I love dill. This doesn't exactly distinguish me as possessing an extraordinary palate, I know. Thing is, the taste of dill is one of Joe's most deep-seeded hates, so it's become an illicit herb in our household. I can sneak a pounded-to-a-pulp pinch of cilantro into a bowl of guacamole, but a single frond of dill embedded in an 8-serving casserole will give rise to an expression best described as "sucking on lemons". Not what I'm looking for (nor is he for that matter). Problem is, I'll never learn. I keep hoping against hope that he will get over this aversion and finally embrace the grassy, astringent tang of dill. It is such a distinct flavour that it becomes the signature element of any dish it's in. Consider Swedish meatballs, or pickles, or deviled eggs. There's just no omitting it from a recipe, which means omitting the recipe altogether. Feh, I say.

This conflict came to roost once again while I was watching an episode of Sarah's Weeknight Meals on PBS. Michael Psilakis, chef/owner of Kefi, Anthos and Mia Dona in NYC, was preparing a Greek meatball soup which brought back fond memories of an Avgolemono soup I'd made years ago. This 'sister soup', with the addition of rice-studded meatballs, called out to me on a very deep level. 

There was a problem from the get-go: the dish called for a fair amount of dill in both the meatballs and the broth. Forever optimistic - nay, foolish - I felt I might be able to get away with the dill in the meatballs, so long as I held back with the broth. However once I began to cook, I kept marching forward like a blank-eyed zombie, uncontrollable in my urge to dill all that was in my path. In the end, it was all too much dill even for an enthusiast like myself. Of course Joe took one sip and that unfortunate expression took hold of his sweet face, so there I was left with an eight-serving potful of soup all to myself. Crazy stubborn and a hater of waste, I powered through that soup. I ate it for lunch and dinner for three days while sating Joe with grilled paninis and other simple fare to keep him alive. After the last drop of soup was slurped with great relief, I was still left with a few meatballs. In the freezer they went until I was ready to reinvent them.

Cut to two months later... With a bag of whole wheat dinner rolls on the counter and few options in the fridge, I thought a very loose interpretation of a slider might be in order. I reheated a couple of meatballs and spread some mayonnaise and - dare I say it - lemon dill mustard on the buns. Always open to rejection, I thought that a hamburger-style presentation might lure Joe to give one of these a try so, with a hand of restraint, I used plain old yellow mustard on his. For me, this was a yummy reinvention; no unpleasant memories of dill-overkill were brought to the fore. Not so much for Joe - he wouldn't even take a bite. So I scraped the yellow mustard off of his wee burger and added a nice, thick gloop of lemon dill mustard. Mmmmmm.

greek meatball sliders

Adapted from sarahmoulton.com/weeknight meals

Makes 20-24 sliders

The meatballs are poached in a broth in order to cook the rice, but it also happens to result in a very tender meatball. After the meatballs are cooked, the stock can be strained to remove any bits of meat and frozen for future use.

2 quarts chicken stock
5 bay leaves
Kosher salt
Finely milled black pepper
1 lb loaf country white bread, crusts removed
2 cups whole milk
2 lbs ground chicken or turkey (preferably dark meat)
2 large eggs
1/4 cup grated fennel
4 shallots, finely chopped
3 tbsp roasted garlic puree
2 tbsp parsley
2 tbsp dill
2 tbsp mint
1 tsp grated lemon rind
1 cup short grain rice
4 eggs, separated
1/2 cup lemon juice
Extra virgin olive oil

20-24 soft whole wheat rolls

Combine 2 quarts water with the stock, bay leaves, and desired amount of salt in a large stockpot and bring to a boil over high heat. Break the bread into pieces and place in a bowl; add milk and set aside.

Combine chicken or turkey, eggs, fennel, shallots, garlic puree, parsley, dill, mint, lemon rind, and desired amount of salt and pepper in a large mixing bowl. Squeeze excess milk from bread; add bread and rice to meat mixture. Using an ice cream scoop, form equal size meatballs and transfer to a baking sheet. Drop meatballs into boiling stock, reduce heat to medium and poach meatballs until rice is cooked, 1 to 1 1/2 hours. 

Remove meatballs from broth and drain on a rack lined with paper towels, making sure all excess moisture is drained away. If necessary, reheat in a 350 degree oven for 10-15 minutes. Split bun, spread with mayonnaise and mustard of your choice, and top with meatball.

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