
Miss Lois learns linguini.
Tonight, Pete taught my niece Lois to make pasta from scratch, which they documented in pictures for Lois’s senior project. The pasta, prepared two different ways, was really delicious. A thinner dough went through the hand-cranked pasta machine and became spaghetti, which Pete simmered gently in a simple marinara made with fire-roasted tomatoes; a thicker dough was rolled out by hand with a wooden rolling pin into papardelle, which Pete tossed with leftover chicken, broccoli and a garlic-infused olive oil. Lois will do well with her presentation. Pete spent hours with her. We all talked about everything, and Pete is Our Hero. Hooray! Siobhan and I talked today:
Tata: My mother appeared at the kitchen door last night as we were making tortillas. She took home the plants I was plant-sitting and gave us an eggplant and a zucchini. While we were out there, I re-mounded the potatoes and eventually Mom left. Steve said, “I should go in. I’ve had a cast iron pan on the whole time.” I COULD HAVE KILLED HIM.
Siobhan: Wow. At least it wasn’t just the gas that he’d left on? Or, um…Teflon that was releasing toxins in to the air?
Tata: Anyway, later I called the renter’s insurance people and asked to double my policy, which surprisingly will only cost $4 more for the year.
I used to make pasta a lot, but now I can’t remember the recipe. I think it was two eggs for every cup of flour. Does that sound right? It was either that or two cups of flour for every egg. But one thing I do remember is that I used to remove half an egg’s worth of egg from the mixture and substitute an equal amount of light cream. I found it gave me a richer noodle. Too much cream and the flavor was just off.
When I started, I didn’t have a pasta roller, so I used to roll it out by hand, make a bat, and then cut it by hand. That was a lot more work. You are bringing back a lot of memories for me of when I used to do a lot more and careful cooking.
Yes, but now you have a pussycat who would love to halp you. Miss Cora won’t help, but she will halp! Everything tastes better when you’ve fought off your sous chef.
No fighting there. She’s very easily distracted by catnip toys.