Pallotte cacio e ova

Every so often, when dining out — my top hobby here in the Eternal City— I’ll encounter a dish that grabs hold of me, sticks with me, and won’t leave me in peace until I attempt it at home. Anyone else experience this? Ever tried a dish that you find inspiring, clever, or just so delicious that you want to bring the experience to the comfort of your own kitchen?

(See also: these canderli, this sfincione, and this peanut butter banana bread.)

While dining at Osteria della Trippa in Trastevere a few weeks ago, an item called pallotte cacio e ova caught my attention. They stood out mainly because they were the only antipasto I wasn’t able to immediately identify, sneakily tucked amongst the Roman carciofi alla giudia and fiori di zucca. I was intrigued, and then delighted to learn from our server that pallotte cacio e ova (PCeO) were a sort of bread, Pecorino (cacio) and egg (ova) dumpling that had made it all the way onto this Roman menu from Abruzzo. No further convincing needed, a trio of them arrived at our table, and after tasting my half of pallotta (three of them, and six of us) I sorely wished we had gone for more than one order. No matter: I would make them at home.

So! I imagine that PCeO are one of those many Italian dishes born as a way to make use of bread past its prime (much like panzanella and ribollita). It was also probably created as a substantial dish to stand in for meat when it was beyond the family’s means. Indeed: today’s recipe for pallotte are reminiscent of meatballs, or polpette, minus the meat. They are composed of the usual meatball suspects — eggs, Parmesan, parsley — and served in the classic tomato sauce, but with no pork, veal, or beef in sight. But these are details: let’s get to the point, shall we?

This recipe turns out pallotte that are spheres of fried bliss, crisp and golden on the outside and soft and fluffy within. They are not meek: a pile of Pecorino (so much in fact that I wondered if there was a typo in the ingredient list) give them a pleasantly sharp, intense flavor, and demonstrates that sometimes, too much is just enough. Freshly grated Parmesan contributes a buttery-nuttiness, and the garlic and black pepper make them a little kick-y (new word). A handful of parsley cuts a chorus of otherwise loud flavors; the tomato sauce follows suit, balancing out the richness of the PCeO. The result is a craveable, moreish, divine sort of dish, that were — gasp — even more delicious than the pallotte I ate in Trastevere. These are magnificent as a starter, or a main, and lovely for the vegetarians in your life, or anyone simply trying to eat less meat.

And let’s be honest: we’re talking about little planets of fried, cheese-y bread. Need I say more?

A couple of notes: If you are using fresh instead of day old/stale bread, you probably won’t need to add all of the milk. Add it a little at a time to lightly moisten the bread, but not soak it too much. Be stingy with the salt on this one — the Parmesan and Pecorino are already very salty, so you won’t need much at all. If you don’t have a food processor, feel free to cut up the tomatoes roughly using a knife or kitchen scissors.

Looking for similar bread dumplings? I’ve got these canederli and these polpette di ricotta.
Looking for other vegetarian mains? Click
here.

PALLOTTE CACIO E OVA

Makes 15 pallotte. Recipe from Luca Pappagallo.

Ingredients for the pallotte:

300 grams (about 9 ounces) of crustless, day old bread
200 grams (about 8 ounces) of Pecorino Romano, grated
100 grams (about 4 ounces) of Parmesan, grated
150mL whole milk, but see notes!
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 clove garlic, chopped fine
A handful of parlsey, chopped
Salt and pepper
Sunflower oil, for frying

Ingredients for the tomato sauce:
800 grams whole tomatoes, blended until smooth in a food processor
Olive oil
1 clove garlic
A few basil leaves

Directions:
1.) Start with the tomato sauce. In a large, shallow saucepan, add a few tablespoons of olive oil (eyeball it) and then add the garlic clove. Let it cook until golden over low heat, and then add the tomatoes and basil. Bring the sauce to a bubble, and then lower the heat. Let the sauce cook as you make your pallotte.

2.) Put the bread into a food processor and pulse it to break it up into pieces, or just rip it up with your hands (it doesn’t have to be too fine). Transfer the bread into a bowl, then add the milk (see my notes) and stir well, then squeeze the bread together to get it all incorporated. Add the grated Pecorino and Parmesan, and once they are well incorporated, the eggs. Stir in the parsley, garlic, pepper to taste, and the tiniest bit of salt, remember that the cheeses are already quite salty.

3.) Using your hands, mix the bread until it becomes smooth and all ingredients are blended well. Cover the bowl with the bread mixture and put it in the fridge for about 30 minutes.

4.) When the 30 minutes are up, form the bread mixture into pallotte. If you use a scale to ensure they’re all the same, they should weigh about 70 grams each, and you should have about 12 of them.

5.) Heat the sunflower oil in a large pot until it reaches about 165 degrees Celsius. Fry the pallotte in the oil a few at a time (not too many at once as this will low the temperature of the oil) until they are nice and golden, about 3-4 minutes total. Remove them from the oil with a slotted spoon and then let the excess oil drain off on a plate lined with paper towels.

6.) Taste your tomato sauce, and add a bit of salt if needed. Add the pallotte to the sauce, and let cook at a simmer for another 10 or so minutes. Don’t stir them — you don’t want them mixed into the sauce, just that they take on some of the tomato-y flavor. Turn off the heat, and serve your pallotte cacio e ova immediately with a little extra cheese over the top, if you want.