Why I could never give up carbs…
Robby and I were lucky to grab some of these memories. I still mean to create a post that outlines some of these objects of my memories which have now become objects in my home. For today, I will concentrate on one.
The pasta maker.
Anyone with a nice Kitchen Aid mixed can purchase an attachment that will allow them to make pasta. Grandma has the skills and the tools to make it the old way. We spent some time over Christmas with her going through the process that she followed when she made pasta for her family, something she learned from her mother and grandmother. She told stories of times where the tools were not necessary – her mother and grandmother discussing the thickness of the noodles, agreeing on width and using their knives to make perfectly uniform noodles. They would create gnocchi with their thumbs and ravioli with the tines of a fork. Neither would fall apart in a pot of boiling water. My mother (the daughter-in-law) has had a hard time learning these skills. Grandma always tells her – well you use this and that and don’t worry about the amount – you’ll just know.
This is the part of our history that we are at risk of loosing – the “you’ll just know”. Especially when it comes to cooking. Grandma “just knows” because she has absorbed the old ways from her mother and grandmother. My mother and I have not had the daily exposure to this atmosphere. We know what we know from her. With this, and my grandmother’s declining health, in mind my mother encouraged her to sit down with us during our Christmas Holiday and share the family way for making Pasta. It was a fabulous idea and, as with many exchanges with elderly family members, turned out to be so much more than a lesson in pasta making.
I have discussed my Grandmother and all that she is to me before. I adore her and know that there is some connection between her and I that is far beyond a normal granddaughter/grandmother relationship. I am fully aware of how strange this sounds but it’s just the way is.
On to the pasta…
You need flower, about 3/4 cup per person.
We had about six people eating so we used about 4.5 cups of flour. Make a little hole in your mound of white and place 3 eggs into this. Grandma says you should always crack your eggs into another bowl because if they are bad you would want to know that before you ruin the flour (Grandma was a child of the depression. It makes no difference what-so-ever that the ruined flour would cost all of $0.50. Trust me, I pointed this out and got an ear full)
Using a folk (and not a wire whisk, again with the earful) slowly mix the eggs into the flour. You will need a bit of water set aside. After the eggs are mixed in add a little ittle ttle tle le e bit of water. Just enough to barely get everything damp.
This is the part of the recipe that you just have to “know” and honestly, I never would have “known” had I not had grandma (above with her coffee) guiding me. “No too much.” “Oh, Okay, a bit more.” You need just enough water to get it mixed…but not too much to make it sticky.
You can see here how crumbly the dough is…not to worry, you’re going to kneed the shit out of it and it’ll be Perfecto (insert Italian gesture here.) My mom (in the blue shirt) was super excited to be able to use her silpat. It made everything so much easier.
See the texture above? The dough should become really smooth, no bumps and very elastic-like. Kneading is not for the knitter. It hurts your wrists. If you can, get your sister to do it. Mine, unfortunately, was the group scribe. Robby, incidentally, was the group photographer.
At this point the dough must rest. We let it rest in a cover bowl at room temperature all day. You can skip this step if you’d like. We needed to run some errands, get a super cool massage, and take a shower (notice the change of cloths below?)
If you look real closely at the picture above you can probably see my ass-crack. Kidding! You cannot!! But, you can see my chubs…hi chubbies…love you…
This is what’s going on in that picture: I’m rolling small pieces of dough out and my sister is putting them through the pasta maker. We have the flattening rolls attached here. My sister rigged up a board to help mount the maker to the table. Yes, the apples do not far from the tree (more on that later.) There is a lot of flour involved in all of these next few steps. Just keep adding until you can get through it all without stickiness.
You may have to send it through the press multiple times. This was another one of those “Grandma tells you when to stop” things. She said that you could make it as thick as you wanted. She was super good at judging the thickness without looking. I swear it must be in your blood. You just know.
After the dough is pressed I used a knife to cut down the center of the strip. This prepared the stripes for the cutting attachment. The cutting attachment rocks.
Look at all of the little spaghetti monsters. They were pretty good uncooked.
Here is Grandma helping me with the little monsters. The head lamp came in handy here.
The tree on the left and the apple on the right. My dad. I always wondered where the family trait of fixing things came from. The trait of having them “just right”. The certain way to do things. Well, if I hadn’t realized it before, I realized it during this family event. Grandma and my dad – two peas in a pod. They are exactly the same.
It was awesome.
And the pasta – well….you boil it. That’s the next step. Use lots of water. Grandma says you should not have to rinse the pasta when it is done. I think that this may be true if you pay attention to the lots of water instruction. We did not. And there was a lot of starch. I think this could be avoided with a larger pot (or rinsing, which I hate.)
Olympic Update – Still no decision on the project. I’m taking tomorrow afternoon off, so hopefully I’ll have something by Doyle’s. Team Boston – Doyles 7pm be there or be square.
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