Aubergine Polpette

Most of the dishes in my cooking repertoire are, without any doubt, arrived from family memories and cooking habits especially rooted by my grandmother, who has always welcomed some variation to the dishes cooked by my mom with a “mine’s better", especially when ‘to change’ meant ‘to lighten’.
Adding crushed caraway seeds to the buttered carrots is equivalent to seeing perplexity on her face and also a bit of disappointment, like when in the apricot cake I decided to add a sprig of rosemary.
Even simple eggs, for example, are only allowed in frittata or hard boiled: what would be the fried eggs? What oddity is the omelet ever?
I am happy to have learned the recipes of traditional venetian dishes but also to have acquired them to the level of making them my own, without changes. I am also very lucky though, because over time I have met people from all over Italy because of the blog and in my kitchen have entered dishes from other regions, that have conquered me and that have become part of my cooking repertoire: Giulia's artichokes with aromatic garlic and pancetta battuto, Anna's rice tiella (also told by Barbara), Valentina's eggplant polpette.

They are delicious: Valentina tells us that on every occasion of family gathering her aunt Nora cooked 70 to 100 pieces, as a snack, as amuse-bouches before equally abundant lunches ... what a beauty.
Compared to Valentina's recipe, I omitted the garlic because nobody digests it here, even if it would be fine: together with the basil I added chopped parsley.
The doses are intentionally not indicated in Valentina's recipe because in her memory and habit they have always been like this: I tried to do them several times and I found a “right for me” dose, even if they must always be adjusted according to the density that you get.

Dice the aubergines and boil them in salted water until softened.
Drain and cool it, then squeeze it in your hands, almost completely depriving it of the water absorbed during cooking.
Pour into a bowl and add the crumbled bread, Parmesan, eggs, basil and chopped parsley and salt.
Knead until the mixture is soft and easily mouldable, adding breadcrumbs if it is still a little too wet or some egg if too hard.
With your hands make some little balls, in the size of a ping pong ball, and roll them in breadcrumbs.
Meanwhile heat plenty of seed oil in a large pan.
Fry the meatballs a few at a time and drain from the oil with a slotted spoon when they have taken on a beautiful color similar to bronze.
Pass the polpette on absorbent paper and drain well from any excess oil.