Tyler's baseball team played their first game Tuesday. I left work early — told my regional manager I had a family thing, which is true and also none of his business — and sat in the bleachers at Elsik High School, which is the same high school I graduated from in 1992. Same bleachers. Same chain-link backstop. The field looks exactly the same, which is either comforting or depressing depending on your philosophy.
Tyler played shortstop. He went 1-for-3 with a single and a nice backhand play on a ground ball. He looked calm out there, which is something I was never able to be at his age. I was all nerves and anger and trying too hard. Tyler's got this quiet focus that I think he gets from Christine. I'll give her that one.
The thing about watching your kid play sports is that you feel everything they feel, except you can't do anything about it. When he struck out in the third inning, I felt the bat not connect. When he got the hit in the fifth, I felt the crack. My hands were shaking in the bleachers. Forty-one years old and a JV baseball game has me more nervous than a sales presentation.
After the game — they lost 7-4, but Tyler played well — I took the kids to Whataburger because some traditions are sacred. Tyler got a Patty Melt. Emma got chicken strips. Lily got a kids' meal and spent most of the time playing with the toy. I got a number one combo and we sat in that orange booth and I thought: this is it. This is the whole thing. The game, the drive-through, the kids in the booth. This is what I almost lost.
I don't romanticize sobriety. It's not a superpower. It's the absence of the thing that was killing me. But it gave me this — the ability to be in a Whataburger booth after my son's baseball game and actually be there, not half-drunk and checking my phone and thinking about the next drink. Present. That's the word. I get to be present.
Back home I made a late-night snack for myself — cha gio, Vietnamese egg rolls, fried crispy in a wok. My mom's recipe: ground pork, crab meat, glass noodles, wood ear mushroom, taro, jicama, wrapped in rice paper and deep-fried until golden. They're not health food. They're the opposite of health food. They're crunchy on the outside and savory on the inside and you dip them in nuoc cham and everything is right with the world.
I ate six of them standing over the stove. Don't judge me. It was a good day.
That night after the game — after the Whataburger booth and the orange light and the kids and everything that meant — I still had some energy left and I needed to do something with my hands. I couldn’t make cha gio at midnight and expect anyone to sleep, so I leaned into something with the same spirit: savory, saucy, deeply satisfying, and done in under thirty minutes. These Asian-style meatballs with sweet chili sauce aren’t my mom’s recipe, but they hit the same note — that umami-forward, slightly sweet, dip-it-in-something feeling that makes a late-night snack feel like a reward. Some days you earn it.
Asian-Style Meatballs with Sweet Chili Sauce
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4 (about 20 meatballs)
Ingredients
- 1 lb ground pork (or a mix of pork and beef)
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 tsp fresh ginger, grated
- 3 green onions, finely sliced (plus more for garnish)
- 2 tbsp soy sauce, divided
- 1 tsp sesame oil
- 1/4 cup breadcrumbs
- 1 large egg
- 1 tbsp fish sauce
- 1/2 tsp white pepper
- 1 tbsp neutral oil (vegetable or avocado), for cooking
- For the sauce:
- 1/2 cup sweet chili sauce
- 1 tbsp soy sauce
- 1 tbsp rice vinegar
- 1 tsp sesame oil
- 1 clove garlic, minced
- 1 tsp sriracha (optional, for heat)
- Toasted sesame seeds and sliced green onions, for garnish
Instructions
- Mix the meatballs. In a large bowl, combine the ground pork, garlic, ginger, green onions, 1 tbsp soy sauce, sesame oil, breadcrumbs, egg, fish sauce, and white pepper. Mix with your hands until just combined — don’t overwork it or the meatballs will be tough.
- Shape. Roll the mixture into balls roughly 1 to 1 1/2 inches in diameter. You should get about 18–22 meatballs. Place them on a plate or sheet pan as you go.
- Make the sauce. In a small saucepan over medium-low heat, whisk together the sweet chili sauce, soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, garlic, and sriracha if using. Warm for 3–4 minutes until slightly thickened. Remove from heat and set aside.
- Cook the meatballs. Heat neutral oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add meatballs in a single layer, working in batches if needed. Cook for 3–4 minutes per side, turning to brown all around, until cooked through (internal temp 160°F), about 12–15 minutes total.
- Glaze. Pour the sweet chili sauce over the cooked meatballs in the pan and toss to coat. Let them simmer together for 1–2 minutes so the glaze tightens and sticks.
- Serve. Transfer to a plate or bowl. Garnish with toasted sesame seeds and sliced green onions. Serve immediately — ideally standing over the stove, no judgment.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 380 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 21g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 890mg
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 8 of Bobby’s 30-year story
· Houston, Texas
Bobby Tran was born in a refugee camp in Arkansas to parents who fled Saigon with nothing. He grew up in Houston straddling two worlds — Vietnamese at home, Texan everywhere else — and learned to cook from his mother's pho and a neighbor's BBQ smoker. He's a former shrimper, a recovering alcoholic, a divorced dad of three, and the guy who marinates brisket in fish sauce and lemongrass because he doesn't believe in borders, especially when it comes to flavor.