The Closet Italian

Italian food is always a cuisine that I underestimate. Whenever choosing a restaurant or recipe, Italian always has some sort of stigma in my head of being heavy and laden with tomato sauce. But in reality, Italian food is an expression of simplicity, beautiful presentation, and the use of delicious ingredients in their most organic state. This makes for a delicious recipe, even though looks may be deceiving.

That being said, I decided to try my luck at pasta making this week. We have had a pasta maker for a little while now, and I have been dying to use it, so I made time to do it. I decided to use an Eric Ripert recipe for the actual making of the pasta, and a Cooking Light "Pappardelle with Roasted Winter Squash, Arugula, and Pine Nuts", for the remaining of the preparation.

So I start with my well.

Flour, eggs, and a dash of salt, are poured gently into my well to begin making the dough. What I had determined would be easy, turned out to be the beginning of a small nightmare. First, I think I may have combined too much of the flour with the eggs in the well, far too quickly. For this unknown mistake, my "dough" turned into a coarse meal, and not a soft and silky, HOMOGENEOUS, piece of dough. Therefore, after several minutes of kneading, I came to the conclusion that my "sand" was not going to transform itself without any help. I decided that the only way to save the dough, was to add water, and lots of it. I know that this may seem like a pastry chefs worst nightmare, but I did what I had to do. It won't happen again...

Minutes later, after water and all, I have dough, which goes into the fridge for at least thirty minutes, but in my case, a few hours.

Hours later, the actual rolling of the pasta arrives. Since I didn't address the degree of difficulty associated with the dough making, I was by no means feeling carefree about rolling the pasta.

I prepared the dough by rolling it out to a large rectangle, and then I feed it through the machine at the widest setting...Easy! Success.

I fold the dough in half, and repeat the process...It worked again! Now I am feeling cocky, and continue the rest of the process with ease. I crank out some linguine for my father, which is done effortlessly by the machine, and then cut my mother and myself some rustic pappardelle. I gently drape the pasta over a floured baking sheet, and prepare the rest of the ingredients in the recipe. Little did I know, the REAL problems began simply, with the way I let my pasta wait.

In the meantime, I roast my butternut squash with balsamic vinegar, oil, and salt. What I am left with, is a beautifully crisp, and delicious tray of cubed butternut squash. Next, I have a mixture of pine nuts, sage, and garlic, ready to be sauteed in a pan with butter. This is all to be done at the last minute, so I get everything ready to go, and wait until the proper time to cook my pasta.

When this time arrives, I toss my fathers in first. Well, I had the pasta waiting on top of each other, and what is obvious now, stunned me at the time. The pasta or dough, being very malleable, combined itself right in with all of the other pasta that it was nestled on top of. Consequently, I had one giant clump of linguine strands melded together. I drop them(it?) in the water, with high hopes that they may separate with cooking.

2 minutes later, the linguine has separated slightly, but I find that it can be pulled apart easily, after cooking, so I move onto the pappardelle. Well...

The situation here is much worse. The ribbons are not coming apart, which has turned my, what was beautiful pasta ribbons, into small, uneven chunks of dough. What I did salvage(which was plenty) didn't have the same appeal, as the original look of the sheets, but I had to get them in the pot regardless. While the pasta cooks, I melt the butter for the pine nut, sage and garlic mixture.

With frustration coursing through my body, and just when I didn't need it, I smell something. It is the familiar smell of burning...The nuts and garlic, are scorched in the pan. I never do this! Mindlessly, I had walked away and forgotten. In hot pursuit, I had to prepare that mixture again, drain the pasta, only to find that I have some very unappealing hunks, and finish preparing the meal.

I put the pappardelle in a bowl with the butternut squash, and throw in the now perfectly cooked pine nuts, and toss to combine. Now comes the arugula, and some freshly grated truffle cheese, and the pasta is ready to go. A huge sigh of relief is heaved, but I can still feeling a sort of nervous buzzing reverberating in my head.

The verdict: Well, the past isn't that great. My family and I found it to be a tad heavy, and something just wasn't right. We did agree on the fact that homemade pasta does have that certain something. A je ne sais quoi, that is unexplainable. Aside from this tragic end to the actual pasta, the recipe made was delicious and we would happily try it again with dry pasta...unless I make some real positive strives in the pasta making realm. Which reminds me of the beginning statement. Italian cooking may seem simple, but often that results in explosive flavor.

In the end, the whole pasta venture didn't really work out. I will definitely reattempt this journey again, after some careful research and observation. It was a fun project, and being able to say that you have made pasta is a truly rewarding accomplishment.