A friend of mine posted on Facebook the other day about his plans for New Year’s Eve cooking. I was a little surprised, mostly because I didn’t know he could cook, but also because he was researching and making a traditional Scottish New Year’s Eve pudding.
I don’t have any traditional New Year’s Eve recipes. I’ve cooked a lot of dishes for New Year’s Eve dinners and parties over the years, but something that welcomes in the New Year as part of a traditional, annual celebration – I don’t have a thing.
Well, maybe one.
When I was married to The Foreigner, I received two copies of the exact same Dutch cookbook
For New Year’s Eve, he wanted me to make one thing, and I obliged: Olieballen. They are fritters, a yeast-raised dough containing a bit of lemon peel and assorted dried fruits (raisins and currants usually), deep fried in oil.
They were good and I liked them, and foolishly tried to make them on some random Sunday. The Foreigner got very upset and insisted that I not make them that day. They were for New Year’s Eve and only New Year’s Eve. Any other time was messing with tradition. He was adamant and though I couldn’t quite see his point, I obliged.
I made them on New Year’s Eve for him – the one or two years we were home for it, at least – and then when we divorced, banished the cookbook to storage and promptly forgot all about it.
Until I started reading about my friend’s traditional Clootie Pudding on Facebook.
Then I thought, well, perhaps The Child would enjoy being exposed to her Dutch heritage. It’s not like The Foreigner is going to do it – he didn’t even bother with sending her a gift this year for either Dutch Sinterklaas or American Christmas.
She and I didn’t have any plans, so I thought, it will be a nice way to spend the evening.
Except that, unlike me, she got an invitation for a sleepover at the last minute, leaving me home alone with a bowl full of rising dough. I set it aside and spent the evening watching a Doctor Who marathon, and enjoying the quiet house.
In the morning, the bowl was waiting for me. You’re not supposed to make Olieballen New Year’s Day. Maybe it’s a law? Something must be against the law over there.
But it’s perfectly legal here, and I made them as the sun rose on the first day of the New Year, and thought to myself: Tradition is good, but so are fresh starts.
And when you figure out how to adjust the tradition so that it fits comfortably into your life , wherever you find yourself – and it won’t be where you planned – well, that’s the best.
Happy New Year, one and all.
- 1 tsp dried yeast
- 1 tsp sugar
- ½ cup plus 2 tbsp milk
- 1⅔ cup flour
- ½ tsp salt
- 1 tsp grated lemon zest
- 2 eggs
- ½ cup raisins
- ½ cup currants
- ¼ cup finely minced candied ginger
- vegetable oil for deep frying
- powdered sugar for coating
- Dissolve the yeast and sugar in the milk, set aside.
- Mix the flour, salt, and lemon zest in a large bowl. Make a well in the center and add the yeast mixture, blending it partially in. Beat the eggs lightly, then add to the flour mixture and beat with a wooden spoon until the ingredients form a smooth batter.
- Mix in the fruit.
- Cover and leave dough to rise until doubled (several hours or overnight).
- When ready to make them, heat oil in a deep pan until very hot (375 deg.). Using a spoon or small scoop dipped in the hot oil, scoop out small egg-shaped pieces of dough and drop into the hot oil. Cook until nicely browned, turning as needed and being careful not to crowd.
- Drain on brown bags.
- If you wish to toss them in powdered sugar, put the olieballen into a large brown paper bag and add powdered sugar. Shake the bag a few times until coated.
