A short true story about rissoles:

[trof]

Hilda was a friend for several years prior to her death at 95.
She was born in Germany near the turn of the last century and, at age 16, went to what was then British East Africa to start a tea plantation.
There she met and eventually married George, who was a district commissioner.
To say that she was an interesting lady would be an understatement.

She was visiting us a few years before she died.
I told her I was going to smoke a turkey for us the next day.
"SPLENDID! I shall make rissoles. I used to make them in Kenya."

She found a box of Pepperidge Farm dressing mix in the pantry.
Dumped it in a big bowl and added chopped onions and garlic.
Went out to the herb garden and grabbed a handful of just about every aromatic thing there.
I remember there was sage and rosemary and basil and who knows what else.

She added enough of a can of chicken broth to make a thick mixture.
Then she put a little oil in a cast iron frying pan and cooked them.
Nice and crunchy on the outside, moist on the inside..
And ever since, then that's been the way I like my turkey-and-dressing.

Give it a try.
I think you'll like it.