It’s National Meatball Day! Those delectable spherules of seasoned wads of assorted meats. Of course, an Anthony Bourdain’ish hook would’ve roped everyone in a few years ago. But things have changed. It’s like health nuts are surveying us from the Internet’s rooftops like in comic books. Anywhere there’s a place to discuss what we eat, they’re there, waiting. Thinking we need their discourse. Rain drips from their mask as they stare hard into the gritty back alleys of our diet choices and vices. They have intense internal monologues with themselves. “Meat, soy, gluten, and GMOs. These are more than aggressive unsolicited comments ruining everyone’s day. It’s more than projecting my dieting neuroses!” Like chill, damn. Always on our timelines with the anthroposophic medicinal pseudo-scientific condescensions. Anyway, here’s my solution. How about a soy, gluten, and GMO-free meatless ball?
“Plant-based meatball” sounds stupid. Right? Think about it. What is a plant-based meatball? There’s no meat, duh. I should have patented this. But geniuses like myself (or total fucking morons) don’t have time for all that. I’m getting older and realizing always trying to make a buck off everything is what’s wrong with New York now. Spread love. It’s the Brooklyn way. Which is why I chose to name this dish “Biggies.” And you have to pronounce it as the Bed-Stuy rapper says it in the second verse of “Unbelievable,” but plural.
Despite an Italian discovering New York in 1524, Italian cuisine was a rare one. Mainstream America saw it as low class. Everything from pizza, olive oil, pasta, and red sauce. Even macaroni and cheese. And yes, meatballs—ghetto. At one point in the Prohibition era, the media claimed that it made people want to consume alcohol. So when and how did these Southern Italian dishes become Americanized?
It happened for the food and culture in the 1980s. Northern Italy pushed a more refined and expensive image of Italian cuisine. That’s when Italian food as we know it exploded into mainstream American culture. Especially in New York City, a New York-style slice or the whole pie isn’t made like in Naples. Then there’s Olive Garden, founded in 1982, starting in Orlando, Florida. Some think it is where servers serve you hot Tuscan-inspired meals one step above frozen dinners. But as a millennial 80s baby, Olive Garden was good to us. So were our neighborhood pizza spots in New York—they still are. Today in America, one million boxes of macaroni and cheese are sold daily. You can’t tell a Black person they don’t make the best macaroni and cheese. And many of these dishes don’t look or taste like their Italian predecessors.
We can say the same for most cuisines or cultures that have become Americanized—the nuances and shifts they undergo. Something about America changes them, varying from city to city and state to state. New York does, for sure. For instance, General Tso’s chicken, a Hunanese-inspired concoction, is tweaked for American tastebuds. An invention of New York. The modern bagel, too. Some argue that things become stripped of their identities and appropriated. In Western Civilization, nothing is original. Certain cultures have a time when they dominate certain things. At least for a while, then it transcends into mainstream acceptance. Greek and Roman. The British way to the American way. And the image of the American gangster is no exception.
The Black Hand (1906) is one of the first commercial portrayals of an American gangster. The Musketeers of Pig Alley (1912), directed by D. W. Griffith. The movie featured alleged real mobsters. Let’s not forget Al Capone, also known as “Scarface.” He’s from Park Slope, Brooklyn. The 1990s not only transformed the Italian-American image but the American gangster also. Everyone in entertainment wanted to portray one, and there are too many greats to name. Among them are The Sopranos, which The Washington Post called a “television landmark.” There’s Casino and Goodfellas. Or one of Biggie’s favorites, King of New York (1990).
Biggie became the “King of New York” because of his position in hip-hop. Source Magazine gave the title to him for an issue he appeared in, and it stuck. I find it odd that out of all portrayals of gangsters in the media, Biggie’s is somehow a negative one. Biggie wasn’t a gangster. And I say this as a father, husband, and Black millennial New Yorker. He stopped selling drugs to pursue a music career. He didn’t kill people. I see him no different than Christopher Walken dancing in his Plaza Hotel room as “Frank White.” An accomplished artist.
No one leaves unfair comments online about James Gandolfini or Ray Liotta. The “live as a gangster dies like one” stuff. Joe Pesci was typecast his whole thriving career. They’re among my favorite performers, by the way. But my point is Biggie’s life ended at twenty-four years old. He didn’t get a chance to become a mature adult man as they did.
What I’m trying to say is you can’t mention Brooklyn and not mention Biggie. Especially today, it’s the day he died. Again, it’s also National Meatball Day. Italy didn’t create the meatball, but the Italian-American meatball is a classic dish. So, what’s an inclusive solution? How about a soy, gluten, and GMO-free meatless ball? My offering to Brooklyn. It’s an easy dish to make.
“B-I-G, G-I-E. A-K-A, B-I-G. Get it? Biggie (remember, add the “s”)! Also known as the bon appétit…” – The Notorious B.I.G.
