It might be said that lately I have been ill.
I've had (as Christopher Walken put in during his infamous Blue Oyster Cult skit on SNL) a "fever".
Unlike Mr. Walken's compulsion for cowbell, however, my penchant has been for pasta. I should point out, though, that cowbell is a close second, even so many years past BOC's glory days.
It all started a little more than a week ago while I was watching reruns of Molto Mario, Mario Batali's short-lived cooking show for the Food Network, recently revived in syndication by the Fine Living channel.
A little background first: Molto Mario was, more or less, a disaster. The format was poorly matched with either the subject matter or Batali's personal style, and the guests appeared wooden at best and confused as to their whereabouts at worst. Mario did his best to buoy the half hour with his oversized personality and obvious love of the subject matter, but he was often not equal to the task.
The other thing to note about the show - and the reason I continue to record previously unseen episodes on our DVR (much to the consternation of the rest of my family) is the food. Setting aside the obvious weaknesses in the show's format; ignoring the guests' apparent struggles with encephalitis lethargica (see 'Awakenings'). The message Batali is wading through the show to deliver is about the quality of simple food and great ingredients, and one of the foundations of simple Italian cuisine (at least the regions Mario is most at home with: Campania and Emilia Romagna - specifically Bologna) is pasta.
Before going too much further on this seemingly sensitive post I think it's particularly important to point out that I only watch this show between my thrice daily weight lifting workouts and my training sessions for the cage fighting championship. I need something to take the edge off, lest I become a danger to myself and others, and I find the Fine Living channel to be the perfect balm to temper my boundless rage.
...short pause to adjust myself...
Now, the pasta...
I've enjoyed cooking for a long time. I particularly gravitate toward cuisine that is delicious, but not overly fussy. Italians tend to share the same food sensibilities and, like me, a certain distrust of any style that attempts to dictate the exact cubic volume of a "fine dice" (see French cuisine). I fully appreciate the skills that go along with the more meticulous styles. They take years to perfect, and are an art form unto themselves, but I can't help feeling like some of the basic pleasure of the food is lost in all the details.
Pasta has always been a little intimidating for me, even in the relatively visceral discipline of Italian cuisine. I didn't even consider the prospect of making pasta for years. The concept of making dough was bad enough, but then to have to form *things* out of it - shapes and all - was just too much for me. There was definitely a perceived level of difficulty there that I did not feel equal to.
...five minute break while I watch some mixed martial arts (MMA) videos and slug Wild Turkey with my bros...
So, I went along, doing my best with dried pasta. I investigated various brands available to me locally and learned which ones were better than others. I took notes on how best to prepare the dried pasta and sauce it (undercook it slightly in the pasta water, then finish it over heat in the pan with the condimento, adding pasta water if the sauce is too tight). I got pretty good at it...
...but I couldn't make a traditional lasagna from scratch.
...I couldn't prepare my own goat-cheese and scallion filled tortellini.
The fact that I hadn't ever made pasta did not make me feel like an impostor when I served meals to my family and friends. Dried pasta is very, very common in everyday Italian cuisine. The problem was that there was a challenge I felt like I had avoided, so a couple of weeks ago I bought a pasta roller and started experimenting.
The recipe for basic pasta dough is simplicity itself. One egg (extra large or jumbo - I use jumbo) per one hundred grams of flour works almost exactly every time. I will not delve into the details and mechanics of making the dough. There are enough resources online that are more than adequate, but I will leave you with two words: "well method". It's worth the extra hassle the first couple of tries.
My first batch of dough turned out pretty poorly, which was actually okay, since the manufacturer of the pasta roller suggests using the first batch of dough to work the metal shavings out of the machine (a tip I found both helpful and offputting - I still examine every batch closely). I used too much flour, and I did not develop the dough enough through kneading, so I wound up with something close to a piece of undried adobe.
...30 minute break to finish rebuilding that hemi I've been working on, put in a fresh plug of Copie, and adjust myself...
Since the first batch, though, my progress has been steady. The dough is getting smoother and smoother; I'm learning to trust the roller and the dough's elasticity more and more, and I've found a very good flour ('OO', found in a local Italian market) that works really well. I've made tagliatelle, linguine, tortellini, lasagna and gramigne (weed-shaped pasta) so far. This weekend, I made fresh pasta every day. My problem right now is that I don't seem to be able to stop making it. I'm sure it will work out of my system eventually, and it will become a more occassional thing, but for now I feel like I'm making up for lost opportunities during all those years I actually felt like it would be too difficult or time-consuming to make my own. Oh well, hindsight is 20/20.
Maybe ravioli this week, or papardelle - I think I've found a local purveyor of wild boar...
...but first I'll have to take care of that family of wildcats in the shed out back. Some would say a call to animal control would be safest; others would say at least the benefit of a high-powered firearm would be necessary...
...guess I won't even mention the rattlesnakes...sissies.