By Super Bowl prep is underway — the Fifth Annual Rivera Super Bowl Cookout. The menu has become a standard that I am reluctant to change because the crowd expects it: smoked mac and cheese (the star, always the star), wings (buffalo and chile-lime), smash burger sliders, jalapeño poppers, and smoked queso. This year I am adding one thing: a smoked pork belly burnt ends appetizer that I have been developing for competitions and that I think will translate to a party setting. Pork belly, cubed, rubbed, smoked for three hours, then tossed in a sauce of brown sugar, butter, and my BBQ sauce, and smoked for another hour until they are sticky, sweet, smoky, and addictive.
The test batch was this weekend. I made two pounds of burnt ends and brought them to the firehouse. The crew ate them in four minutes. Travis did not speak for thirty seconds after his first piece, which is the longest Travis has been silent since joining the department. Rodriguez said, "Those are going on the Super Bowl menu." I said, "They are already on the Super Bowl menu." He said, "Good."
News from the world: there are reports of a new virus in China. A respiratory thing, apparently bad. At the station, we have been briefed on pandemic protocols — standard stuff, happens every few years when a new flu strain emerges. SARS, H1N1, MERS. The department updates procedures, we review PPE protocols, and usually nothing happens. I am not worried. The world produces a new scare every year and Phoenix is a long way from Wuhan.
Jessica is more attentive to the news than I am. She mentioned the virus at dinner and I said, "It will not come here." She said, "You do not know that." She is right. I do not know that. But I am a firefighter — I deal with emergencies when they arrive, not before. Worrying about a virus in China while my brisket needs trimming feels like misallocated anxiety.
Sofia's soccer league starts in March. She has been practicing every evening — dribbling, passing against the fence, shooting at the PVC goal I made. She is disciplined in a way that surprises me for a six-year-old. She does not practice because I tell her to. She practices because she wants to be good. The internal drive, the self-motivation — that is not something you teach. That is something you are.
The burnt ends are locked in for the Super Bowl menu, but if you want that same sticky, sweet, gone-in-four-minutes energy without the three-hour smoke, Cranberry Meatballs and Sausage is the move — it delivers the same sweet-savory punch that left Travis speechless, and it holds beautifully in a slow cooker while you manage the rest of a five-item spread. Rodriguez would approve. Sofia would steal three before dinner.
Cranberry Meatballs and Sausage
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 2 hr 30 min | Total Time: 2 hr 45 min | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 1 (32 oz) bag frozen fully cooked meatballs
- 1 lb smoked sausage, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
- 1 (14 oz) can whole-berry cranberry sauce
- 1 (12 oz) jar chili sauce
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar
- 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Instructions
- Make the sauce. In a large bowl, whisk together the cranberry sauce, chili sauce, brown sugar, Worcestershire sauce, garlic powder, onion powder, and black pepper until fully combined.
- Load the slow cooker. Add the frozen meatballs and sliced sausage to a 6-quart slow cooker. Pour the cranberry sauce mixture over the top and stir gently to coat everything evenly.
- Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 2 to 2 1/2 hours, stirring once halfway through, until the sauce has thickened and the meatballs are heated through and glossy.
- Hold and serve. Switch the slow cooker to WARM for serving. Provide toothpicks and serve directly from the insert. The sauce will continue to thicken slightly on WARM — stir before each wave of guests.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 16g | Fat: 19g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 820mg