Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m in a bit of a cooking rut. I love experimenting, trying new recipes, and mixing new flavors, but over these last couple weeks I’ve noticed that I’ve been turning to the same recipes whenever dinnertime comes around. Now don’t get me wrong – my favorite meals have become beloved for good reason – but recently I’ve found myself craving something more; something novel, different, and unexpected from what the old favorites are able to provide.
Whenever I hit this slump[1] I make a point of flipping through my cookbooks, judiciously scanning their mouthwateringly colorful pages for inspiration, and then selecting a tantalizing new meal to whip up[2]. So, in an effort to step outside my culinary comfort zone and expand my meal prep horizons, I sifted through countless vegetarian recipes before landing on one I simply couldn’t refuse: Molly Yeh’s “Spaghetti and my ex-boyfriend’s meatless balls.”
Now I know what you’re thinking: “My ex-boyfriend’s meatless balls?!” How on earth does that even sound appetizing? But fear not: In typical Molly fashion, Yeh peppers humor, story, and lighthearted wit into each of her recipes, so I was well aware that the name of this particular dish was more intended for shock value and comedic effect than it was an accurate depiction of its taste and ingredients[3]. And yet, likely just as Yeh intended, it was the name itself that had me hooked, curious, and hungry to learn more.
So, what are meatless balls anyway? As Yeh writes:
“During my second year of college[4], I dated a vaguely macho Philly-based vegetarian who survived almost entirely on cheese and beer and Rita’s wuhter ice. We had met at a summer orchestra festival at the University of Maryland and bonded over spiking our slushies before rehearsals and eating cheese sandwiches from the hippie food co-op in the basement of the student union…
…The best weekends were when we’d unwind at his parents’ house in the suburbs, which brought about two main components of his legacy that remain in my life today: His dad’s wondrous latkes and his mom’s meatless balls.
This guy was a real curious type vegetarian in that you’d rarely catch him eating fake meat or beans or vegetables, but his mom’s fake meatballs were the absolute tits and everyone knew it[5]. They were dense and flavorful and so perfect that if they had been invented before actual meatballs, you’d think that actual meatballs were trying to impersonate them. Typically they were served at parties in red sauce with toothpicks as an appetizer, but I probably made a meal out of them on more than one occasion.
In the years after our breakup, my desire to relive these balls eventually transcended any negative ex-y feelings and made the awkward Facebook conversation to acquire the recipe 100 percent worth it[6]. There was no beating around the bush with formalities, I just dove into the trenches of ex-boyfriend territory, went for the meat, so to speak, and came back with this here recipe for you[7].”
Okay, if that writeup doesn’t make you want to jump on the bandwagon and whip up some meatless balls for yourself, then you seriously need to rethink your general approach to life. So let’s get cooking!
Yeh’s recipe calls for the following:
I prepared my cook surface, gathered my ingredients, and followed Yeh’s directions to combine the nuts and garlic into a food processor, pulsing until the food transitioned into a coarse crumb. Then I added the parsley, salt, pepper, parmesan, and breadcrumbs and pulsed again to combine. Once those ingredients were nice and mixed, I cracked in the eggs and procced again until the mixture was able to be compacted and formed into tight – you guessed it – balls. Basically, I did a whole lot of measuring, dumping, button pressing, and ear covering for the first half of things: Easy peasy lemon squeezy.
Separately, I prepared the rest of the pasta ingredients by boiling the spaghetti noodles, heating the marinara sauce[8], and chopping the fresh basil and parsley so they were readily available for serving.
Once my ball concoction was well-combined and ready to go, I used a spoon to roll the mixture in to slightly-smaller-than-golf-ball-sized spheres and added them to a pre-prepped skillet sizzling with olive oil. Then I cooked the balls, working in batches and turning them carefully until they became a deep golden-brown color[9] on all sides.
From there, assembly was easy: I transferred the meatless balls to the tomato sauce, poured it over the spaghetti, and topped it with the fresh parmesan, parsley, and basil. And voila! Just like that I had cooked up something new and had a whole lot of fun (and more than a few Yeh-inspired laughs!) in the process. The meal was unique, it was refreshing, and it was surprisingly scrumptious. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d say it, but Molly Yeh’s ex-boyfriend’s meatless balls are really something[10]!
Even if meatless meatballs aren’t your thing, spice up your life and inject some flavor into your weekly cooking routine by doing a bit of research, seeking inspiration from the brilliant people around you, and trying something that is not only new but that you may have also been hesitant to try in the past. For magic is found when we break from our routines, color outside the lines, and experiment with the novel and unfamiliar, and you never know what you may discover – both about yourself and the world around you – in the process.
Bon Appetit!
[1] And let me assure you, it happens routinely. In fact, it regularly occurs with an almost shocking sense of precision now that I think of it.
[2] The Half Baked Harvest series by Tieghan Gerard have become my go-tos, but I also love Joanna Gaines’ recipes and Molly Yeh’s cookbook, Molly on the Range.
[3] I mean… right? She wouldn’t do that to her ex… right???
[4] She went to Julliard for percussion. Yes, she’s fancy like that.
[5] …The absolute tits? Don’t you just love her?
[6] Yaaaas, Molly! Yaaaas! You get that recipe from your meatless ball boyfriend!
[7] Absolutely flawless. We’re so glad you did, Molly!
[8] Store-bought, baby!
[9] Read: Heavily blackened.
[10] …I know, I know. But she set me up: I can’t help myself!
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