Savory + Aromatic Swedish Meatballs, Kind Of (TTH)

• 5 tablespoons olive oil, plus more as needed
• 1 small onion, minced
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
• 1 teaspoon umami paste or anchovy paste
• 2 slices stale white sandwich bread, torn into small pieces
• 3 tablespoons whole milk
• 1 1/2 pounds ground lamb
• 4 ounces pork fatback, finely minced
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh chives
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill [Though it would work well in this, one tablespoon isn't enough to justify buying a bunch of dill]
• Freshly ground black pepper to taste
• 3 tablespoons dry sherry
• 3/4 cup plus 3 tablespoons store-bought low-sodium broth
• 1 teaspoon xanthan gum or cornstarch (Missed my golden opportunity to buy xanthan gum for the first time]
• 1 to 2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
• 1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
• Lingonberry jam (from iKEA or elsewhere) for serving [Nope]

Mise en place for the meatballs themselves.  Decidedly more than the number of ingredients in your average Swedish Meatball recipe and with different spices.  Apparently the traditional spices are nutmeg and allspice.  Forget fresh herbs, anchovies, and fatback; even onion and garlic.

Oh, by the way, you shred the white bread into tiny pieces and pour the milk over it.  It's like a panade?

Which seemingly isn't a popular enough usage of the term to have a page on wikipedia.  Interesting.

Cook onion, garlic, and salt until the onion softens.

Add spices and cook for another two minutes.  Add umami paste (Eh, just minced some anchovies even though that's not even the same thing as anchovy paste) and stir until combined.

Let cool.

Mix mixture with lamb and panade with a wooden spoon until roughly combined.

Add herbs and season to taste with salt and pepper.  Overmixing is apparently an issue, but I made sure to season aggressively and yet avoid overdoing it while searing off pieces in a pan.

I did a good job.

Final mise en place.  The meatballs don't exactly stay spherical like that.

One is supposed to sear the meatballs just lightly until they begin to brown, but I wasn't paying as much attention as necessary on the first batch.  Didn't ruin it, but I learned my lesson.

 
Transfer the meatballs to a plate.  Add sherry and deglaze.  Cook until nearly evaporated.
Add meatballs back to the pot along with 3/4 cup of chicken broth.  Simmer until cooked through.
Mix xanthan gum (Damn, I should have totally bought some) with remaining 2 tablespoons chicken stock.  Push meatballs to one side of pan and whisk mixture into bubbling liquid.  Stir the meatballs back in and cook until sauced has thickened.

Season with sherry vinegar (I think it only needed that 1 tablespoon), lemon zest, salt and black pepper and...  It was awesome.  The most complex succulent Swedish meatballs I've ever had though there's not much to compare these to except Stouffer's and one trip to Ikea.  Dill makes so much sense, but it was still totally good without it.

Panade (New York Times)

I will on occasion do dishes I come across while reading the NYT Sunday Magazine (Asado Negro, Bulgogi Sloppy Joe's, I bought Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi sort of because Mark Bittman told me to). I bookmarked Panade way back in September 2010 and came across it again a month or two ago. At the time I revisited the dish, I wasn't really in the mood for the richness it suggested, but things have changed and I still found the dish thrilling.

• 6 tablespoons butter
• 2 leeks, white parts only, finely chopped (about 1½ cups)
• 6 cups whole milk
• Salt
• 4-6 slices day-old country bread, each 1 inch thick [Later I kind of assumed they must have meant some sort of artisinal white bread instead of straight-supermarket country-style, sliced white bread.]
  
• 1 small butternut squash (about 1 pound), peeled, seeded and cut into ¼-inch-thick slices
• 1 bunch black kale or Swiss chard, center stems removed [Grabbed some red kale instead at Symphony's Whole Foods.]
  
• 1 head cauliflower (about 1½ pounds), trimmed and cut into ½-inch-thick slices
• ½ pound fontina cheese, thinly sliced [Did the best I could using the widest setting on my mandoline. I wasn't about to put any more effort into this, thanks.]
  
• Heavy cream, optional.

Breaking out my Cuisinart Multi-Clad 8 Quart Stockpot. At about $210, it's a way better deal than the jaw-droppingly expensive yet cult-worthy All-Clad set which will set you back a cool $1,175.25. Less straight forward when it comes to cleaning it than normal pots and pans so I usually only break it out when I know I have to shove one in the oven.
Also starring my trusty chef's knife and my mandoline makes its first appearance on my blog.


My mountainous mise-en-place.


A layer of bread, the squash layer, and two cups of milk mixture (butter, milk, leeks, salt) pour over. The last of these smells amazing.


More bread, kale, cauliflower, and the rest of the milk mixture. Sure, the recipe doesn't call for freshly ground black pepper, but it's probably the spice I use most often. I love it, and if it seemed out of place here (Shouldn't I have some idea by now?) , I wouldn't have dared.


What it looks like in the pan. A bit moister than I thought but this can be attributed to pouring a full half-gallon of milk into the saucepan rather than noting that it called for 2 cups less. I didn't want to brown the cheese anymore.


Probably won't make this again (I'll be eating it for the next few days anyway), but it was good and rich and complex and had a nice assortment of veggies. I don't make most things more than once; it wasn't a outright failure and it smelled pretty damn good at various points.