I’ve had a hard time writing about food, and also most things, for a while now. About six months ago I had an absolutely devastating breakup. It was with a friend, and not a romantic partner, which always seems to be said to diminish the importance of what happened, but in this case, I say it simply to provide context. I usually write about myself, using food as a thin veneer, but I felt very aware that I was a person that was not desirable to be around, to hear from, to experience in any way. Knowing that, it felt like a gross imposition to pretend to write about food, but it also felt ridiculous to write in a generic sort of way about Food, Actually, Really Food (although I tried.)
So, while I was trying to be dignified, to move on, to not be embarrassing, I found myself almost completely unable to write. I couldn’t really talk about food, because to truly do that I have to unveil my entire heart every time. I don’t know another way to do it. When I talk about food I am using it as a shorthand or an entrypoint to talking about my memories, my relationships, where I was and who I was when I made or ate something. The context in which I am cooking and eating is everything to me: and for the last six months that context has been of quietly abiding shame and devastation. I doubted my own value, my abilities, my priorities in life. I felt used and discarded, I felt like a month-old SHEIN purchase.
Anyway, that’s my explanation for where I’ve been. I couldn’t write and not talk about it, but I also felt too deeply ashamed, both of what happened, and the ugliness of my own feelings, to speak of it. Too often lately I feel jealous: I am envious of people who can sustain close friendships, something that I doubt my ability to do for long periods. I am envious of people who understand “signals” and “social cues” because if I did I could have avoided this whole situation, and I am envious of my former friend, whose life appears enriched for not having me in it. This mess of disgusting emotions has made me feel raw and resentful roughly 100% of the time, frustrated and short tempered with everyone. I can’t write with any sort of levity or charm, because that would be lying, and while cooking for others has always been a source of joy for me, a way to share my true heart with people, since I had been so rejected I was left without a real desire to share that truth of myself again.
Why am I even saying this? Why did I write it? For a long time I have felt that one of the primary reasons people keep me around is because I am an excellent cook, but if my great cooking is not enough to keep myself in someone’s good graces, well, why am I even sharing recipes with you? Do you really want a recipe for vegan meatballs that is good, but not “maintains-friendships-for-you” good? Do you want a cake that is, sure, nice, tasty, but not so transcendent that someone forgives you? That’s up to you, I guess. The meatballs are really excellent. Maybe if I’d made these for her things would have been different. Make them for someone you think might leave you, and tell me what happens.
In this time away from writing about myself via food, I have written some about sexuality, via pro-wrestling. If you haven’t seen it yet, I hope you take the time to read it. I am really proud of this, and I am happy to have written it.
So now here’s some meatballs. These are inspired by me looking for a vegan protein that would go good with latkes. They might be kosher for passover, if you’re a bit fast and loose with your interpretation of the KFP-ness of tech meat. I think the impossible brand contains yeast extract (in addition to like, rice and corn and pea based stuff, but I think kitnyot is good, actually) and Beyond contains a different mixture of kitnyot, but it was harder to tell from their website. Neither is KFP certified, if that is important to you. I think Impossible smells better when cooking.
A nice thing to do if you are making this is to make use of the dill and parsley you will have and use them to add life to a cucumber and tomato salad. To make that I use: some amount of cucumbers (hothouse ones, not the dark green english cucumbers, they’re gross to me), which I cut into chunks and then salt. After about 10 minutes I gently squeeze the cucumbers to get some of the water out. I add them to a bowl with a huge amount of chopped parsley and dill, and then toss with some mixture of: lemon juice, aleppo pepper, olive oil, black lime, and salt. I add tomatoes and toss again just before serving it. This does not last well, it gets all wet and nasty. You want to make it moments before dinner, otherwise don’t even bother.
Vegan keftede-like things
Serves 4 people, if each person eats three meatballs. That’s math baby!
1 package tech meat
1 small onion
3 cloves garlic
1/4 cup (heaping) or 20 g finely minced parsley
1/4 cup (less heaping) or 20 g finely minced dill
1/8 tsp MSG
1 tsp salt
lots of pepper
1/2 tsp smoked paprika (regular paprika need not be considered as a substitute, but I guess if you just had plain paprika and smoked salt, or liquid smoke, you could combine those. idk.)
1/4 tsp or so black lime powder (optional, but only because it’s not super readily available, I got this as a part of a set of spices and love it)
1/2 cup plus a bit (30 g) panko or matzoh meal
1/4 cup (45 g) olive oil
Finely mince the onion, garlic, parsley and dill. Add to a work bowl. Stir together. Add the tech meat, MSG, salt, pepper, smoked paprika, and black lime. Mix until the onions are all incorporated. Pour over the panko and olive oil. Mix again. Let sit for an hour. (I do not know if sitting for an hour does anything.)
Preheat oven to 350. Line a full sized baking tray with foil. I don’t suggest parchment, as I find that parchment is more likely to steam the bottom rather than brown it. Shape meatballs into, idk, meatball shaped balls. 12 is a good number. Bake for around 40 minutes. They will be browned, and a lot of the oil will come out during baking, this is part of why you want your baking sheet lined. This helps the underside fry a little bit, and the meatballs stay moist, even as a lot of the moisture leaves during baking. Keftedes are traditionally fried, and these are not, because the idea was to make something easy, and frying is annoying. That’s part of why they have the extra oil. These also have more onion and herbs than a typical keftedes recipe, because it’s not like you really want to savor the taste of fake meat.
They’re good hot, and also at room temperature. You could put them in pitas, or eat them with spinach-rice, which I did, or with latkes, which I also did. Spinach rice is convenient because it ALSO uses some of the enormous quantity of dill you will need to make these. To make spinach rice here’s what I did:
1 cup medium grain rice (rinsed well)
1 small onion chopped
a few cloves of garlic, mashed into a paste with 1 1/2 kosher salt
Pepper or white pepper
10 oz baby spinach
Big handful of dill
1/4 cup or a bit less of olive oil
lemons (zest one and then juice of more)
2 cups of water
In a dutch oven or 3.5 qt saucier (heavy bottomed pan) cook the onions, garlic-salt mixture, pepper, and dill in olive oil until onions are a bit soft. Add the rice, turning the heat up, stir constantly until rice starts to get toasted. Add the spinach one handful at a time. Once all the spinach is added, add the water. Bring water to a boil, then lower the heat all the way, put the lid on the pot and cook for, idk, 30 minutes? After 30 minutes the rice should be done, stir it, scraping the bottom, then put the lid back on. Steam for 10 minutes. Add a large amount of lemon juice, and probably some salt. Eat. Surprisingly good even after microwaving the next day!
I have found these to be, honestly, truly excellent. You could make changes, but why mess with perfection?