking sheet.
- Bake 20 minutes.
- Add to your favorite marinara.
The Marinara
This marinara, although made with canned tomatoes instead of fresh, has a light, bright flavor. It uses fresh herbs and lots of wine and a little bit of honey. It's a perfect compliment to our hellishly good meatballs. It so good, you may even find yourself double dipping; then again....
1 Onion, chopped
4 tbsp. butter
4-5 Cloves Garlic, minced (4 large, 5 small)
4 tbsp. Extra Virgin Olive Oil
2 tbsp. Tomato Paste
1 Cup Chianti
2 28 oz cans Whole San Marzano Tomatoes
1/2 cup Italian Flat Leaf Parsley, chopped
1/4 cup Fresh Basil, copped
1/4 cup Fresh Oregano, chopped
2 tbsp. honey
Red Pepper Flakes
Salt and pepper to taste
- Melt butter in a stockpot over medium heat.
- Add onion. Cook until softened.
- Add garlic and olive oil.
- Add tomato paste. Let cook a few minutes (4 or 5)
- Add Chianti. Let alcohol cook out, about 5 minutes.
- Add canned tomatoes. Use a potato masher to break them apart.
- Add honey and red pepper flakes.
- Simmer about 20 minutes.
- Add fresh herbs and let simmer another 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.
- Taste and adjust seasonings, add salt and pepper to taste.
Hungry?
The events depicted in this blog are purely fictional. Any similarities to any real life experiences or to characters with meatballs skewered to their heads or heads filled with marinara are purely coincidental. Any references to any similar movies or TV shows, real or imagined, are also purely coincidental. This blog is not endorsed by anyone who may look or speak like the characters portrayed. It is endorsed by the author and she encourages you to try her recipes. They are very good. Do not however try to skewer real people. Do not try to fill another persons head with marinara. (Tummy's are OK.) The characters portrayed were made from Styrofoam wig heads, not real people. She artfully created them for your viewing pleasure.
Thank you.
All content and rights reserved ©2013 Thyme After Time 33
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