The word arancini in Italian means “little oranges.” But in the Sicily that named them, going back to the Arab occupation in the 12th century, they are literally no such thing.
They were named so, as you might expect, because of a physical resemblance. Some arancini – a deep-fried form of risotto – are round like balls, and some stretch into more of a pear shape. Either way, somebody hundreds of years ago took one look and proclaimed: little oranges! The name stuck, as culinary names have a way of doing. Though not often seen on Italian menus outside Sicily, they are omnipresent on the island. Arancini are a snack kept vaguely warm in cafes and even convenience stores in almost every city, town and village. And Italian restaurants around the world are only now beginning to catch on.
We’d be unwise – and, even worse, just plain wrong – to understate the culinary contributions of the Arab conquerors of Sicily, often known as Saracens or Saraceni. They, and they alone, are why Sicilians regularly eat couscous instead of pasta and chickpeas instead of cannellini beans, far removed from their Tuscan, Milanese or Venetian relatives (if they have any) far to the north. In Sicily, any dish known as Trapanesi or a la Trapanesi is connected to the town of Trapani, an Arab cultural stronghold.
Even before Italy was unified in the mid-1800s, people in the north were living a different life from people in Sicily. To this day, Sicilians will complain that they were always the breadbasket that fed the world above them, going back to ancient Roman times. Pride turns to anger in short order, though, when they tell you that every step of the way, Italy stole their agricultural riches and left Sicily to starve.
Since that is more or less a historical fact, we are left wondering how the mass immigration of “Italians” from Sicily and the far south of Italy’s mainland might have been different, or might never have happened. Or for that matter, why anything like the Mafia and other “vendetta societies” would have come to exist had Italy given Sicily a fair chance at official justice. Suffice it to say, Sicily is its own world, today and always, an island hanging off the end of Italy. And it’s a culture, you’ll be assured again and again, more Greek and especially more Arab, than it ever could be or would be Italian.
Arancini are one of those catch-as-you-can signature dishes. It’s made with risotto or just cooked rice, rolled in some crispy coating or other, and deep fried in oil. Presumably this fat was olive oil – a constant of life in Sicily throughout history – rather than the pork lard that Spaniards introduced for frying into North and South America, plus into their islands of the Caribbean. The faithful Muslim Saraceni would never have tolerated that.
By “catch as you can,” we mean Sicilian cooks toss into arancini anything they have handy. Ground beef, green peas and onion are pretty standard along with the cooked rice, though only the rice seems required. By Sicilian law, we hope. Eggplant turns up sometimes, since Sicilians adore eggplant (again from the Arabs) and slap it into any dish they can, including anything called “Norma” after Bellini’s opera. Frankly, or Franco-ly if you prefer, we’ve always stayed pretty close to the original. Arancini are the first foods we seek out, even at the nearest petrol station, when we arrive in Sicily.
ARANCINI
In Palermo, the Feast of Santa Lucia (Dec. 13, and you must know the song, even if it is from Naples) cries out for traditional and not-so-traditional Sicilian arancini. You see the savory delights offered at street celebrations by a hundred food stalls and stands, drawing at least some of their festive atmosphere from the fast-approaching Christmas season.
2 cups arborio rice
4 cups water
½ teaspoon salt
2 eggs, separated
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
¼ cup shredded mozzarella
1/4 cup butter, melted
1/3 pound ground beef
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup tomato sauce
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
¼ teaspoon oregano
½ teaspoon basil
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes ¼ teaspoon dried parsley flakes
1-1/2 cups seasoned bread crumbs
Canola oil for deep-fat frying (or olive oil)
Mix the rice in a saucepan with the water. Simmer the rice for 15 minutes until done but still a bit al dente. Let the rice cool down before adding the egg. Mix in the egg yolks, the cheeses and butter. Cover in a bowl and refrigerate. Drizzle some olive oil into a large pan and cook the onions until translucent. Then add the meat, herbs and spices, salt and pepper. Cook until meat is browned. Next, add the tomato sauce to the meat and onions. Take the rice out of the refrigerator; add the meat mixture to the rice mix. Wetting your hands, form the rice-meat mix into balls about the size of a large golf ball.
Lay each finished ball on a sheet of wax paper as you work. Place egg whites and breadcrumbs in two separate bowls. Dip rice balls in egg whites, then roll in the breadcrumbs. In a deep sauté pan or deep-fat fryer, heat oil to 375°. Fry rice balls, a few at a time, for 1-2 minutes, turning to brown evenly until golden brown. Drain on paper towels. Serves 8-10.
