Meatball

In general, these are milder than Italian-style meatballs (Polpette, page 53), with cooked onion and no garlic or cheese. Often served with a cream sauce (and lingonberries), they can be made without one, skewered on toothpicks, and passed at parties. A combination of pork, veal, and beef is best here, but if I had to choose only one meat it would unquestionably be pork.

This is similar to Grilled Satay, which follows, only in that it is meat on a stick. But this deep-fried version is crunchier, and the skewer itself is best when made from lemongrass or sugarcane, either of which imparts a subtle aroma to the meat (and gives you something to gnaw on, if your tastes go in that direction). Since the meat is pressed around the skewer like a meatball—the result is kind of a meat lollipop—it needs to be finely minced to hold together well; a food processor does the job perfectly.

Unlike the preceding Italian meatballs, these are strongly flavored with garlic, contain no cheese, and are spiked with almonds. They are unusual and great served on a toothpick with a glass of sherry.

Needless to say, you can put these in almost any tomato sauce (pages 606–607) and use them for spaghetti and meatballs. But they’re often served in Italy as a small first course, sometimes over cabbage. I like the combination of veal and pork best, but you can use any combination you like or even all beef.

Especially when made with lamb, this is incomparably delicious; serve it with good bread or toast. There was a time when this meat was chopped, then pounded and kneaded by hand, for longer than you or I have the patience to do. The food processor makes quick work of the process, and if you buy good fresh meat from a reliable source and handle it carefully, it’s as safe as a rare hamburger.

Everybody loves meatballs. I think meatballs are an example of Americana and they belong on the American table. This is a great and simple recipe. It calls for three types of meat, but a combination of any two—or even a single meat—will work as well. The recipe makes four dozen meatballs, but you can cut it in half and it will work just as well. The sauce and meatballs freeze well, but are best frozen in smaller quantities (1/2 pint, or six to eight meatballs and sauce) so that they reconstitute quickly.

I hope you’ve saved some meatballs and sugo (page 146) for this wonderful fresh-pasta lasagna. But if you haven’t, you can follow the basic procedure using sliced, cooked Italian sausage meat instead of the meatballs and another tomato sauce. Note that you’ll need a bit more than a single batch of egg pasta dough—4 extra ounces to be specific—so just make two batches and freeze the extra.

If you happen to have some meatballs and sugo left over from the recipe on page 146, here’s a simple baked dish that will put them to good use. Just toss them with cooked cavatappi—spiral pastas that do look like corkscrews—and cheeses, then bake. You can also bake this in a mold and turn it out, as a lovely golden torta. Press the filling to fit into a 10-cup Bundt pan or soufflé dish, generously buttered and coated with bread crumbs. Sprinkle bread crumbs and grated cheese on the top (which will become the bottom), and bake at 400° until the edges are golden.

These meatballs always inspire a lot of “ooh, yuuumm”s and funny comments from friends and family alike: “Something is different about these meatballs!” They love them, but they’ve never had anything quite like them, either—unless they’re familiar with this old Southern recipe. (We’ve kept ours a secret till now, but we’ll share it with you here.)

To make meatballs that are moist and tender, avoid using very lean ground turkey. For convenience, make a batch of sauce and meatballs ahead and freeze for up to three months.

Fragrant and delectable, these meatballs are made from a fine chicken paste seasoned with toasted ground rice and enriched by tiny bits of pork fat. Although they are traditionally grilled, I cook them in the oven, where they are less likely to overbrown or even burn. They are served with rice paper, lettuce, fresh herbs, and a sweet-and-spicy sauce, and diners assemble their own hand rolls. You will need to soak 16 to 18 (8- or 10-inch) bamboo skewers in water for at least 45 minutes before you thread the meatballs onto them. At the table, set out kitchen scissors or knives for diners to cut their meatballs in half before wrapping them. (Like cherry tomatoes, these meatballs are hard to eat if left whole.) This is a hands-on dish that requires only a dinner plate at each place setting.

The cart’s owner wants to keep his recipes under wraps, so the following is an approximation of one of his signature dishes.

Late spring, 2007. Six small beets, round as golf balls and not much bigger, arrive in a thick brown paper bag, its edges sewn together with string. The air of moist Riverford soil and sweet roots wafts up as the bag is torn open, but the day is leaden with damp and cold and I have rarely felt less like eating a beet salad. Supper is going to be meatballs: fat, crumbly patties of ground lamb with garlic, dill, and parsley. It crosses my mind that a handful of grated beets might sweeten the ground meat and lighten the texture. What we end up eating on the coldest spring day for years is plump rounds of sweet and spicy meat, crunchy with cracked wheat and crimson with the vivid flesh of finely grated beets. The inclusion of the roots has broken up the solid lump of ground meat and married well with the garlic and clean-tasting herbs. We dip the sizzling patties into a slush of shredded cucumber, yogurt, and mint, given a snap of piquancy (to balance the beets) with a spoonful of capers.

Meatballs are the ultimate comfort food. And while these are satisfyingly delicious, they also pack a spicy punch. The chipotles add an unexpected smoky heat to the tomato sauce, which only gets better with time. So make them in advance for a no-stress meal, and make sure to make extra so you can have some for leftovers.

Okay, don’t freak out when you see the ingredients on this one. Yes, grape jelly in the sauce. Trust me, they’re delicious. This is one of the recipes that my family still makes all the time and everyone loves them.

When I was little, I hated tomatoes in all forms except, of course, ketchup. As I’ve gotten older, they’ve grown on me. Tomatoes Farci sounds weird, but blame that on Megan. This is another dish she found in her travels in France. To me it’s just little meatballs inside of tomatoes, and how can that be bad?