When I was a kid, one of my favorite meals was spaghetti and popettes. "Popette" is a bastardization of "polpetta, " Italian for meatball. My grandmother's family made these meatless meatballs because, as I understood it, they didn't have a lot of money. Made primarily of bread crumbs and eggs, they act like little sponges for pasta sauce and are quite delicious. I wrongly used to think that it was a secret family recipe until Pina, a Sicilian married to a local Turk, told me it's a commonly made dish in Italy. So much for carefully guarded family secrets.
I first made Polpettes A la Turca a few years ago. Since it's impossible to find parmesan cheese in Cappadocia, I have to make due with what I can find, and instead use Tulumu Peyniri, a crumbly but soft "village" cheese. It makes for a tasty popette, but does not go well with pasta sauce. Instead, we eat them plain, with our fingers.
Last night, we were about 25 for dinner. A group of French friends were invited, a pair of couples from Rome offered to make pasta, and Taner's wife Serpil brought her lentil soup. Somehow during the day, two other small groups of Italians were also brought to the evening table.
I spent a good portion of my day preparing the bread and cooking. Here's my recipe for Polpettes for 25, breakfast leftovers guaranteed. (Really, some foods are better the next day.) To be honest, this recipe isn't written in stone. I can never remember from one time to the next how much of what I used.
8 large loaves of bread from Uchisar Market, not nasty sliced white bread from a plastic bag.
1 1/2 kilos of full-fat tulumu peyneri. I suppose the half-fat version would work as well, but who are we kidding? This isn't diet food.
62 eggs
2 heads of garlic, or more to taste. (Normally I would use a bit more garlic, but a person needs to consider her guests.)
Olive oil, not extra virgin.
Sit in a sunny spot. Split open all the bread with your fingers so it can sit in the sun and dry a bit. Pull the bread apart to make small pieces being careful not to squish the soft inner parts. No need for bread glue. This took me about 1 1/2 hours, but the process is a kind of meditation.
Crumble the cheese with a fork and mix with the bread crumbs. For this amount, you will probably need to use more than one huge bowl.
Finely chop the garlic and add to the crumbs and cheese. Get your hands dirty, and mix until the ingredients are evenly distributed. Admittedly, it's difficult to tell if the garlic is well-mixed throughout, but I kind of like a surprise chunk of it.
Add the eggs. Get your hands really dirty and squish the crumbs and cheese through your fingers so the bread is completely soaked in eggs.
Depending on the bread and whatever day it is, you might need more or fewer eggs. The mixture, in my opinion, should be wet enough to form "meatball," but shouldn't be runny. I think the correct term for the texture is "gloppy."
Form balls of the mixture, then flatten them like a hamburger. You can make them larger or smaller. I like to make them about the size of my palm. Make sure to pat around the edges so they don't fall apart when frying.
Heat olive oil in a big pan, not so much that the popettes float in it, but enough so that the oil comes half-way up their sides. I use olive oil, but not extra virgin. It tends to break down when heated. You can also use vegetable oil, but I don't recommend it.
Carefully place the popettes in the heated oil. Flip them when they are crispy brown. Make sure they're cooked in the center. I don't know anyone who wants to eat raw-egg-soaked bread.
Serve hot, warm or rooom temperature. I prefer to eat them with my fingers, but those who are more refined than I can certainly use a fork and knife.
I first made Polpettes A la Turca a few years ago. Since it's impossible to find parmesan cheese in Cappadocia, I have to make due with what I can find, and instead use Tulumu Peyniri, a crumbly but soft "village" cheese. It makes for a tasty popette, but does not go well with pasta sauce. Instead, we eat them plain, with our fingers.
Last night, we were about 25 for dinner. A group of French friends were invited, a pair of couples from Rome offered to make pasta, and Taner's wife Serpil brought her lentil soup. Somehow during the day, two other small groups of Italians were also brought to the evening table.
I spent a good portion of my day preparing the bread and cooking. Here's my recipe for Polpettes for 25, breakfast leftovers guaranteed. (Really, some foods are better the next day.) To be honest, this recipe isn't written in stone. I can never remember from one time to the next how much of what I used.
8 large loaves of bread from Uchisar Market, not nasty sliced white bread from a plastic bag.
1 1/2 kilos of full-fat tulumu peyneri. I suppose the half-fat version would work as well, but who are we kidding? This isn't diet food.
62 eggs
2 heads of garlic, or more to taste. (Normally I would use a bit more garlic, but a person needs to consider her guests.)
Olive oil, not extra virgin.
Sit in a sunny spot. Split open all the bread with your fingers so it can sit in the sun and dry a bit. Pull the bread apart to make small pieces being careful not to squish the soft inner parts. No need for bread glue. This took me about 1 1/2 hours, but the process is a kind of meditation.
Crumble the cheese with a fork and mix with the bread crumbs. For this amount, you will probably need to use more than one huge bowl.
Finely chop the garlic and add to the crumbs and cheese. Get your hands dirty, and mix until the ingredients are evenly distributed. Admittedly, it's difficult to tell if the garlic is well-mixed throughout, but I kind of like a surprise chunk of it.
Add the eggs. Get your hands really dirty and squish the crumbs and cheese through your fingers so the bread is completely soaked in eggs.
Depending on the bread and whatever day it is, you might need more or fewer eggs. The mixture, in my opinion, should be wet enough to form "meatball," but shouldn't be runny. I think the correct term for the texture is "gloppy."
Form balls of the mixture, then flatten them like a hamburger. You can make them larger or smaller. I like to make them about the size of my palm. Make sure to pat around the edges so they don't fall apart when frying.
Heat olive oil in a big pan, not so much that the popettes float in it, but enough so that the oil comes half-way up their sides. I use olive oil, but not extra virgin. It tends to break down when heated. You can also use vegetable oil, but I don't recommend it.
Carefully place the popettes in the heated oil. Flip them when they are crispy brown. Make sure they're cooked in the center. I don't know anyone who wants to eat raw-egg-soaked bread.
Serve hot, warm or rooom temperature. I prefer to eat them with my fingers, but those who are more refined than I can certainly use a fork and knife.
1 comment:
I loved every minute of this one....thank you! Good fellowship and popettes. Nice.
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