Regardless of location, I think we’d all agree that Disney food is one of the main attractions during your stay. Dining on site is a highlight of a Disney vacation – the ambiance, diversity of menu options, and kitchen talent provide a truly relaxed meal for even the most harried guest. It’s one of the few bits of magic you can’t bottle up and take back home with you.
Or can you?
On a recent trip, I purchased Kitchen Magic with Mickey, created by Pam Brandon and various Disney chefs. It’s broken up into traditional cookbook-esque chapters and each included recipe has allegedly been tested in a home kitchen and hail from all of the parks and cruise ships. Upon my return home, I thought it would be fun to work my way through this cookbook as a New Year’s Resolution because having a new infant just wasn’t hard enough. How difficult could this be?
I sifted through the recipes admiring my favorites: s’mores bake, pineapple coconut bread, haupia. This list isn’t exactly balanced and admittedly, I did flip to the desserts section first. I prefer a whisk to a knife; baking is calming and comfortable to me. The ingredients are familiar as is the process of putting a dessert together, but my husband was more interested in the starters and main courses. I was up to the challenge seeking to expand my repertoire. The first dish he chose: Arancini.
From Disney’s Grand Floridian Resort and Spa’s Citricos restaurant, these Italian fried rice balls are a longtime staple on the menu. I dove in to this recipe, gathering necessities, including a hot oil thermometer. I’m not really the type of at home cook who fries anything and the thought of heating a pot of boiling oil scared me, but I couldn’t back down now. My supplies at the ready, I began one of the first steps – decasing sausages. Let’s just pause here for a moment. While a meat lover, I can’t eat it off the bone. It feels too carnal to me (no, I’ve never had a Toluca Turkey Leg). The idea of sliding bits of raw sausage from the skeletal flesh that held its shape did not go over well. Ultimately, I ended up closing my eyes and wearing gloves to squeeze one end and push the innards down into a bowl. Once this process was over, I felt better (my husband had to dispose of the snakeskin casings). Adding browned sausage to rice and wine was simple. I can make risotto. It’s a labor of love, but I felt successful as the smell of veggies and herbs wafted from my pot. This was going to be awesome!
Until it wasn’t.
I was able to make golf-ball sized balls of rice with all the goodies. The problem, as anticipated, was the oil. I had my 4-5 cups in my stock pot ready to go, but the reality is that at home “chefs” don’t have quite the same Disney quality utensils. An assembly line was needed to:
- Dip balls into an egg mixture
- Roll said balls into breading
- Place oh-so-carefully into boiling hot oil
- Fry until golden brown
- Remove from pot of danger
The recipe in the cookbook serves 8-10, but did I amend it for 2? Nope. My kitchen was FILLED with rice balls, paper towels, and bread crumbs. It took almost two hours, but I eventually did finish cooking the arancini with limited oil wounds (I’d recommend a slotted spoon to tongs – rice squishes easily). I didn’t cook for several nights after because I met my dinner-making kitchen time quota on arancini night.
They were delicious, despite being a bit uh, rustic, in color. Here is the final product:
And while they weren’t wildly successful, I wouldn’t categorize them as a 100% fail either. I’m still afraid of boiling oil into which things are dropped and recipes that require a team of people, but I now understand that this is an art. If you want to make this for yourself, have a party and force your closest friends and family to help you. You can find Disney recipes on Eating WDW’s Pintrest page.
I’ve learned to appreciate arancini, and their makers, everywhere.
