Spain Made Me Do It

The béchamel-based, air-fried, absolutely-worth-your-Saturday tapas situation

May 27, 2026

If there is one thing the Spanish do better than anyone else (besides just living life), it is the croquette. Small, crispy, molten in the middle — they show up at every tapas spread like they own the place. And honestly? They do.

I ate more croquettes in two weeks than I have in my entire life, in every shape, size, and filling imaginable. Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head! Jamón, chicken, bacalao, and a precarious one labeled only as meat.

They are crispy and ooey-gooey with filling that tastes like a savory dreamsicle. Served sometimes with a sauce but mostly on their own with some extra-thin and crispy potato chips (love me a double starch situation). They were always welcome and always delicious.

Coming home, I needed to recreate that feeling — without a deep fryer and without the meat, which is highly out of character for me. Enter: the leek and thyme croquettes. Same crispy shell, same molten béchamel center, zero regrets.

But before we get into it, a quick education on the filling that is actually a sauce and makes this whole thing possible.

BÉCHAMEL: A SUCCINCT HISTORY

Béchamel is a simple creamy white sauce — one of the Mother Sauces in French cooking. You may recognize her as the backbone of homemade mac and cheese (neon orange powder excluded).

The three ingredients in a bechamel sauce are butter, flour, and milk (salt, obviously). It’s a blank canvas begging for fun additions, hence the plethora of meats vying for filling status. Now that you’re in the know — let’s make some ridiculously tasty balls of joy.

PREPARE THE LEEKS

Slice off the hairy root end and the tough top of the green part. (You can eat the green parts — they’re just tougher and need longer to cook.) Halve the leek lengthwise, then slice into thin half-moons.

Important: Wash your damn leeks. Do not pass go, do not collect $100, wash your damn leeks. Or suffer the gritty leek consequences. Submerge the leeks in a large bowl of water, break them up, give them vigorous shakes, then let them sit quietly for a few minutes. Use your hand or a slotted spoon to lift them out — all the grit settles to the bottom. Don’t agitate the water on the way out, or you’re back to gritty leek consequences.

COOK THE LEEKS

Add a glug of olive oil and a pat of butter to a pot (official terms of measurement), heat, and add the leeks. Stand back if they’re still wet — water and hot oil are not friends. Season with salt and pepper (you’re not an amateur) and give everybody a good stir.

We are not looking to get any color on our leeks; we just want them to be translucent and soft. (Like our hearts.) It’ll take a minute, relax. If you can multitask, then proceed to the next step while the leeks cook.

INFUSE THE MILK

No star meat player means every other flavor has to pull its weight. Leeks are milder, sweeter, and butterier than a regular onion — perfect partners for a blank-canvas béchamel. To maximize that, we're going to simmer the milk with thyme, onion, and bay leaves. Not boil. Watch this pot closely and keep the heat low, or your milk will boil over and make a mess. You have been warned.

WHEN THE LEEKS ARE DONE

Remove them from the pot and set aside.

BÉCHAMEL, BABY

In the same pot you cooked your leeks (look at me, saving you a dish), melt the butter. The moment the butter melts, add the flour. Using a wooden spoon, mix this paste around for at least one minute. It is important to cook out the flour taste, or your filling will taste like a pastry bench.

After the longest minute of your life, slowly drizzle in the warm milk (fish out the bay leaves and onion first) and whisk like your life depends on it. Pour the milk too fast, and you will get lumps. Pour it too slow and your arm cramps up, and you may die of whisk fatigue (that’s real, Google it).

Trust the process — it will come together. If it seems too runny, let it cook down for a few minutes, stirring constantly so nothing scorches. The mixture will get thicccc and start clinging to the sides of the pan. This is a good sign.

We are going to add our nutmeg, lemon zest, and our beautifully cooked leeks to the thiccccc bechamel base. I also added a sneaky palmful of parmesan cheese, stirred it together, and TASTE. If this mixture doesn’t taste right, the end result won’t taste right. Adjust your seasonings.

Pro tip: it probably needs more salt.

Pour into a shallow baking dish and refrigerate overnight to solidify — or, a more unsavory word, coagulate. It'll be firm to the touch but still scoopable. We will, in fact, be scooping and hand-rolling every. single. one. I never said this was fast. I just said we weren't deep-frying.

SHAPE THE BALLS

Using a #30 cafeteria scoop (or a spoon), portion the croquettes onto a lined sheet tray. Roll each one into a ball and return them to the fridge while you set up the next god-forsaken step. (Are we there yet?!)

Two bowls: one with egg wash (both eggs scrambled with a splash of milk), one with panko bread crumbs — add a little oil at a time until the crumbs feel like wet sand. Dip each ball in egg wash, then drop it into the crumbs, coating all sides. Back on the tray. Phewwwww.

PAUSE FOR LIFE REFLECTION

You have options. The balls can go back into the fridge for 30 minutes to firm up before cooking, OR you can put these premade balls straight into the freezer. Perfect for a rainy day or the Tapas Party you are throwing later this summer, but wanted to get a head start on. (Same girl, same).

NO DEEP-FRYING IN THIS HOUSE

I just can't. It smells, it's wasteful, and I didn't miss it here. These are croquettes, not French fries. The air fryer worked beautifully.

375°F for 10 minutes.

Reminder: The filling is essentially molten lava fresh out of the air fryer. Let the balls sit for a minute or two, or risk scalding your tongue in the name of a piping hot croquette. Don't say I didn't warn you, Sally.

TO SERVE

After all that, a simple garlic aioli mustard is all you need — I got mine premade, and I have zero regrets. Finely chopped chives would be lovely. An edible flower would literally blow your guests' minds.

And that, my friends, is how to make croquettes the super light and super easy way😝. Say goodbye to your Saturday. Say hello to some genuinely mouthwatering NOT deep-fried croquettes. Nobody missed the meat. Make them and report back!

Thyme & Leek Croquettes—no deep fryer required

Ingredients:

1 small onion
2 bay leaves
4 springs fresh thyme
2 medium leeks
zest from half a lemon
3 cups whole milk
3 oz butter
3 oz flour
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/8 t ground nutmeg
2 eggs
2 cups panko bread crumbs (as needed)
1/3 c olive oil (as needed)

Abbreviated Instructions: (How boring😴, but I would really like you to make these, and this may be more practical.)

Slice leeks into thin half-moons, removing root and tough green tops. Wash leeks thoroughly in a bowl of water; lift out gently and let the grit settle. Sauté leeks in olive oil and butter over medium heat until translucent and soft. Season with salt and pepper. Remove leeks from the pot and set aside.

Simmer milk with thyme, onion, and bay leaves on low heat. Do not boil.

Melt butter in the same pot used for the leeks, add flour, and stir for one full minute. Slowly drizzle in warm milk (strained), whisking constantly until smooth and thick. Stir in nutmeg, lemon zest, parmesan, and cooked leeks. Taste and adjust seasoning.

Pour béchamel into a shallow dish and refrigerate overnight until firm.

Scoop and hand-roll mixture into balls; chill on a lined sheet tray. Dip each ball in egg wash, then coat in oiled panko breadcrumbs. Refrigerate 30 minutes (or freeze for later).

Air fry at 375°F for 10 minutes.

Rest 2 minutes before serving — filling is molten hot. Serve with garlic aioli mustard and chives.