You fry herb-heavy meatballs until the kitchen smells of mint and oregano. The crust is thin; the inside is tender, cumin-warm, onion-sweet. You eat them with your fingers while the oil is still on them, tzatziki cold against the fried crust.
Every household has a ratio. Mint is the Greek note — more than parsley, more than the cumin that hints east. They belong on the mezze table, piled in the middle, never sent out as a lonely course.
Rest the mixture so it binds. Dust lightly in flour and fry in batches; do not crowd the pan or they will steam. Lemon and tzatziki on the side.
Method
- 01
Put the beef and pork in a bowl with the grated onion, the soaked bread, the egg, the mint, parsley, oregano, cumin, salt, and pepper. Knead with your hands until the mixture is sticky and bound — you'll feel it come together, from loose to cohesive, in a minute or two. Don't be timid; a well-kneaded mixture holds in the pan. Cover and rest it 20 minutes in the refrigerator so it firms.
- 02
With damp hands, shape the mixture into walnut-sized balls — about the size you'd pop in your mouth in two bites, which is how they're eaten at the table. Roll each one lightly in flour, just a dusting to help the crust form, and shake off any excess. Set them on a plate as you go. You should have a handsome little army of them, ready for the pan.
- 03
Heat ⅓ inch of oil in a wide skillet until it shimmers, then fry the keftedes in batches — do not crowd the pan, or they'll steam instead of crust. Turn them as they color, until they're brown on all sides and just cooked through, about 6 minutes. The kitchen will smell of mint and oregano, which is how you know you're doing it right. Keep the finished ones warm on paper while you fry the rest.
- 04
Drain them briefly on paper, then pile them on a warm plate while they're still hissing. Serve them hot, with lemon wedges and a bowl of tzatziki — the cold yogurt against the fried crust is the whole idea. They belong in the middle of the table, eaten with the fingers while the oil is still on them. Don't send them out as a lonely course; they want company.
