Friday, January 8, 2010

Ravioli with Tomato Sauce

A few days ago, CBY and I made ravioli, making it up as we went, of course. I wanted to make it again yesterday, but unsurprisingly, CBY wanted something different. We made, among other things, stuffed mushrooms, using a very similar filling to the filling we'd used for the ravioli. I snagged a bit, and tonight, I'm recreating! But taking the time to write down what I'm doing.

Confession: I did use a recipe for the pasta. I'm not nearly that good. The recipe I used to use was in the Joy of Cooking, but it has eggs, and I didn't want to mess around with substitutions. A quick google search for "vegan fresh pasta recipe" turned up this. It worked well, so I'm using it again. It allows for quite a bit of variation in ingredients and method, but the ingredients I used are as follows:

1 2/3 cups flour
1/2 cup soy flour
1/2 t salt
2/3 cup water
1 T olive oil

The directions were pretty standard, and I used a food processor to speed it up. Mix the dry ingredients, then add the water and oil with the processor running. When the dough forms a lovely sticky ball, take it out and let it rest in a plastic bag for ten minutes.

Meanwhile, I got the tomato sauce started. Boil some water, add the tomatoes, let them cook for about thirty seconds, then plunge them into ice water to stop the cooking. When they're cold, pierce the skin and watch in amazement as it falls right off. This was especially fun with my brand new ceramic paring knife. A few basil leaves and cloves of garlic also had the privilege to be sliced and diced by that elegant white blade. Heat some olive oil in a pan, add the garlic, cook for a minute or so, then toss in the tomato and basil. Cover and try not to forget about it.

The problem we had with the ravioli last time was that the pasta was way too thin. I had remembered reading that you should roll it out as thin as possible, but forgot that ravioli should be thicker. This time, I made six sheets instead of eight, and it seemed to work well. I absolutely adore my ravioli press; it works beautifully. I rolled out each sheet until it fit the press, laid it on top of it, filled it with about a tablespoonful of filling, and laid another sheet on top of it. A few swipes with the rolling pin, and I had twelve plump gorgeous ravioli ready to go. I don't remember exactly what was in the filling, but I do remember it had tofu, basil, tomatoes, and artichoke hearts.

Once they were all ready, I boiled some water, and added ten, enough for me for tonight. One important thing with ravioli is to make sure that the water isn't actually boiling, just simmering, so the ravioli don't come open. They took a surprisingly short time until they were all floating and "pillowy," the word that always seems to come up when describing finished ravioli.

Against my own advice, I did forget about the sauce. By the time I remembered, it wasn't ruined, but I had to add more water and oil than I would have liked. Regardless, it looked great with the ravioli.

Review: Overall, it was a decent meal. Nothing was perfect, but nothing was bad, either. The weakest element was the sauce. The flavor was too strong, and overwhelmed the ravioli. The ravioli itself wasn't bad at all, and would have been better if it was just with olive oil or something. Good thing I have thirty or so left in the freezer. The only problem was that the pasta was very slightly too thick. So. 6/10.

One other realization: If the pasta is too tough to roll out, let it rest for a while. That's especially important with the scraps of dough, which have already been rolled out a couple times. If you try to roll them out right away, you'll never get it thin enough, so just go away for a while.

Friday, December 11, 2009

18, and Finally Taking This Cooking Thing Seriously

My life has always been about food. Every part of it somehow revolves around something you can put in your mouth. "Remember Young Frankenstein? We watched it a few years ago, you, your dad and I." Oh yeah, we had fettucini alfredo that night. I wanted to put artichoke hearts in, which were delicious, but then dad ruined it with zucchini. Or that time at the Grand Canyon, when we were finding shapes in clouds. What did I see? Ice cream, hot dogs, you get the idea. As a kid, I even managed to rewire my brain so that words taste like food. (Lexical-Gustatory Synesthesia, for the curious.)

My mom likes to brag that I've been cooking for myself since I was three. Granted, it was only microwaved oatmeal at the time, but my repertoire expanded, slowly but surely. A family friend, Martha Leche, gave me the Joy of Cooking for my First Communion. It was love at first sight. Actually, I think it kind of scared me at first, but I ended up using it so much that I had to buy a new one a few years ago since it was falling apart so badly. I think the moment I realized I could actually cook anything I wanted to was a few days before my ninth birthday, when I told my mom I wanted turkey lasagna for my birthday dinner. The kind we had usually bought, Michaelangelo's, had been discontinued. "Okay, then make it yourself," was her response. I can't do that! Thankfully, she had more faith in me than I did. She found me a recipe, bought the ingredients, and set me loose in the kitchen.

-To be continued...-