Who doesn’t love meatballs? Fried, in tomato sauce, on top of pasta, or on their own, they are the ultimate comfort food.
Used to the deliciousness of my own grandmother’s polpette al sugo, a staple of my childhood — which I attempt to make often, even though they quite never hit the spot as much as those nonna made — I was surprised to learn, while leafing through the pages of La Cucina Italiana, that Milan has its own version of polpette. They are called mondeghili, and they are a true living expression of the city’s past — shaped by foreign influence, economic necessity, and the ever-evolving culinary habits you’d expect in a place as cosmopolitan as Milan has always been.
The name “mondeghili” itself hints at this cosmopolitan origin, as it comes from the Spanish word albondigas, meaning meatballs, which in turn comes from the Arabic al-bunduq, referring to small round objects like hazelnuts. Now, if there is an example of linguistic and culinary exchange, this is it: during the Spanish domination of Milan from 1535 to 1706, the Iberian rulers left their mark on local food, and mondeghili were one of the results. As Massimo Lanari points out in his excellent article for La Cucina Italiana (the one that picked my interest), while in most of Italy meatballs are round by default, in Milan, the more typical polpette are usually rolled or wrapped. The spherically shaped version — our mondeghili — is the real Spanish legacy.
But if you think mondeghili belonged to the dominant Spanish élite of manzoniana memoria, think again, because you would have been more likely to find them on the table of Renzo Tramaglino than on that of Don Rodrigo. They were a frugal solution to a common problem: what to do with leftover meat. True to the spirit of cucina povera, mondeghili were originally made with boiled beef scraps, sometimes enriched with bits of salami, mortadella, liver sausage, or whatever else was available. These were mixed with stale bread soaked in milk, a bit of grated cheese, eggs, parsley, salt, and pepper, then fried in butter. The goal was to waste nothing and stretch ingredients into something good.
In the Dizionario Milanese-Italiano of 1839, Francesco Cherubini described mondeghili as “a kind of meatball made with leftover meat, bread, egg, and similar ingredients.” Three years later, physician Angelo Dubini wrote in his book La Cucina per gli Stomachi Deboli (Cooking for Weak Stomachs) that one should “never eat mondeghili at the tavern,” suggesting they were a dish not for the delicate or faint-hearted. Over time, however, the recipe changed. Potatoes, which were initially rare in Milanese kitchens, made their way into some versions by the 19th century. Tomato sauce — common in Spanish albondigas — also made an occasional appearance. Still, the essential idea stayed the same: reuse, recycle, fry, enjoy.
Milan recognized the value of the dish officially in 2008, granting it De.Co. (Denominazione Comunale d’Origine) Status, a label meant to preserve the city’s gastronomic heritage. Indeed, modern chefs and eateries continue to honor this tradition, and there are a few places in town known for their mondeghili, including Osteria del Treno, Trattoria Masuelli, and the more contemporary Ratanà. Each has its own take, but the spirit of the dish remains intact — homely, nostalgic, and … Milanese. This quiet revival of local dishes like mondeghili in modern Milan is, to say it with the author of the Divina Milano blog, about cultural memory. It connects older generations with their childhoods and younger ones to the youth of their parents and grandparents.
With so much interest around them — and so many trendy restaurants offering their own version — it isn’t surprising to learn that many tours of Milan highlight mondeghili as must-try bites for food lovers: they’re served in aperitivo spreads, paired with a glass of red wine or a spritz, and often shared among friends. Their small size and crisp exterior make them a natural crowd-pleaser, but it’s their backstory that gives them lasting appeal!
Last but not least, mondeghili also carry a certain literary mystique — as the literature fanatics among you may have noticed in some of my words in the previous paragraphs: Alessandro Manzoni, in The Betrothed (I Promessi Sposi), has his character Renzo tempted by a plate of mondeghili offered at an inn. But scholars agree these were not mondeghili as we know them. Rather, they likely referred to rolled meat preparations more typical of Milanese osterie at the time — proof that terminology has always been fluid when it comes to polpette in Lombardy.
Fancy giving it a go? Here we propose La Cucina Italiana‘s 2021 recipe for Milan’s mondeghili, which comes with the assurance it is the “traditional” one. A quick search online will show you plenty of famous Italian culinary platforms — from Giallo Zafferano, to the online version of the Cucchiaio d’Argento — pitching their own recipe: choose your favorite!
Traditional mondeghili
Ingredients (serves 6):
- 1¼ lbs boiled beef (preferably brisket or chuck)
- ⅔ cup milk
- 4 oz mortadella (about 2 thick slices, chopped)
- 3 oz stale bread (about 2 slices, crust removed)
- ½ cup grated Grana Padano (or Parmesan)
- 3 tbsp unsalted butter
- 3 tbsp clarified butter (or substitute with more regular butter)
- 4 eggs
- Breadcrumbs, as needed
- Salt, pepper, chopped parsley, flour (for seasoning, dredging, and coating)
Preparation:
- Soak the stale bread in milk for 15–20 minutes.
- Finely chop the boiled beef and mortadella, then pass through a meat grinder.
- Mix with 2 eggs, grated cheese, salt, pepper, and chopped parsley.
- Add the soaked bread and combine thoroughly.
- Shape the mixture into around 20 slightly flattened meatballs (about 50 g each).
- Dredge in flour, dip in beaten eggs, then coat in breadcrumbs.
- Fry in clarified butter and regular butter until golden on both sides.
- Serve hot, optionally adding a pinch of salt.
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