Don’t ever let it be said that I don’t have an incredible sense of humor. Thankfully, my husband’s sense of humor is even greater than mine.
This is the homemade ravioli that I made for our 3 year anniversary:
This is the first time that I’ve attempted completely homemade – all from scratch – stuffed pasta.
I made the dough and even the ricotta from scratch. I’ve done both before, but never the two together.
Now first of all, I used my favorite all-purpose flour for this, which is King Arthur’s Unbleached White Whole Wheat Flour. I don’t think that was the problem, though it could have been. It’s whole wheat, so it’s a denser flour than plain white. I feel like I’m used to working with it though, so therefore I refuse to blame this catastrophic dinner on King Arthur.
Secondly, I rolled the pasta sheets way, way too thin. Can you see my beautiful filling through the pasta? Yeah, that’s not a good idea, at least when it’s going to sit for a few hours before cooking. The pasta became very, very moist, even with the obvious use of flour before refrigeration.
Thirdly, and maybe most importantly, I was in a hurry and under self-induced extreme pressure. I took off work at noon and went by the grocery store for a fresh loaf of French bread and dessert. (Give me a break here on the store bought dessert – I made homemade pasta. Sheesh.
Then the game plan was: I had approximately 4 hours to make the pasta, let it rest, roll it into sheets, brush it with an egg wash, make the ricotta filling, plop spoonfuls of fresh ricotta cheese filling onto it, cut it out, crimp the edges and repeat 50 times. (maybe I exaggerate a tad)
Then I had to make the salad.
Then I had to pick, slice and bread the eggplant that I’d picked from our garden because I thought “what if the ravioli doesn’t turn out and we’re starving to death on our anniversary?”
Then I had to do a bunch of dishes.
Then I had to do my hair and makeup.
Then I had to put on a very, very little black number with heels.
Then I had to look relaxed when my husband walked in the front door.
Thank God for red wine.
And a husband who loves me to no end.
By the time I got to the actual pasta cooking, the dough of the ravioli had mostly stuck to the wax paper it was sitting on. Pulling each one up simply tore the very, very thin – and now damp – dough, and it was not a pretty site. I think we were able to salvage about 15 ravioli, which to my credit, were delicious. The filling was delicious and the pasta was so tender, it was amazing.
The eggplant and salad weren’t bad either.
We still sat in our newly-elegant dining room, with the new chandelier and candles burning, and enjoyed our dinner and each other. We laughed and we remembered why we love each other, which I’m pretty sure is the point of celebrating your anniversary.
And for the record, I don’t think the very, very little black number I was wearing hurt either.