Vegetarian Meatballs in their Media Debut

Vegetarian Meatballs

So here's a picture of the vegetarian meatballs.  They can also be fried instead of baked (with or without sauce), and I haven't tried it, but they hold up well enough that I bet you could actually simmer them in a sauce on top of the stove.  The recipe makes about 3-4 servings of about 3-4 meatballs.  No, I'm still not going to call them "beanballs" or "vegetarian balls" or anything besides a meatball.  It's meaty, it takes the role of protein in a meal, it's a meat.  Unless you can point out to me the greater Meatabeast of Central Africa, I refuse to linguistically acknowledge that all meat must come from animal muscle fiber.  Just call me "Dona Quixote".

A word on all the vegetarian recipes all of a sudden: of course health professionals have been telling us all for years now to eat less red meat and more fiber, but mainly  my sudden interest stems from the fact that I can buy enough protein for a "serves 4-6 meal" for between 25 and 50 cents.  (50 cents if I feel lazy and use precooked canned beans.)  Whereas the same amount of meat would cost $3-$6.  Plus I get to hold over everybody's heads how healthy I am and how I go look at the ducks in the park and feel self-righteous about not wanting to eat them.

Vegetarian Men Cannot Bake Banana Bread

I would post to you a delicious banana bread recipe, except I haven't found one yet.  I have had relatively good success with my latest cookbook trial, from whence came (with modifications and improvements) some of my recent posts.  However, the banana bread I made was, sadly, lacking.  It tastes good, don't get me wrong.  But apparently a good banana bread recipe is like the Holy Grail or a piece of the One True Cross: everyone supposedly has one, and yet it cannot be found.  To do justice to the male vegetarian author of the cookbook, my family recipe for banana bread is all wrong in other directions, and it was authored by women who were not vegetarians. 

Apparently banana bread is an equal opportunity offender.  Its offense appears to fall into one of two categories: overly dense (vegetarian cookbook), or overly sweet (my family recipe).  Now I don't know about you, but I do not intend to use my baked goods for doorstops, nor do I consider it acceptable to have the sugar-to-flour ratio be 1:1 (not even kidding-- this is why diabetes is more prevalent in the American South).  In addition, the vegetarian cookbook committed the previously here-chronicled crime of listing 3 bananas and 2 eggs as enough wet ingredients for 2 cups of flour and assorted leavening.  No wonder it's a doorstop.  I had to add some milk just to be able to pour it in the loaf pan.  If I hadn't added the milk I probably would become known in history as the original discoverer of biodegradeable bricks. 

So ladies, if you have an unwelcome suitor, by all means surprise him with some of that banana bread.  Otherwise, I'm open to suggestions for a better recipe. 

Zucchini Bread

3 eggs
2-1/4 C. sugar
2 C. shredded zucchini*
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1 C. chopped nuts
1-1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 C. oil
3 C. flour
4 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. salt

Preheat the oven to 350F.  Mix together the eggs, oil, and zucchini.  In a separate bowl, whisk together** all of the dry ingredients except the nuts.  Combine the two mixtures, then fold in the nuts***.  Grease and flour two loaf pans.  Pour the batter equally into the two pans and bake for one hour or until they pass the toothpick test****.  Let cool before slicing.  Good with butter on top!
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"Good with butter on top!"  Once I got to four stars, I just gave up.  I think everything is good with butter on top, especially all things bread. 

****"The toothpick test" is what I call that part of the recipe that goes "until a toothpick inserted [in the middle] comes out clean."  Excuse me, but what middle, what is the definition of "clean", and why is this important?  All questions I used to ask myself when I was a less-experienced baker.  So I'm going to answer them for you. 

1) "In the middle": in all honesty, the best test is to poke the baked item in two or three places, one of which should be the middle, or the thickest part, whichever is thicker.

