I will henceforth settle the greatest dispute from my childhood once and for all: Dad, I love you, but Uncle Bobby is a better cook. While I’m at it — when it comes to meatballs, his are better. I’m going to throw Mom under the bus here, because she agrees with me. Bobby Rallo is the king of the meatball — the messiah of the coveted Italian side dish. And I know it hurts to hear it, but the man deserves some praise.

My uncle cooks with his whole soul. It’s a beautiful and understated way to cook, in a world where commercial chefs and big business dominate the American food industry, taking us away from the foundations that our love for food stems from. I think every foodie and chef alike has an origin story — a moment or a meal where they knew their heart and their hands were made for a kitchen.