Fresh Pasta When my editor suggested I write about fresh pasta, my immediate reaction was, "Why make fresh pasta when good dried pasta is ubiquitous? Besides, it takes too long to make." However, a few culinary colleagues have set me straight. "One of the chief virtues of dried pasta is that firmness beneath your teeth, that al dente quality," says Janet Fletcher, author of Four Seasons Pasta (Chronicle). "Fresh pasta delivers a soft, velvety texture. You don't want to have any chew to it." Also, fresh pasta has a richer flavor than dried pasta because its dough, unlike that of most dried pastas, is made with eggs. Stuffed pasta such as ravioli, with your choice of fillings from seafood to sweet potatoes, is yet another incentive for making fresh pasta. And lastly, there is that primal feeling one gets from making something from scratch. "It's such a pleasure to get your hands in dough," says Fletcher. Making pasta at home may seem as antiquated as churning your own butter, but not so, according to Mariella Esposito, co-owner of Fante's, a specialty cookware store in Philadelphia. "Making pasta isn't hard," she says. "Our pasta machines always sell well once we explain how they work. Then people say, 'Oh, I didn't know it was that easy.'" Esposito goes on to say that a lot of younger people are getting into making fresh pasta the way their grandparents did. "These things tend to skip a generation," she comments. Yeah, like mine. I hadn't made fresh pasta in years. And yes, I was surprised by how easy it was. While Fletcher's book and others I consulted call for all-purpose flour to make the dough, some Italian chefs prefer to use OO flour from Italy. "All-purpose flour contains too much gluten, and it's very sensitive to humidity," says Francesco Berardinelli, a former chef of Alain Ducasse's in New York. Unfortunately, OO flour can be hard to find. Another option is semolina, which is made from a special hard wheat called durum wheat. It can be added to all-purpose flour (usually in amounts of up to 50 percent). This makes the pasta firmer and gives it a wheatier taste similar to that of dried pasta, which is usually 100 percent semolina. Eggs, water and olive oil are the liquids that bind pasta, and the amounts and combinations vary widely. For example, Fletcher uses extra large eggs; Lidia Bastianich, author of Lidia's Family Table (Knopf), uses large ones; and Wanda and Giovanna Tornabene, authors of 100 Ways to Be Pasta (Knopf), use small eggs (which are as scarce as OO flour). "Fresh pasta is like a pendulum," Bastianich states. "At one end, you have egg yolks and as much flour as the egg yolks will take, like the fettuccine in Bologna. At the other end, you have poor man's pasta with one or two eggs and a lot of water." Esposito has a simple formula: one egg per person. She then adds as much flour as the eggs will absorb. Bastianich and the Tornabenes use olive oil as well to add richness and suppleness to the pasta. If you use water, Giovanna Tornabene warns, "use only cold water or you will get lumps." In trying a number of different recipes, I found that one of Bastianch's works best: 2 cups all-purpose flour, 1 large egg yolk, 3 large whole eggs and 2 tablespoons olive oil. Mound the flour in a large mixing bowl, then make a well in the middle. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs lightly with the olive oil, and pour the mixture into the well. The Tornabenes add salt, but Bastianich says, "I think pasta is easier to knead and becomes smoother and softer when you don't put salt in ahead of time." After combining the dough and kneading it for a few minutes, it should feel fairly smooth and have no tackiness. If it still seems dry, add water by the teaspoon. If it's sticky, add flour by the tablespoon. Cover the dough with plastic wrap, and let it rest for 30 minutes at room temperature or 1 to 2 hours in the refrigerator. While rolling out and cutting the dough by hand gives the pasta more texture and thus the ability to absorb more sauce, most people prefer that a machine do the job—and perhaps mix the dough, too. At the low-tech, low-price end of the four machines I tried was the gleaming Imperia 150, which clamps onto a counter. It is hand-cranked, though there is an optional motor. Pasta is rolled out into sheets, then cut into shapes. Among the advantages of the Imperia and the almost identical machines by Atlas and Villaware are that they are cheap (all about $50) and simple. Among the disadvantages are that you need more dexterity to operate the crank (which keeps falling out) with one hand, while holding the rolled-out sheets with the other. Also, the machine moves, even when firmly clamped, and the pasta shape options are limited. At the other end of the spectrum are two all-in-one machines—the DeLonghi Pastamatic and the Ronco Pasta Maker—that mix dough and extrude it into shapes. Both machines are easy to use, make no mess and offer more variety of shapes than the Imperia et al. The DeLonghi pasta is softer and richer than the Ronco, in part because the former calls for more eggs and the latter recommends bread flour, which gives the pasta a sturdier texture. The disadvantages are that each has multiple parts that can be difficult to clean, especially the Ronco. The Ronco is less expensive ($100 vs. $130), and this shows up in some details, such as the shape-making dies, which are all plastic; the DeLonghi's are brass and plastic. My favorite, however—the KitchenAid mixer with pasta-roller and -cutter attachments—strikes a middle ground between the low-tech and fully automated machines. You get the feel of making pasta, but the mixer motor does all the hard work. One disadvantage is that you need to purchase the mixer just to use the attachment, but the mixer does do a nice job of making dough (as does a food processor). Another disadvantage is that the shape possibilities are, again, limited. This is somewhat offset by a separate ravioli attachment that did a darned good job on my pumpkin ravioli the first time out. Let the cut pasta dry just until it doesn't feel wet (15 minutes or less) to prevent clumping when you cook it. Fresh pasta cooks in 2 to 4 minutes, depending on the shape; always taste before you drain. Ravioli is done when it rises to the surface. All pasta needs plenty of water, between 4 and 6 quarts for every pound of pasta, and salt, at least 1 tablespoon. Giovanna Tornabene says that pasta water should taste like a broth, so she and Bastianich use sea salt, which is more flavorful. The water has to be at a rolling boil. I stir the pasta when I put it in, then cover the pot so the water can quickly return to a boil. Olive oil isn't needed to prevent sticking if you stir periodically. Fletcher likes to pair fresh strand pasta, such as fettuccine, with creamy vegetable sauces. Giovanna Tornabene prefers ragł (a meat-flavored tomato sauce). Keep the sauce simple for stuffed pasta (like a browned butter-sage sauce for that pumpkin ravioli) and when the pasta is particularly rich, like Bastianich's nine egg-yolk recipe. "Just some sliced truffles or grated cheese and it's done," she says. "It's a meal [in] itself." How to Get It
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