Cavolo nero polpettine. Light, little balls made with a large bunch of the darkest leafy greens. Plus the trinity of parmesan, garlic and lemon.
Polpette directly translates from Italian to English as “meatball”; however, to my mind this translation is neither sufficient nor accurate in describing the various iterations made all over Italy. Some are made with meat, some with fish, some with bread, some with vegetables. The latter is my preference. Some are fried in a pool of oil, some are fried in a slick of oil, some are poached in tomato sauce, some are poached in broth, some are baked. Again, the latter is my preference, at least if I’m the one making them - less faff, less cleaning up.
Polpette were traditionally made as a means of repurposing leftovers or avoiding waste. Perhaps this suggests they are somehow a compromise or second best, but they most certainly are not. I make them intentionally, without the need for encouragement from languishing leftovers or leafy greens that have seen better days.
I often make polpette on a Sunday evening, to bookend the week that has passed and ease me into the next. In this case, I perch the balls on a puddle of tomato sauce in a shallow bowl. However, as with nearly all food, these are better enjoyed with company, and even better as a celebration. In this case, I make slightly smaller balls (polpettine), pile them onto a warm platter, cover with snowy parmesan, and serve with a bowl of tomato sauce for dipping and dunking.
A few things to note:
~ They can be made and shaped ahead, only requiring a brief blast in the oven before serving.
~ These are perfect with a glass of something cold, perhaps something sparkling.
~ They can be eaten while holding said glass in your hand.
~ They offer welcome variation to the platters of meat ensconced in pastry, or meat ensconced in meat that feature so heavily at this time of year.
In other words, they are just the thing for the coming weeks of having people over, festive grazing, and all things sparkly.