I Didn't Know He Could Do That
The Friday Newsletter ponders the end of an era, then offers up Asian-inspired meatballs, my best spin on an essential cocktail, dark pop music, an embrace of comedies with middling reviews + more!
The biggest news always breaks while I’m driving.
I’m in front of a computer all day long, and all day long, small news happens.
A new bourbon bar is opening in Louisville.
A long-shot candidate said something uncontroversial on the campaign trail.
Taco Bell is introducing a new “It’s Just a Bag of Loose Beef” menu item.
Then, invariably, two minutes after I get in the car to head home from the office, something comparatively earth-shattering will happen. A league-altering trade or free-agent signing in a sport I care about. Another indictment of a former president. (Usually the same one, if we’re being honest.) The Taco Bell Beef Bag going on sale.
Wednesday night, it happened again.
I had just pulled onto the highway, and suddenly I could feel my watch buzzing with text notifications. My group texts were abuzz with something, but I couldn’t check while I was driving. Then, just after parking at my kids’ school, I saw what it was:
Nick Saban was retiring??
Now, I trust that many readers of The Action Cookbook Newsletter are college football fans, given that I wrote about the sport for years prior to launching this newsletter. Many of you already know full well what I’m talking about. If you don’t, though, let me put this in I-swear-this-isn’t-hyperbole terms:
For a large portion of this country, this was our version of Queen Elizabeth II dying.
Nick Saban is—was? that feels weird to type—the head coach of the Alabama Crimson Tide for the past seventeen years. In that time, he won six national titles and finished in the AP Top Ten sixteen times. Save for his first year in Tuscaloosa, he never lost more than three games in a season. His teams sent dozens of players to the NFL, and a generation of coaches got jobs by merit of beating him once, or rehabbed derailed careers by joining his staff. He set the standard by which all other coaches were measured, and very few could measure up.
His retirement—much like the death of the Queen—was the sort of thing that had been discussed plenty as a future possibility or even mathematical probability, with all sorts of plans for what might ensue when it did happen.
When it did, though? I felt a bit like King George in Hamilton.
Is that true?
I wasn't aware that was something a person could do.
I'm perplexed, are they going to keep on replacing whoever's in charge?
If so, who's next?
There's nobody else in their country who looms quite as large…
Don’t get me wrong. As a fan of a Not-Alabama school—in fact, a school that ran into an Alabama-shaped brick wall in its sole playoff run—Nick Saban has been a villain to me for years. I have reveled in his losses, rare as they were, and dreamed of a day when Alabama wouldn’t be borderline-invincible. I always respected him, though—I was comforted by the notion of a sport with him in it.
Next year, we’ve got a bigger playoff coming, with bigger conferences and bigger schedules.
Somehow, though, the sport will feel much smaller without him.
You know what’s not retiring? The Friday Newsletter.
We’ve reached the cusp of another weekend, my friends, and I’m here to do my part to make yours a little bit better. Today, I’ve got a delicious Asian-inspired meatball recipe, my best version of a quintessential cocktail, fun recommendations in music, movies and games, and much more!
Just this once, for Coach Saban: roll tide.
Ball don’t lie
One of my most favorite foods in this world is a proper Vietnamese bánh mì.
This love was set the first time I ever had one, at Nicky’s in the East Village. It was perfected by the excellent Ba Xuyên in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, and reinforced by many dozens of take-out dinners from Henry’s Vietnamese Sandwiches in Park Slope. With ground pork, ham, pâté, mayonnaise, pickled vegetables and hot sauce on a light-yet-crusty French baguette, it might be the most perfect sandwich in creation.
And I haven’t had my ideal version of one in years.
I’m not going to have it today, either, though.
Instead, I’m going to use it as the jumping-off point for a meatball recipe, one that’ll be more within my culinary reach, and stand in for the pork, ham and pâté in my home version of the sandwich. Is it the same? No. Is it authentic or right? Also no.
Is it good, though?
Yeah. I think it is.
Bánh Mì Meatballs
1-1/2 pounds chicken thighs
3/4 pound pork belly
1 cup cooked sticky rice
1 small onion, finely chopped
8 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 tablespoons lemongrass, very finely chopped
1/2 cup cilantro, chopped
2 tablespoons oyster sauce
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1 teaspoon Maggi seasoning (or soy sauce)
Run the chicken thighs and pork belly through a meat grinder on the coarse setting. (If you don’t have a meat grinder, substitute a mixture of ground chicken and ground pork—it’ll be fine, if a bit less fatty. Maybe that’s a plus? I’m not here to judge.)
Combine the chicken/pork mixture, rice, onion, garlic, lemongrass, cilantro, oyster sauce, fish sauce and Maggi in a large bowl, and work together with a spatula. (Alternately, mix in the bowl of a stand mixer, but be careful not to over-work.)
Form the mixture into 12 equal balls, roughly 3-3.5 ounces in size, and place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake at 375F for 25-30 minutes.
Quick Pickled Vegetables
1 cup shredded carrot
1 cup daikon radish, cut into matchsticks
1/2 cup rice wine vinegar
1/2 cup white wine vinegar
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup white sugar
Add the carrot and daikon to a Mason jar, and pour the sugar over top.
Mix the vinegars and water and bring to a boil in a small saucepan. Remove from the heat, and pour over the vegetables in the jar. Seal the jar, shake well, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes—preferably longer.
I couldn’t find the perfect crusty baguette I’d normally associate with a bánh mì, so I settled for a ciabatta loaf, because I will not let the great be the enemy of the good. I added Bibb lettuce, Kewpie mayonnaise, and pickled jalapenos, along with the carrot/daikon pickles and meatballs.
It wasn’t quite the sandwich I pine for. But it still banged.
Now, it’s time for a cocktail.