Pigs in the Blanket

It was inspired by a head of garden Savoy cabbage that begged a proper culinary appointment~
'Twas a cold blustery day, and no longer could I ignore the fond recollection of a delicious dish my mother made when we were young.  I remember the joy I felt (and the immediate salivation) when my brother and I would ask what was for dinner, prompted no doubt by the whiffs of goodness coming from the kitchen, and she would give us the answer: Pigs in the Blanket.
With only a memory and a mission to accomplish (Mom was not available for a phone consultation at that moment), I headed to the market to fetch the missing ingredients on my grocery list.
I chose to use ground veal, although was sure that in my humble Midwestern location, beef would have been the more readily available choice.  Garlic, onion, and ample herbs: marjoram, parsley, and thyme were scooped into the basket as well.  At home I had the rest: veal stock, rice, Marsala, farm fresh eggs, and homemade tomato sauce.
I began the sauce while I made the meatballs.  As the sauce simmered, the house began to smell like our Michigan Lake House!  I felt as though I was there!  I carefully wrapped the delicate balls into their blanched cabbage "blankets," and secured them with the distinctive "criss-cross" of two wooden toothpicks.  How exciting it would be to unwrap those little juicy gems, as they released their steam of scented bliss!  In they went, into the garlicky tomato, Marsala, and beef broth, to simmer for several hours in my copper dutch oven.
I invited The Boy Next Door, and he arrived, a bit skeptical about my "Pigs in the Blanket."  I opened an unassuming wine from a friend, called "Vittorio's Secret," feeling like a "Dago" red would be perfect with this rustic family favorite.
Indeed, it was!  The Boy, as it turned out, had fond memories of a Jewish deli, visited as a young lad.  His favorite treat was just this dish~we shared an Eastern European rooted passion for this unassuming peasant food!  We said little, but sipped and slurped our way down memory lane, with juicy satisfaction on our smiling faces. And we happily ate the rest for the next three nights.
Although I recall my mother's "Pigs" as being the best, (and they always will be), my version satisfied a deep yearning for both of us grown up kids~
Here's to preserving traditions!