Narnish Breen, also known as Köttbullar

Every space-faring race in the galaxy has a dish identical to Breen, a delicacy on the Narn Homeworld.

I have been reluctant to make Swedish meatballs. Every time someone else has made them for me, I have been disappointed at the lack of flavor–especially when they’re served with a floury slurry on the side. When a conversation turns to meatballs, acquaintances often rave about a certain flat-pack furniture warehouse; I find their sauce even blander than the Americanized cream-of-soup variant. I have fonder taste memories of the school paste with the brush in the orange lid.

Then one day, I impulse-purchased some Lily Rose potatoes at the market, asked Mr Radish what he thought should go with mashed potatoes, and heard “Swedish meatballs!” After wondering briefly what I did to deserve this, I decided to view the request as a challenge. A well-rounded (heh) meatball enthusiast needs a Swedish in her repertoire.

I selected a German recipe, as I do not read Swedish. Due to supply chain disruptions, I was unable to obtain Breen and substituted ground beef. A pork-beef mixture may work better; the beef balls were a bit dry.

The flavor in the sauce–and it is glorious!!–comes from the secret ingredient in all German sauces: Mittelscharfer Senf, or “yellow mustard.” There is also a shot of lemon juice, nutmeg, black pepper, and parsley. (I don’t know how authentic mustard and lemon are to Swedish cooking, but at least it’s not cream-of-soup.)

If you are minimizing dairy fat for health reasons, you should skip this one: there is nearly a cup of full cream in the sauce alone. It’s a basic Mehlschwitze, a roux; the key is to get your meat broth hot before whisking it slowly into the pan.

The balls themselves are flavored with Piment–which is the German word for allspice, which I recently learned from a television cooking contest show. An American woman living in Baden-Württemberg made Pumpkin Pie (correct name!) for her dessert course. I had somehow always assumed Piment were those things in olives, and when I checked my Wörterbuch to see if she was insane or if I am, I received an ontological shock.

Allspice. The recipe says “as desired” so I just dumped in a well-rounded (heh) half-teaspoon. I could taste it in the final balls, but next time I go up to a full teaspoon just to be sure.

There is also cream in the balls. This recipe starts by soaking the breadcrumbs (“best self-made”, it says; I am all over that) in the beaten egg and 50mL of cream. Here I think it might be OK to substitute regular milk, because as I mentioned previously, the balls were a little dry. (I also think that may have been because my pan was too big for the volume of sauce. Double batch next time!)

While all this is going on, I was working out my pink Stampf–with more cream. The trick here is to warm the cream before adding it to the potatoes (we watch a lot of cooking shows in German television).

Finally, dished up a plate with Preiselbeeren, the German cousin of the Swedish lingonberries. English-language menus often translate them as “Cranberry”, but don’t be fooled! The only similarity is the color. Preisel– and Lingonbeeren grown on bushes like cultivated blueberries. Recommended by Hildegard von Bingen, natürlich.