Tired of tying tiny meat rolls? Use a toothpick for a hassle-free, delicious brol!
Brol, translated literally, just means chop, as in a pork chop. However, in southern Italy, it's usually a stuffed meat roll. Here in the US, where the southern Italian foodways historically dominate, it's typically a braised beef roll, usually small, so everybody gets a whole one. I grew up with these and love them, but I hate wrapping and unwrapping each tiny roll in butcher twine. I'm going to show you an easier way.
Damn near any cut of beef could work, but the eye of round roast is popular. This is one of the hamstrings on the cattle. It's lean, so it doesn't leak a ton of grease into your sauce, and it has long, perfectly parallel meat fibers. That's good because this is one of the few times when you really might want to slice meat with the grain, cut parallel to the fibers. You'll see why at the very end. I'm just slicing this as thin as I reasonably can while minimizing the risk of slicing into my hand. There's really no safe way to do this; you just have to go slowly and methodically, pick your hand up a lot to check and see where the knife is, and use a really sharp knife so that you don't have to push too hard—just saw gently. This roast was like 10 bucks, about a pound and a half (700 grams), and I got seven pieces.
Lots of recipes tell you to pound these out to get them flatter and wider, but a meat mallet does almost nothing on a cut like this cut with the grain. The muscle fibers are just too strong; there's no point in pounding, so just skip it.
Time for filling. I'll peel and chop half a head of garlic and might as well chop in my big bunch of fresh parsley while I'm at it. Get that nice and fine—the finer it is, the less likely it is to fall out. I'll zest a lemon because I have one, grate a big pile of Parmesan, and add a roughly equal quantity of breadcrumbs. Panko is my jam for stuffing because it absorbs more liquid. Other than the crumbs, everything we put in here needs to be really strongly flavored, hence the capers. There just isn't much room for filling in a little brol, so you just have to make sure you're not wasting space. I've got this sweet pickle relish in the fridge that I bet will be awesome in this. You could use a million things—a handful of chili flakes, some black pepper, and a pinch of salt. The cheese and capers are already salty, so I don't need much salt. I'll mix all that up together, slap it on our first slice of beef, and roll her up, leaving the seam on the bottom so that gravity holds it closed. A thin layer of filling, thin layer—there's no real trick to this other than to start rolling with the thinnest end of the meat so that the thin end is tucked inside. I'm about out of filling, but I bet that if I use the last piece here to mop up those last bits, yeah, that'll work for a small one.
Now, instead of tying each of these together, I'm going to take one toothpick and press it in diagonally until I feel it hit the board. With the diagonal, you're just making contact with more meat. This still would not be secure enough to cook brol in a pan, but we're not using a pan.
Normally, you would roll these around in a pan to brown them, but I’m going to use my roasting tray, which is gentler and reduces the risk of them bursting open without string. Keep them far apart so hot air circulates around them. Add a little more olive oil on top and season aggressively because a lot will dissolve into the sauce. Place them in the oven at 400°F (200°C), ideally with convection, and brown them for a few minutes until the meat starts to retract. This is all the intense heat they need. Next, pour in two 28-ounce cans of high-quality crushed tomatoes. To account for evaporation, add a splash of water or wine. Ensure the pieces are covered in sauce. Cover the tray to retain steam and reduce the heat to 300°F (150°C) or even lower if you have all day.
Five hours later, without stirring or checking, I use a fork to test the meat's tenderness. If I can start to pull the fibers apart, I’m happy. For serving whole, cook until very soft, but since I plan to slice them into pinwheels, I want them to hold together. With the meat out, finish the sauce by stirring and tasting it. It’s perfect, with a huge amount of flavor and zero effort. The sauce is bright due to the low heat. Now is a good time to drop my pasta. This sauce is enough for at least a whole one-pound box, serving four people, but I’m making enough for two and will have leftovers. Freshly cooked pasta with reheated sauce and braised meat is often better than on the day it was cooked.
Once cooled, I remove the toothpicks using tongs. Time to slice: cutting the beef with the grain ensures long loops of muscle fiber around the slices, holding them together even though the meat is braised soft. If cut against the grain, the slices would shred. Drain the pasta, mix in some sauce and fresh basil at the last second, and plate it. Lift the meat on top, fan out the slices to showcase your hard work, and maybe add a little more sauce without covering the pinwheels. The filling is incredibly good, but almost any pickles or condiments from the fridge can work. If you prefer the meat softer, braise it longer. Mangia!