The name, Ultimate Veggie Meatballs, was given to this recipe before it was created. It was still a vision, really, an intention to give the cook some comfort once the virtuousness that follows the holidays — broths, slaws and general avoidance of all the things we actually desire — had run its course. It anticipated the inevitability of our clawing back resolutions, losing the clarity we thought we had about what we want to eat, what kind of life we want to lead or who we want to be in 2025.
Recipe: Ultimate Veggie Meatballs
A yearly cycle — it’s not a question of if but where we are on this inevitable slippery slope. As most “experts” seem to point to February as the time when complete amnesia sets in regarding resolutions, it’s fair to assume that we are halfway there. And so, my ultimate meatballs (i.e., comfort and indulgence) are stuffed full of vegetables, lentils and herbs (i.e., virtue and goodness).
Perhaps, I am thinking, I should have called them Middle-Ground Meatballs, or even less sexy, Middle-of-the-Road Meatballs? Or Compromise Meatballs? Would you cook those?
Seriously, though, at a time when Merriam-Webster’s word of the year is “polarization,” I turn to meatballs — what can be safer than that! — to showcase the need to let go a little in 2025, to give yourself slack, to be less uncompromising.
A simple showcase as far as ‘virtuous’ eating is concerned.
Start with the actual meatball, which, unlike a burger, already involves a little less meat. Meatballs are halfway to a dumpling, really, in that they are light and springy. Adding starch — soaked bread, breadcrumbs, couscous, bulgur wheat — or grated vegetables does that to them. It also lets the meatballs more easily absorb the sauce they’re cooked in.
The next step, removing all the meat, isn’t so radical then, once you realize how much of what makes a meatball isn’t necessarily meat. Lentils and couscous are two great components (as are barley and bulgur), which, with some egg to bind everything, give you the crumbly texture that ground meat normally does.
And yet, if you want to reintroduce meat to these meatballs and leave out the lentils, be my guest! Ground chicken or beef would work well here. In fact, meatballs — much like fritters, soups and salads — are a great destination for many abandoned ingredients in your kitchen. I am not saying that anything goes. But putting the constraints of the recipe to one side, with some creativity and a bit of trial and error, you will find that more goes than you would think. Try swapping the lentils with cooked rice, for example, or adding the dregs of sweet corn in the freezer.
There is something wonderfully liberating in entering the kitchen with a slightly lowered standard of what counts as success. I learned this firsthand recently, while on a book tour. During the question-and-answer part of the evening, I was often presented with the audience’s kitchen conundrums: How do I get my hummus super smooth and light? What is the best cooking time for caramelized onion? I did my best to be both informative and reassuring.
When it came to meatballs, the recurring theme was how to keep them round. Many cooks confessed that their meatballs just turned into flat patties or were more like cubes once they were done searing them in oil. I explained that by increasing the dry components, like breadcrumbs, or by chilling them first, you could get them to firm up. But then I stopped myself midsentence and said: “You know what? This also happens to me! And it’s not that important!”
It was true. This does happen to me. A lot! And most of the time, I don’t really worry about it. But I also recognize the feeling of needing something to be perfect, of wanting it so much that I forget that it isn’t very important at all. I think the audience got this point. I could almost hear their sigh of relief.
You see, even with the “ball” in the meatball, there’s room for compromise in 2025.
The post The Secret to Perfect Veggie Meatballs Is Imperfection appeared first on New York Times.
