princess reggiano (holiday raviolis part 2)

My kid definately takes after me in the application of parmesan. I remember as a kid putting a layer of it on anything allowed. It was the same with romano. Minestrone got three applications if the portion was prodigious and the bowl it was served in was deep enough. Layer one would be applied, and the "skin" that formed on contact with the hot soup would be devoured while still gooey. Layer two would be applied, and if you obliterated the first quickly enough the soup would still be hot enough to melt this. If the bowl was deep enough, and this was often the case if you managed to melt the previous two layers of cheese, you could throw on a third layer, warm it sufficiently to release the sheepy goodness of the cheese and snarf that down too. And then came seconds, because despite the cost of the cheese, the soup is cheap to make (today it is a mere $20 for 8 quarts, WITH great ingredients).



What can I say? My broccoli would be equally obscured from recognition if this was my plate as a kid. When I saw the monkey had "sprinkled a little" of the reggiano on her raviolis, enabling them to look like moguls near a collection of dwarfed firs, I recognized the gene and took the picture. This was our second serving of ravioli from this batch and it was on x-mas night that I served this.

With the subject of this post being concealed from view, the suspense must be killing you. Shall we get on with it and construct some ravs for that there sauce from the other day?

Day two began with making a dough and letting it rest. Then I mixed the filling and let it rest. While they rested, I went to the store. Even though I was making ravs, there is no rest during the cookie season that had started. (Just kidding, more like your mouth gets no rest incessantly grazing on broken pieces and "rejects" that had been around for a few days already.) The hour before dinner I removed the ingredients from the fridge and got down to work.

The filling consisted of spinach sauteed in olive oil that had been infused with sage earlier. To this I added fresh parsley, oregano and rosemary, salt and pepper, heated briefly and then set aside to cool. The ricotta mixed well with this, and I used a few eggs to finish the bonding process. This acts as a nice paste for spreading and is difficult to stand over without salivating on it. With this in place, I turn 180 degrees, take a step, and roll out number 2. With the top sheet in place it is time for the best part: using the pin.

After placement of the second sheet, you simply roll the pin while applying a consistent downward pressure, from front to back, that is if there is just the right thickness of filling, and you have accounted for the inevitable squishing forward that occurs. After a little practice you can easily roll out some 60 or so "survivors" with each attempt. Which to me makes alot more sense than the prevailing mold and stamp technique.

It is a genovese style of making raviolis, and involves a piece of kitchen equipment that few here know about. Like the folks who SELL THEM. When I purchased my latest model a few years ago, I initially made a request for a "ravioli rolling-pin." The sales clerk said "a what?" and brought me to the section of the store containing "anything that could be considered a rolling-pin." When we arrived, I spotted the pin, picked it up, and began admiring it while daydreaming of ravs. The clerk said "oh, that's what that is." He pointed to the chef behind a nearby counter and mentioned that she actually did the ordering for them. I approached and asked if they could order a larger sized one and she thought about it and said no. Then she admitted that she may order them but doesn't know how they work. Am I really in Dean and Deluca? In Napa County? It just shows to go you that often times knowledge resides in tradition, not corporations. I gave her a brief description of process and walked out happy, that having given away my last pin as a gift, I now had a replacement. And amused, very amused, when it dawned on me that you can school folks in food, as I'm sure a fair portion of the staff was, but food is a great big wide world, and I have some knowledge here and there that is definately handed down. I love the niche I occupy in my family tradition of pasta and with this batch, the monkey supplied some downward force, becoming the fourth generation to see the way of the pin since the knowledge left "the old country" along side much more.


Thank you Nana C. And Grandma. I think of you two often. Three cheers for raviolis! Now how is that for a christmas colored meal? It even snowed in Oakland this year!

beef and porcini tomato sauce (holiday raviolis part 1)

I love christmas. I love the excuse to make decadant things, you know stuff that takes FOREVER to make or involves multiple days and layers of creation to arrive at mouth bliss. Raviolis definately qualify for satisfying these criteria, and prior to the cookie crunch of last week I managed to take two days creating a new version of them. Three cheers to the reason for the season!

Day one involved a ton of stuff. It started with a run to the local market that houses our new source of good beef. When I discovered that Baron's of Alameda was now in Star Grocery, within about a mile of my house, I thought "Marin Sun available in the hood, I just gotta make ravs!" Grandma's version calls for at least two different types of meat to be included in the ravioli (chicken, pork, veal, usually the first and last but I just can't do it), and beef in the sauce. I thought about it a while and concluded that I would venture into new territory by sticking to some form of fresh cheese with herbs in the filling this time. The sauce would remain beef, being as though I've been feeling good about supporting Marin Sun Farms, and didn't want to stray too far from what I've made in the past.

The butcher gave me some bones from a prime rib to start my stock. I roasted these in the oven for a darker stock (but in retrospect should have started off with more bones). After these were done, I put the veggies in the pot to saute a bit, then added the bones, boiling water, and my own little bouquet garni (I've been wanting to say that one for a while now). This concoction was boiled together for about five hours, strained, and then reduced in volume by half.

With the stock complete it was time to start the red sauce. The beef chunks get sauteed in olive oil with garlic cloves after being dredged in flour seasoned with salt and pepper. While this happens, the dried porcini need to be soaked in the stock. I chop the dried shrooms somewhat finely and add to a few cups of hot stock. When the beef reaches a nice dark brown, the bowl of soaked porcini and stock gets dumped in with the beef. Cover and turn this way down to a slight simmer and allow to cook until the beef is starting to fall apart. This usually takes at least two hours and gives plenty of time for the rest of the vegetable ingredients to be put into a large pot (8 quart) and boiled together to make a nice red sauce.

With the beef all tender and the red sauce ready, I married the two so they could cook together for at least another hour while I made some ricotta. I started with using a half gallon of whole Straus and two cups of Berkeley buttermilk, heating together over a medium high burner. Stirring the mixture until it reaches somewhere around 140-150 degrees (I no longer check it with a thermometer, but it seems to be steaming nicely at this point) I stop, and begin scraping the bottom of the pot gently, trying to stir it as little as possible in order to free the curds that form without breaking them. These will float to the top and the milk will look like it has cottage cheese floating in it. When the milk gets to the high 170's it will suddenly separate into easily distinguishable curds and whey. There is no mistaking it. One moment you have milk with lumps, the next you have water and cheese curds. At this point the ricotta is done.

Remove the pot from the stove and using a ladle, begin pouring the whey through the cheesecloth lining a strainer. It is not critical, but saving the whey by having another bowl under the strainer will enable you to use this nutritious by-product for something else, like watering some plants, as they apparently like the stuff. With most of the whey removed from the pot, start gently ladling the curds into the strainer. When complete gather the edges of the cloth into a knot and tie around something which it can hang from (the kitchen faucet is handy) and let it drip. After a half hour or so, depending on ambient conditions, the ricotta should be ready for your recipe.


At the very least, the cheese should be ready to sample. But with so much sauce cooling on the counter, and spaghetti in the cupboard, I just had to try out the combo to gain some sort of perspective on how they should come together the next day. After this bowl I was thinking ricotta, spinach and parsley with sage ravioli. Yeah, that's the ticket. Yeah.......and that, would be part 2.