You’ve all heard the spaghetti song right? “On top of spa-ghetti, all covered with cheese, I lost my poor meat-ball, when somebody sneezed, it rolled off the ta-ble and onto the floor, and then my poor meat-ball, went out through the door, it rolled through the gar-den and under a bush, and now my poor meat-ball is nothing but mush.” Well I’m here to tell you, that it was indeed a poor, pooor meatball, and his uncanny escape from food hell and certain death was nothing short of a miracle and certainly not the result of a simple sneeze. You must first understand the frankensteinian process that makes a meatball before you can understand the meatball itself. Ask yourself: “what goes on during the process of making a meatball?” The meat is ground, then formed, and then baked at an incredible temperature (at least to the meatball)! And SOMEWHERE in that process: the meatball gains consciousness. So it was that in this state of new birth, our particular meatball came about during the forming process. He was suddenly thrown inside a tray-ish prison with many others and was suddenly forced as low as he could go by some weird, clear force field. For weeks him and the others sat in their icy dungeon, blinded by lights, and all they could see where more of these prisons surrounding them, one by one being picked up by huge giants and going off to seemingly freedom. One day one of these giants picked up our meatball’s prison. The warmth of their giant hands and of the surrounding air was wonderful! The meatballs all started to shout for joy! Now they would finally see just where the giants took the others. After many SPECTACULAR sights and sounds, they finally arrived at the giant’s dwelling. And FINALLY after all these weeks, the force field was removed. Now of course all food knows that it’s an unspoken rule not to act on your own when in front of giants, so of course they all stood still and silent. Suddenly, our little meatball friend and the others were transferred to a larger, more shiny tray, lots more room I might say and they were all very comfy. But it was a temporary bliss—for soon they were placed in a dark chamber, what seemed to be glowing snakes above them appeared and what was not so long ago a pleasant warmth turned into a fiery hell. I do not need to go into details about what went on inside that oven, but know that it was terrible. About 1/3 hour later the glowing snakes disappeared and the door was open. Our meatball more dead than alive barely managed to open his eyes and see the carnage… all the others seemed just as he, but they did not open their eyes. They were taken to a table surrounded by giants of all different sizes. They were thrown into a pile of noodley snakes and then had a strange, red goo poured ontop of them followed by the graded flesh of a once was cheese block. Then they were all thrown about! This way and that way! Up and down! Side to side! And miraculously our little meatball ended up on the very tippy top of carnage hill. He was more awake than ever now, and though he did not know exactly what was going to happen, he did see the various torcher implements each giant held in their hands. It was now or never. Conveniently a member of the table let out a huge sneeze right ontop of the food pile. Unlike the impression you get from the song, this sneeze did NOT push the meatball entirely. More so, it happens that right before the sneeze, our meatball decided to break free and jumped the inch that he could right as the sneeze came about, which pushed him all the way down the food pile and he was able to roll the rest of the way off of the table before anyone could grab him. He continued rolling toward the door, dodging the dog, the cat, and everyone else for who knows why STILL trying to grab him. He finally made it out the door when one of the running giants slid right it, slamming it shut for a few valuable seconds for our meatball. He managed to make it to the garden before the door was re-opened, and when it did, out poured all the giants, one of whom shouted “there it is! It’s heading for the garden!” By the time our little meatball reached the garden the giants where already there looking for him. He hid under a lettuce leaf until dusk and all the giants gave up and went back inside. He felt a huge sigh of relief, he was finally free! But then the sprinklers came on and our meatball rolled for cover. He found a bush and hid under it. And it is in this state that the song ends “he rolled through the gar-den, and under a bush, and now my poor meat-ball, is nothing but mush”. But truth be told, it did not take him long to find the bush and it was actually very dry under there during the duration of the sprinklers. It was more in the minds of all those giants who quite enjoyed the rest of their meal, thinking that our little meatball was nothing but mush. However I’m glad to tell you that he went on to be part of the cuisine underworld and helped thousands of meatballs and other food groups escape certain death.
As we go about our lives, rarely do we ever stop to think of the fictional lives of our food: and probably for good reason. But today I would like to invite you on an exciting journey through the birth and life- journey of a meatball… ‘The Meatball’, of all time, from the beloved silly spaghetti song that we should have all learned by now. Come with me to discover the truth behind the legend and pass on the legacy!