Tom Douglas

Pasta by Jessica Prince, Dahlia Lounge Private Dining Coordinator

I have become addicted to my own pasta.  I’m frugal, curious, and I love spending all day in my kitchen, so it was inevitable.

I’ve always thought pasta was too heavy and filling, or soft and bland.  I’ve steered clear of it, but a trip to Italy tipped off an interest in durum wheat and semolina flour, because it is purported to make the best pasta, and the pasta in Italy simply seduced me.

I read up, and, though my inner Benjamin Franklin blanched, started paying a lot more for the imported, all-durum linguini that come shaped like little birds’ nests and found in specialty stores.

It was good.  Mmmm. I could never go back to the pasta I had grown up eating.

I was intrigued by the rough surface of these Italian pastas.  They held sauce better and had texture without weight.  Why was that?  I had to make it myself to find out.

Plus, there’s something fascinating to me about making something that consists of only a couple ingredients.  Technique comes to the fore and flavors cannot hide.  You can’t do anything  but make it , over and over again, until you start to feel like you know it inside out.

Pasta is semolina flour and egg.  No need to add water.  You mix enough flour with the egg until it’s just right.  How do you know when it’s just right?  At first you don’t, but after a few times you do, and it’s like love, or instinct, or anything else you just know.  There’s something satisfying in that.  Making good food, it becomes delicious before you even begin to eat.

For success you must knead the dough as long as you would for bread, at least fifteen minutes.  Err on the wet side because it will seem much drier once the gluten develops.  A pasta rolling machine is key, and the rough surface comes from micro tears which form when the dough is stretched.  Buy semolina in bulk at Big John’s PFI if you’re thrifty like me.  To make a lot, invest in a cheap laundry drying rack at the hardware store, then zip-lock bag it to keep in the cupboard for a few months.  Or make just enough for dinner and boil it fresh in 30 seconds.

If you read this article by Michael Pollan in the New York Times magazine, maybe you’ll be inspired, like I was, to rediscover the pure joy that can come from the process of cooking.  Eschew shortcuts and channel your inner Julia!

August 10th, 2009