Meatballs and Memories: A Tribute to Jim Jenkins
I remember the man before I remember the meatballs, but not by much. Jim Jenkins—my dad’s best friend and neighbor—was a fixture of my childhood, a constant presence who made the world seem a little more grounded. He was the kind of guy who’d show up unannounced to fix a broken gutter or help haul firewood, always wearing that easy grin, the one that let you know things were under control. And then, there were the meatballs.
Jim didn’t just make meatballs; he *crafted* them. These weren’t the limp, bland hunks of meat you’d find in a cafeteria tray. No, Jim’s meatballs were transcendent—spiced with something that was almost alchemical, slow-cooked to perfection, and carrying the kind of flavor that could make you rethink what you knew about comfort food. Every potluck dinner was an event, and Jim’s arrival with a tray of his signature meatballs was like the opening act of a rock concert. People gathered around in anticipation, plates in hand, conversations dropping off as they waited for that first bite.
There was something personal about his cooking, as if every meatball carried a little piece of Jim with it. They were made from the same care and attention that he applied to everything in life. Maybe it was that, or maybe it was just damn good meat, but when Jim was in the room, and those meatballs hit the table, you knew you were in for something special.
Potlucks were a big part of our community. Neighbors brought casseroles, salads, and desserts—but it was Jim’s meatballs that stole the show every time. They had this magical ability to bring people together, to make everyone shut up for a minute and just *appreciate* the simplicity of good food made with love. Jim never bragged about them either—he wasn’t the type. He’d just set them down with a wink and a shrug, maybe crack a joke about how he hoped they weren’t “too spicy” for anyone. Of course, they never were. They were perfect.
Jim was a man who knew how to live well, and I don’t mean in some flashy, high-octane way. He knew how to appreciate the quiet moments, the warmth of a shared meal, the satisfaction of hard work done with your hands. His legacy isn’t just those meatballs—though God knows they’re legendary—but the sense of community he fostered every time he showed up with that tray. In a world that can feel overwhelming and chaotic, Jim Jenkins was a reminder that sometimes the most important things in life are also the simplest: good friends, good food, and a table full of laughter.
Jim’s gone now, but every time I smell a simmering pot of sauce or bite into a meatball that’s just a little bit better than it has any right to be, I think of him. And I smile, because guys like Jim? They don’t come around often, but when they do, they leave you with something unforgettable.
I’d give anything for one more potluck with Jim Jenkins and his perfect meatballs. But more than that, I’d give anything for just one more conversation with the man himself. Because like his cooking, Jim was someone who always left you wanting just a little bit more.
Jim’s incredible meatballs in BBQ sauce – Buffet-style
Ingredients
For the meatballs (if you are in a hurry, frozen meatballs work well for this too):
- 1 cup breadcrumbs I like to use Panko
- ⅓ cup milk
- 1 lb ground beef
- 1 lb ground pork
- 4 cloves garlic minced
- 2 eggs
- 1 cup finely-grated parmesan cheese
- ¼ cup finely-chopped fresh Italian herbs parsley, basil, oregano, thyme
- ¼ cup yellow onion grated
- 2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
- 1 tsp dried oregano
- 1 tsp
- Salt and pepper
- ¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
For the sauce:
- 3/4 cup water
- 2/3 cup of your favourite BBQ sauce
- 1 cup brown sugar
- 2 tbsp vinegar
- 2/3 cup ketchup
- 1/2 tsp ginger
- salt and pepper
Instructions
For the meatballs:
- Make the panade. In a large mixing bowl, stir together the breadcrumbs and milk until combined. Set mixture aside to soak for 5 to 10 minutes while you prepare the other ingredients. Then use a fork to briefly mash the mixture into a paste.
- Combine remaining ingredients. Add the ground beef, ground pork, garlic, eggs, Parmesan, fresh herbs, onion, oregano, salt, black pepper, crushed red pepper flakes and Worcestershire sauce to the (same) mixing bowl. Use your hands to mix the ingredients until evenly combined, being careful not to over-mix the ingredients.
- To make the meatballs easier to form, I recommend covering and chilling the mixture in the refrigerator for 1 hour. But if you’re pressed for time, you can skip this step.
- Prep oven and baking sheet. Heat the oven to 425°F and line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Form the meatballs. Using a medium cookie scoop or a spoon, scoop and roll the mixture into 2-tablespoon balls and place them on the prepared baking sheet (grease your hands with a bit of olive oil to prevent the mixture from sticking).
- Bake. Bake for 10-12 minutes, or until an instant-read thermometer measures the internal temperature of the meatballs to be 160°F. Remove pan and transfer to a wire cooling rack.
For the sauce:
- 3/4 cup water
- 2/3 cup of your favourite BBQ sauce
- 1 cup brown sugar
- 2 tbsp vinegar
- 2/3 cup ketchup
- 1/2 tsp ginger
- salt and pepper
- Mix all sauce ingredients in a large saucepan and simmer on low heat for 30 minutes, stirring frequently. If you want to use all the meatballs, double the sauce quantity… or more if you like it saucy.
To finish the dish:
- Add meatballs to the sauce and cook on low for 30 minutes to an hour.
- Serve and enjoy!
