Struffoli

Recipe follows story

It wouldn’t be Christmas without a dose of hot, sticky, balls.

Struffoli are little flavor packed balls of dough that are deep fried, coated with honey, nuts and sprinkles.  They’re traditionally served on Christmas and Easter, but the Corrado’s only made and consumed Struffoli but once a year.  I don’t believe my mother liked cleaning up after these balls had exploded their goodness all over her tiny kitchen, so doing it two times a year wasn’t in the cards.  We would never dream of buying them from a bakery:  Tinamarie - they’re like cardboard.  They look like marbles and taste like marbles.  Mine are better.  My mother’s rants went something like that.  So, she and my father got to work - every year - fearless in their Struffoli making.  Turning out enough batches to feed an army, which is what was necessary to keep the folks in the Corrado home happy.

There were also no boundaries for Struffoli consumption.  Picking into the Struffoli plate days before Christmas, go ahead - but don’t eat too many - is what my mom would tell us.  Following fish salad on Christmas Eve dinner, of course - bring out the plates of Struffoli.  Christmas morning, sure - why not?  And don’t forget the Panettone and rum.   

Last year I went on and on about Struffoli and how I could never make it because it takes a certain level of patience.  Patience that I do not have when it comes to rolling out sticky dough, cutting snakes of said dough into perfect bite sized pieces, and then deep frying batches of little balls until they’re golden brown.  Then there’s the honeying and the mounding of the balls on to plates.  And the wrapping, and the sticky table, pots, remote controls - anything you touched in the Struffoli making process - sticky and tainted for days on end.

It’s a process, a process I’ve been unwilling to go through - even though those little sticky balls are delightfully addictive.  My mother would mound them a mile high, on a plastic holiday plate, using a glass to create the shape.  Once all of the Stuffoli settled, the honey would collect in the center of the large plate, and I can still see my father digging his fingers into the pool of honey and picking out the balls that were coated the most.  Mom would make Louis his own batch and every night, he would sit on the living room couch with a spoon and a cup of coffee and tear into his plate of sugary sweet delight.  

I’m spending Christmas with my Aunt Deb, Uncle Al and Cousin Danielle.  Of course, Struffoli is their favorite holiday treat.  My aunt makes about 1500 cookies in a holiday season, but she doesn’t mess with the hot, sticky, balls.

The woman takes me into her home and treats me like her own, I wasn’t going to roll out dough, cut, fry, and live in a honey  coated world all to make their little mouths happy?  I would be the worst niece ever if I showed up Struffoli-less.

On with the rolling, cutting and frying I went.  Unstoppable in my ripped yoga pants, that I never do yoga in, a wife beater and a bandana.  Flour coating my freshly cleaned tiled floor, fingers stuck together with tacky dough, oil popping in my face - I got to work.  Two batches, done.  Two batches pales in comparison to the eight my mom and dad make every year, in addition to her 15 some odd varieties of cookies.  I’ll get there.  Someday.  I hope.    

Making a mess with hot, sticky, balls was worth seeing the smile on my aunt, uncle and cousins faces.  When they saw the plates of Struffoli sitting on my kitchen table, I thought they saw heaven on earth.

When we sat on the couch watching It’s a Wonderful Life, passing the plate of Struffoli back and forth - picking apart the little balls with our little paws - my uncle exclaiming, now everything is sticky - my sweatpants, the table, the remote …

I smiled and nodded.  

So long as my mother and father, the dynamic duo of Struffoli making, are not with us on Christmas - I must uphold tradition.

My family has been using the same recipe from the NY Times for many years.  It’s flawless, there’s a hint of booze in every ball, and this sweet treat happens to pair well with champagne.

Check out the link above and read some of my fondest Struffoli memories. 

Happy Holidays.

xo

Struffoli

4 egg yolks
2 egg whites
4 T. white sugar
4 T. corn oil
1 T. distilled white vinegar
3 T. rye whiskey or bourbon
1 T. vanilla
2 c. pre-sifted all purpose flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking powder
Corn or vegetable oil
1 c. honey + 1/4 c. white sugar
2/3 c. toasted almonds
Non-paerils for decoration

-Beat together yolks, whites and sugar
-Beat in corn oil, vinegar, whiskey/bourbon, and vanilla
-Add flour, salt and baking powder and mix to a soft dough
-Cut dough into strips, rolling into strings that are about 1/4 of an inch thick
-Cut into the strip - making pieces that are about 1/4 of an inch thick
*repeat making strips and cutting until you’ve used all dough
-Pour oil into a deep frying pan (we used to use a wok, now my parents are high class so they use a deep fryer) - enough to coat the pan and deep fry the dough
-Once the oil is heated, transfer little balls into the oil and fry until they are light brown
-Once balls are browned, remove and place them on paper towels, so oil absorbs
*repeat frying process until all dough is fried
-Heat honey and sugar in a large pot, over a medium flame, when honey starts to boil/bubble, remove from heat and add in fried balls of dough
-Toss little balls and coat in honey, adding in almonds and continuing to toss to coat
-Transfer honeyed balls on to large plate and let set in a giant mound, topping with sprinkles