Nonna's Kitchen 1 - Fresh Egg Pasta

The Preamble:
I miss the food articles in the Journal. For as long as I can remember, I’ve consumed recipes in all formats, from cookbooks, foodie magazines, newspaper columns like the ones that used to run here, and more recently, from blogs and articles on the internet. In reality, I actually try just a tiny fraction of the recipes I read, but I’m fascinated by the way flavors combine, and I love to incorporate that into my own food world. I’m particularly fond of comfort foods from all cultures, and I think that’s what I do best – comfort food. I asked Jan if she’d be interested in printing stories and recipes from my family, and she was willing to give it a shot, so here we go!

First things first – clearly, “Vandeberg” is not an Italian name, so the title of the article might throw you. My father’s heritage is largely English and Dutch, but my mother’s family came from Italy, and if you’ve lived in Western Montana for long, you might actually know of them. My grandparents, Alfredo and Ann Cipolato – Nonno and Nonna to me – owned and operated the Broadway Market in Missoula from 1957 to 2004, when my grandfather decided at 93 years old that he was finally tired of working. The Cipolatos were (and still are) famous for having brought the tastes and ingredients of Italy to Western Montana; I still hear stories of folks who used to make regular pilgrimages from Whitefish, from Dillon, from Butte to Missoula just to go to the Broadway Market. Whether you wanted a special wine, Parmigano-Reggiano, real Prosciutto di Parma, or salty black olives scooped from the 50 gallon wooden barrel behind the deli counter, you could always find those things and just about any other ingredient necessary to complete your Italian feast.

So, that’s my pedigree. What’s my plan? I want to share recipes that are special to my family, and to try and keep things somewhat seasonal, so that the articles essentially track what we would be eating during the time of year that you’re reading. Like many cultures, Italian food is very regional, and there are probably as many different recipes for a dish like lasagna as there are ways to make a hamburger in the United States. My grandfather was born and raised in Venice, meaning that butter was more prevalent than olive oil, risotto and polenta were served more often than pasta, and fish was the primary protein source. My grandmother’s family came from San Marino, a principality in Italy near the Emilia Romagna region, so her cuisine consists more of egg pastas, meat sauces, beef, lamb and cured meats like Prosciutto. My cooking incorporates both of those, and adds a dash of Sicily and Calabria because of my love of all things hot and spicy. I certainly don’t claim what you read here will be definitive, just authentic to my family.

A few more things bear mentioning before the inaugural recipe. First of all, I almost never measure when I cook. I learned by rough amounts – a handful of breadcrumbs, a lump of butter, garlic and cheese to taste, etc. Next – I seldom add salt to my food. My father was a bit of a health fanatic in the 70s, so my taste buds are attuned to meals with little or no salt. I’m going to make every effort to give accurate measurements where necessary, but please understand that with my style of cooking, things are really quite flexible. If you find something to be a bit bland, by all means, season at the table and remember to add salt when you’re cooking next time. Add more or less garlic, throw in a few red pepper flakes, switch out basil for oregano, do whatever you like to tailor these dishes to your family’s palate. Realize that these recipes are intended as a framework, and often are basically a cooking style that can be changed in any number of ways to make a completely different dish. Finally, my grandmother raised five children while working in a grocery store that was open late into the evening, so the vast majority of these recipes aren’t fussy or difficult, except for some of the special holiday foods. Most things can be thrown together quickly, certainly within an hour, so that dinner can be ready in a hurry without coming from a box. Mangia, mangia, fatte grande! (Roughly: Eat, eat, grow big!)

The First Recipe:
Fresh Egg Pasta
Serves 4 as a first course

Fresh pasta has always been a huge treat in my family. The ingredients are simple, but the basic dough can be turned into everything from simple noodles like tagliatelle to complex filled pastas like ravioli, cappelletti and cannelloni. My mother still rolls out her pasta by hand on a wooden table with a rolling pin my father cut from a shovel handle shortly after they were married. The rolling is the real work, and it’s one of the reasons that we have always eaten much more dried pasta from a box than fresh. I can roll it by hand, but I never do anymore. A manual pasta machine works quite well, but I ponied up for the pasta roller attachment for my KitchenAid mixer a few years back, and my life hasn’t been the same ever since! Start to finish, fresh pasta in an hour!

Ingredients:
1 scant cup of unbleached white flour, plus extra for dusting
2 large eggs

That’s it! No salt, no oil, no semolina, no water. Every cookbook has a different recipe for egg pasta, and I’ve never tried them because this works, every time. Mound the flour onto a large wooden cutting board or directly onto your counter, and make a well in the middle. Crack the eggs into the well, break the yolks with a fork and then stir with the fork to slowly incorporate the flour into the eggs. If you’re careful and you don’t break the walls of the flour mound, this is a pretty neat process. When you’ve got a mostly cohesive mass, flour your hands and the work surface, then knead the dough, just like bread, for a minute or two, just until it’s smooth and homogenous. Cover the dough with a bowl and let it rest for 20-30 minutes so the glutens can form.

Cut off a piece of dough roughly the size of an egg, flatten to a disk and roll with a pasta machine, starting with the largest setting. After the first pass, fold the dough in half and pass it through again. Repeat six times – this helps the dough to develop elasticity and stay together when cooking -- then start reducing the thickness of the dough, one setting at a time. If your dough looks striated or cracked as is passes through the rollers, fold and pass through that setting again before proceeding. When you have the dough rolled to the desired thickness (I go to the smallest setting on my machine), use a sharp knife or a pizza cutter to cut the pasta sheet into strips roughly ½” wide, lay them out on a floured surface (a cookie sheet is fine) and move on to the next piece. Don’t worry about perfectly straight lines, ruffled edges or uneven pieces. It’s rustic, and it will all taste great!

When all the pasta is rolled, cook for 3-5 minutes in a large pot of salted, boiling water. Use at least an 8 quart pot with 5 quarts of water – pasta will stick together if the pot is too crowded. Bring the water to a rolling boil, toss in a tablespoon or two of kosher salt, then add the pasta, stirring gently to keep it from clumping. When the pasta is cooked to desired doneness (it will float when it’s done, and should be al dente – cooked through, but not soft) drain it and then toss immediately with your choice of sauce. DO NOT rinse the pasta with cold water, and please, don’t serve it in a mound with sauce poured on top. Both of these will give you a lump of sticky pasta that’s difficult to eat. There’s also no need to add olive oil to the cooking water or to the cooked pasta after draining – both will prevent the sauce from sticking to the pasta.

My favorite sauce recipe will come in a few weeks, but for this pasta, the easiest sauce is also by far my favorite. Throw a few tablespoons of butter into the cooking pot immediately after you drain the pasta so that the residual heat starts to melt it. Return the pasta to the pot, add a handful of chopped parsley and toss gently to coat. Salt and pepper to taste, then devour! Bon appetit!