2) "the definition of clean": depends on your baked good.  For example, since this a fairly moist sweet bread, I would consider "toothpick emerges with a few moist crumbs sticking to it" to indicate doneness.  For a full-on cake (like a yellow cake or pound cake) I would hold out until the toothpick came out with nothing on it.  If at any time gooey stuff, even gooey crumbs, are apparent on your toothpick, put that bad boy back in the oven and try again in a few minutes.  While we're on the subject, unless you want to heat the whole house with your oven, get you some hot pads, take the baking pan fully out of the oven and close the oven door while you're checking it.  This prevents additional baking time while the oven regains all the heat lost while you crouched in front of the oven door doing the toothpick test.  (It goes without saying...or does it?...that you then set your baking dish on some other heat resistant surface like the stovetop after closing the oven but before trying to stick a toothpick in it.)  Incidentally, spellcheck wanted me to replace "stovetop" with "stevedore."  I don't think a stevedore would appreciate a hot baking dish being set on top of him, and since he's a stevedore he, like a mule (according to my uncle) is big enough to do something about it.

3) This is important because otherwise you will have pancake batter on your plate instead of a luscious fully-cooked baked good when you go to cut it.

***"Fold in the nuts": saving the nuts for last ensures that they are fully incorporated, and also prevents them sinking to the bottom of your bread while it bakes.

**Some people bother to sift things with an actual sifter.  Some recipes call for "thus and such amount sifted ingredient" which is a crafty way of saying "first sift this and get [ingredient] all over your countertop, then try to measure fairy dust, then repeat when you only have half as much as you need."  I avoid those recipes.  This recipe calls for the amount you need to dump out of the flour jar into the bowl.  Then use a wire whisk (like you use for scrambled eggs) and whisk all the dry stuff with the whisk.  It fluffs up your dry ingredients so your bread will be light and causes that much less heartache in he kitchen.  It's neater, too.

*Now the zucchini, on the other hand...shred you some zucchini.  If you happen to have a garden, rejoice in the amount of whole zucchinis you need to make up 2 cups of shredded zucchini. 

Javelinas / True Love, Fifties-Style

2-2/3 C. all-purpose flour
1/3 C. whole wheat flour
1 TB. baking powder
1/2 C. milk
1/4 C. shortening
1/2 C. molasses
2/3 C. brown sugar
1 tsp. anise seeds
1 C. golden raisins
1 egg, separated
1 tsp. vanilla
granulated sugar, for dusting

Preheat the oven to 350F.  Combine the flours and baking powder.  In a separate bowl, blend together the shortening and brown sugar.  Add in the molasses and vanilla.  Beat in the egg yolk.  Combine the flour and egg mixtures.  Blend in the raisins and anise seed.  Add milk to moisten until the consistency is somewhat akin to scone dough.  Turn out onto a floured work surface and knead briefly, just until the dough hangs together well.  Pat into a round, then pat the round out to 1/2-inch (1 cm-ish) thickness.  Cut into rounds with a biscuit cutter --or-- use a pig-shaped cookie cutter.  Place them on a greased baking sheet about a half-inch apart and brush the tops with the reserved egg white.  Sprinkle them with generously with granulated sugar.  Bake for 18-20 minutes or until done.  (They will rise somewhat and the sugar on top will brown.)
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The difference between Grandmom and me (so I thought) was that I had a more adventurous and reckless nature.  Grandmom doesn't go out of the house with the dryer still running.  I still occasionally put things in the oven that are going to take a long time before I leave the house on purpose.  I don't do so very often, because eventually I am overcome by the possibility of returning to my house to find it a smoking ruin.  It's never happened, but you try driving home hoping your house hasn't recently been put out by the fire department and see how inclined you are to do it again.  There you go.  Some people, like Grandmom, could not even bear the possibility.  I, on the other hand, eventually forget the possibility and live to tempt disaster once again.  And so I thought that was the way things stood amongst us, until Grandmom told me about her other fiance. Yes, all this time I thought Grandpop was her first love.  In my imagination it could have been taken right from a script for "The Donna Reed Show".  But oh, no, I was wrong.  She was about 20 years old, and she had been seeing this other boy from her high school since she was fourteen, so about six years.  Eventually, they got engaged.  And then, she and my Grandpop (who also went to the same school) both went to a party hosted by mutual friends.  At some point during the party, Grandpop called out "WHO WANTS TO SIT ON MY LAP?!"  And Grandmom decided that she wanted to.  She told me that at that moment she knew that she loved that other guy "like a brother", and she broke it off to go out with Grandpop!  So I guess I come by it naturally.

