Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Making (and swearing at) Ravioli








I had bright idea the day before yesterday, (i feel strange using words like 'ereyesterday' and 'nudiustertian' both of which mean 'the day before yesterday', so i won't). As i was pottering around the sunny house and perusing pinterest, I felt the need to make pasta from scratch. I have always been the idealist, picturing my some-day house with it's wide, farm-kitchen table, jars of herbs on the windowsill and a floury apron worn while i knead dough and stir multiple pots on the stove. I have never made pasta before, so I consulted pinterest (the well-photographed food makes me more inspired to cook) and began my adventure. I loved the visceral muddle of hand-mixing the eggs into the soft 'well' of flour, then the springy dough to knead. The first part went well and i let it sit for a while as i made the filling.
I had made two batches, one of spelt for mum and I, the other wheat for the boys. The spelt dough and I became friends, it behaved well as i rolled it determinedly and cut out little discs to fill with pumpkin, feta and basil (flowers!). The wheat dough and I did not become friends, however. I guess i was wrong to attempt pasta-making without a pasta-maker, but there may have been a bit of swearing and a lot of sweating in the overheated kitchen and I did not enjoy making the wheat pasta after all.
apparently it tasted good, though. I was worried it would be tough from all the crankiness i put into it.
also, I was let off the dishes thanks to my heavy slog, that was a perk.

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