Zucchini Quinoa Meatless Meatballs — Because Mamma Would Bring Meatballs to the Apocalypse

Easter. Smaller this year — just Paul and me and Mamma and Erik. Anna couldn't come (Sophie's finals). Peter is in Chicago dealing with lawyers. Elsa is at Voyageurs. The table was set for four instead of the usual gathering, and the empty chairs were louder than the occupied ones. Mamma came with her meatballs. Of course. Mamma would bring meatballs to the apocalypse. She arrived with Erik, carrying two pans of meatballs and a look that said she was assessing everything — Paul's hand, my face, the house, the state of things. Mamma misses nothing. She's been alive for eighty-seven years and she has seen everything and she walked into the kitchen and looked at the adaptive cutting board I'd bought (the one with the suction cups that holds food in place so Paul can cut with one hand) and she looked at me and she nodded. One nod. That was all. The nod said: I see it. I understand. We carry this. The Easter dinner: lamb, as tradition demands. I did everything — Mamma tried to help but her hands are eighty-seven and the lamb is heavy and I said, "Sit, Mamma. Tell me if I'm doing it wrong." She sat. She told me I was doing it wrong. (The rosemary was "too much" and the garlic was "not enough." She may have been right about both.) The lamb was good. The meatballs were perfect. The Jansson's temptation was golden. Paul ate with his right hand. He managed well — the lamb was pre-cut (by me, at the counter, before plating), the potatoes were mashed, the meatballs were small enough to spear on a fork. The meal was designed around his limitation without announcing it. This is what I do now: I cook for a man with one working hand and I make it look like a choice. Erik and Paul talked about the lake — the ice pattern this year, the spring birds, the ore boats starting their season. Erik is not a talker but he talks to Paul, and the talking is Erik's version of the nod — I see it, I understand, I'm here. Mamma fell asleep on the couch after dinner. Again. The Easter nap. I covered her with the afghan. Erik washed the dishes. Paul sat in his chair with Sven. I stood in the kitchen doorway and looked at them — my mother asleep, my brother washing dishes, my husband in his chair, my dog at his feet — and this was my family on Easter 2018, reduced and precious and holding on. I made coffee and served it with Mamma's sockerkaka, which I'd baked that morning, and when Mamma woke up she tasted it and said, "This is almost right." Almost. Still almost. I'll take it. Erik drove Mamma home at eight. I cleared the table. Four places instead of twelve or twenty. But the meatballs were in the center and the candles were lit and the prayers were said and Easter happened, as it happens, as it always happens, whether you're ready or not.

Mamma’s meatballs were the fixed point of that Easter table — four chairs instead of twelve, but two pans of meatballs in the center as if nothing had changed. She’s been making them the same way for decades, and I wouldn’t dare touch her recipe. But on the quieter evenings when it’s just Paul and me, I’ve started making these — lighter, a little different, something I can shape small enough that a fork in one hand is all you need. They’re not Mamma’s. Nothing is. But they’re mine, and they’re almost right.

Zucchini Quinoa Meatless Meatballs

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4 (about 20 meatballs)

Ingredients

• 1 cup cooked quinoa, cooled
• 1 medium zucchini, grated and squeezed dry (about 1 cup)
• 1/3 cup breadcrumbs (panko or regular)
• 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
• 1 large egg, lightly beaten
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped
• 1 tablespoon fresh dill, finely chopped
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
• 1 tablespoon olive oil

Instructions

1. Cook the quinoa. If you haven’t already, cook 1/2 cup dry quinoa in 1 cup water according to package directions. Let cool completely.
2. Prep the zucchini. Grate the zucchini on the large holes of a box grater. Place in a clean kitchen towel and squeeze out as much moisture as possible. This step matters — wet zucchini means mushy meatballs.
3. Mix the base. In a large bowl, combine the cooled quinoa, squeezed zucchini, breadcrumbs, Parmesan, egg, garlic, parsley, dill, salt, pepper, and allspice. Stir until everything is evenly combined. Let the mixture rest for 5 minutes so the breadcrumbs absorb moisture.
4. Shape the meatballs. Using about 1 tablespoon of mixture per meatball, roll into small, firm balls. You should get about 20. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet.
5. Bake. Preheat oven to 375°F (190°C). Brush or drizzle the meatballs lightly with olive oil. Bake for 22 to 25 minutes, turning once halfway through, until golden brown and firm to the touch.
6. Serve. Let cool for a few minutes before serving. These are wonderful alongside roasted lamb, with a simple cream sauce, or tucked into a bowl with mashed potatoes and lingonberry jam.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 165 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 19g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 380mg