Bean & Nut Cutlets

1/2 C. canned or fully cooked (until soft) red beans
1/2 C. nut of your choice*
1 egg
1/3 C. Italian-style breadcrumbs + extra for breading (another 1/3 C. or so)
1 small onion, minced
1/4 tsp. salt
pepper to taste
Oil for cooking

Chop the nuts finely.  Mash the beans or process them in the food processor until they are finely chopped also.  Combine all ingredients.  Start heating the oil in a large skillet over medium heat.  Sprinkle the remaining breadcrumbs on a plate.  With wet hands, grab a golfball-sized chunk of cutlet blend (what exactly do you call a bean & nut cutlet before it's a cutlet?) and maneuver it into the palm of your hand.  Pat it to about 3/4-inch (2 cm) thick.  Drop it onto the plate with the breadcrumbs.  Gently turn it over to bread the other side.  (They can be kind of loose, so basically use the stickiness of your cutlety fingers to pick it up.)  Repeat until no more cutlet blend is is left.  Using a spatula, slide the cutlets one at a time into the skillet once the oil is hot enough.  Cook on each side, turning once, until both sides are a toasty brown and they are pretty firm.  They should feel like a loose salmon croquette when you poke them (not too hard!) with the spatula.  Once you remove them from the pan you can drain them or not.  I didn't, and they didn't seem greasy to me.  Yum!  Serve with your favorite meaty sauces, like BBQ or honey mustard.
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*I had some leftover hazelnuts, so I used half and half hazelnuts and walnuts.  I think any tree nut would probably taste fine, though, and even peanuts, especially if you were going for a Thai theme.

Once, way back in the day, I toyed with "being a vegetarian".  You know, as a "lifestyle choice", kind of like how some people are hipsters and some people take personal meaning from owning show cats.  I just want to say now that, no matter what I eat, in what quantities, and with whatever frequency, I will never "be a vegetarian".  I think very few choices in life really are portentious enough to warrant a state a being, and that those choices should be given respect.  I think some people would have us all believe that "being a vegetarian" and "not being a serial killer" are essentially equal life choices.  (Let's just pretend that we proceed to have a big "meat is murder" argument but not actually do it.  All I'm saying is, until you start prosecuting the lions in Africa, or admit that human beings should adhere to higher moral standards in the rest of their lives as well as their dietary choices "because we're more evolved", leave me alone.)

Sea Legs Salad / The Art of War at Lunchtime

1 pkg sea legs, cut into 2-inch (5cm)-long chunks*
1/4 onion, minced fine
1/4 C. mayonnaise
salt and pepper to taste

Combine all in a bowl, tossing until the sea legs are well-coated with spices and mayonnaise.  Serve on a hard roll.
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*I think the official name for this product is surimi, but Grandmom has always called it "sea legs".  Another word for it is "imitation crab meat".  It is pretty crabby, I have to admit.  It's the stuff you find in your no-raw-fish-allowed sushi roll.  It's made of white fish, so it's definitely not vegetarian!

This recipe is akin to the hotdog sanwiches, in that it is simple, unpretentious, and very tasty.  If I had to pick between canned tuna salad and sea legs salad, I would pick the sea legs any day of the week.  Typically this is served at lunch, the most perilous time of the day if you're trying not to eat your weight.  (Incidentally, I found a picture of me from when I was fat, and I was pretty cute!  I'm glad for my health that I'm slimmer, but I think I let myself get too stressed out about it at the time.)  Anyway, if you're still having fat flashbacks like Steve Carrell's character in the movie remake of "Get Smart", lunchtime can be intimidating.  Not only is "finish, finish" fully in play, but there's also the added peer- (Grandmom-) pressure to "eat up the leftovers".  Because, you know, "must not throw away".  Except Grandmom made enough food the last three nights for a group of "4-6" and there's only 3 of you: you (see above need to not get fat again), Grandmom (practices what she preaches), and Grandpop, who has learned the fine art of "no" over 58 years of marriage.  Eventually you learn some survival strategies-- eat really, reaaaally slowly, take first helpings that are a third of what you would actually want, and learn to give the Italian Guilt Trip as good as you get it.  Yes, it's true: sometimes the only way to get Grandmom to cease and desist is to launch something like "You're trying to make me fat!  You want me to be fat?!?! (make "I caught a fish thiiiis biiig" hands)"

