Which is why I'm going to share my meatball recipe with you, because I genuinely believe it to be the best.
When I was growing up, a child of the 70s, they weren't called meatballs. That was too American. My mum called them rissoles. She'd mix together mince, an onion, a squirt of tomato sauce and a sprinkling of something terrifying generic called "all purpose seasoning". She'd serve them up with potato and pumpkin mashed together (seriously) and diagonally cut green beans. I thought the boredom would never end.
Mine are a bit more fun, and rarely served with potatoes and beans. I made these ones on Christmas Eve, hence the addition of the dried cranberries. We made hamburgers, with melted vintage cheese, chipotle chutney and lettuce. You can make a salad, a pasta sauce or a casserole with these. Make them tiny enough and serve with toothpicks as a canape.
(PS has anyone noticed that when I'm not at work, I blog more. Mmmmm. I think there's something in there, don't you?)
Ingredients
250g best beef mince you can get - pay the money, please pay the money
250g pork mince
2 eggs
1 cup raw rolled oats
½ cup sour cream
50g pine nuts (raw)
chopped fresh curly parsley
1 onion, chopped finely
150g tomato paste (or thereabouts)
dash of Worcestershire sauce
½ cup dried cranberries - optional
plain flour and vegetable oil - for frying
Method
Put a good covering of vegetable oil in a shallow frypan and heat. I use two frypans so I can cook the whole lot in one go. You can also get out your big electric pan if you want, that works nicely too.
Put a cup of plain flour on a dinner plate and sit it by the stove.
Get the biggest bowl you have, toss everything in, take off your rings, wash your hands well, then get amongst it. Mix it, squish it, turn it around and mix some more. If it is really wet, throw in another half cup of oats.
Now for the fun. Start to shape your meatballs to as little or as large as you want. You can make them round like a golf ball, or flat like a pikelet. Depends on what you want to do with them.
Cook them on a medim-high heat (you want to hear that oil sizzle) for about 6-8 minutes, then flip for another 4-5 minutes.
Drain on paper towels then use your imagination. I usually eat one straight from its resting spot on the paper towels, and tell everyone that I'm merely testing to see if it's cooked through. No one believes me.