Vegetarian Meatballs, Italian-Style / When A Romantic Comedy Causes Noise Ordinance Violation

1 16oz. can cooked cannelini beans
1/3 C. Italian-style breadcrumbs
1 C. cooked barley (or rice would probably do as well)*
1/4 C. oatmeal**
1 egg
1/2 of a tomato, chopped
2-3 TB. of chopped onion
2-3 TB. Parmesan cheese + some for topping (if you prefer)
pepper and garlic powder to taste

cooking oil
spaghetti sauce

Process the cannelini beans in a food processor until they are coarsely chopped.  Combine them in a bowl with the rest of the ingredients (except for the cooking oil and spaghetti sauce).  Add more oatmeal or breadcrumbs if necessary until the mixture is about like a meatloaf would be in consistency.  (Ergo, cohesive but somewhat loose.)  Preheat the oven to 400F.  Put the cooking oil in a thin layer on the bottom of a glass baking dish.  One at a time, and with wet hands, form meatballs out of the bean mixture.*** Place them in the baking dish so that they don't touch each other.  Put the dish in the oven and bake them for 30-45 minutes, or until hot and fairly firm.  Remove them from the oven and pour a little spaghetti sauce over each meatball.  (I refuse to call it a beanball.)  Return them to the oven and bake about 5 more minutes.  Put your meatballs on a serving platter or dish.  Top them with spaghetti sauce and Parmesan cheese like you would a regular meatball.  Heck, if you feel extra crafty cook some pasta and serve them all in with that.
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*Yes, I used leftover barley.  Grandmom raised me well.  As further proof, I also used the beans, tomato, and onion from an unsatisfactory batch of Bean & Pasta Soup I made earlier this week without the benefit of chicken stock.  (Not intentionally-- I forgot I had bought seafood stock for the Loco Moco and didn't want to try that in my Bean & Pasta Soup, so used plain water as the base.  Yes, ugh.)  The pasta part of the soup is now sitting in my freezer, from whence came the barley.  Love me, love my leftovers. 

**You could dispense with the barley and rice and only use an equivalent amount of oatmeal if you wanted, although the barley gave the meatballs a nice bite.  I used the barley because a) I thought I could, b) FINISH FINISH NO THROW AWAY! and c) when I was making my grocery list I didn't include oatmeal because I knew I had some instant in the cabinet...instant maple-brown sugar flavored!  So basically what happened was this: I dumped the whole packet in, casually read the side of the paper as I was about to throw it away, and then hurriedly dumped out as much of the instant oatmeal as I could.  I then defrosted the barley.  Before I overcompensated with pepper they were some pretty maple syrup-flavored meatballs.

***This basically looks like you're playing a very slow and solemn game of "hot potato" with the vegetarian meatball.  And yes, the wet hands do really make it easier.  It has the same result as when you flour your hands before handling pastry or oil your hands before handling candy.  What this says about my vegetarian meatballs, I don't know.

Grandmom and I once had a shouting match over the tv.  Grandmom likes Romantic Comedies.  I do not, but hey, my choices were: sit in another room from the person I came to visit or watch a Romantic Comedy with her.  It happened to be "The Wedding Planner", starring J. Lo as The Lovelorn Underappreciated Career Woman Looking for Love and Matthew Mcconaughey as The Antihero Who Supposedly Wins the Audience with His Bad Boy Charm.  Long story short, by the end of the movie I was shouting at the tv like it was the superbowl for J.Lo's character to go with the nice Italian boy who came all the way from Italy to meet her, and my mild, gentle Grandmom was shouting right back, "BUT SHE DOESN'T LOVE HIM!!!!"   Only in an Italian household would two women watching a Romantic Comedy on a couch in front of the tv become loud. We may or may not have had ice cream afterwards.  Ice cream heals all wounds.