Cooking Pasta Part III - Hands-on Tagliatelle

This is the final post on my Pasta Making adventures. It's funny how the sequence of events was actually backwards but I guess sometimes it's cool to see the end before the beginning so, here it goes...

Tiziana had mentioned that her “baby” was a tuna lasagna. Yup, she’s so proud of making this one up! I was dying to try it out as it sounded so unusual. I asked her to bring me one of those the next time we met for yoga which would be on a Thursday. She had asked me to give her a call the day before to remind her.

OK, so it’s Wednesday and I had a midday interview with a new prospect for my English communication business. It so happened that my interview was not too far from Lasagna e Via so, I gave Tiz a call suggesting that I could actually swing by and pick up the lasagna. I made it there, dressed to impress while Pat, Tiz, and Lola (one of their employees) were busy making dough for the pasta. My eyes lit up.

Unlike last time, it was around noon and the place was hopping with customers picking up their phoned-in orders. In case I forgot to mention, Lasagna e Via is a take-out only business.

So, dangling an apron with one hand and pouring me a glass of white wine with the other, Tiziana asked if I wanted to get my hands dirty and learn to make pasta. I quickly responded “for sure!”
So, this time, as if going backwards, I was to learn how to mix the ingredients to make the dough. The process involved mixing flour and egg in a food processor. Since all eggs are not made equal, I was to use my judgment in determining if the dough was moist enough before kneading. So we kept some water in a cup nearby.

Pat instructed me to mix 300gm of flour (using a cup measure) with 3 whole eggs. I was to mix it up in the processor and then decide if additional moisture was needed. After that, I was to spread the mix on the counter and proceed to knead it out until it had a tight but soft-to-the-touch consistency. Once the ball of dough is good, we quickly store it in a plastic bag to conserve moisture. At this point, the dough can be frozen for later use. I had no idea it was this simple!


I went through several rounds of this process. I found it extremely relaxing. The kneading was a very nice stretching exercise for my writs. Pat and Lola would occasionally stop by my station to supervise, naturally, trying to abide by their quality standards and to give tried and true tips for preparing "beautiful" dough.

Once I made like 10 balls of dough, I could learn how to make tagliatelle, the short, flat spaghetti. But first, I needed to learn even more basics! Pat asked me if I’d like to make the dough from scratch without using the food processor. “Bring it on!” I thought. So, now she taught me how to make a volcano with the flour on top of the counter and then add the eggs in the middle. Then mix and knead by hand. To ensure I had the right level of moisture, I was to either add water or add a little flour. Fun stuff, indeed! I felt like a little kid with play-dough.


With all the dough ready, it was time to make pasta! Pat *strongly* suggested not using the pasta machine at all and instead roll it out using just the pin. I was up to the challenge!

Pat taught me how to do it mostly to show me the appropriate thickness for tagliatelle. By now, I was remembering an incredible dish I once had in Venice of tagliatelle with fresh crab meet, garlic and olive oil. Ahh, the possibilities when you make your own pasta!

Working and talking, I finally told them the story of the Dominican Lasagna in New York. They just chuckled as they went about their tasks.

I made several sheets of pasta, getting them ready for cutting them into the tagliatelle. We used a special pasta cutting knife (see photo) and Pat taught me, several times (I was slow on this one), how to first roll up the pasta sheet like a tube and then use the knife to cut the roll into segments of the desired width for my pasta. Pat explained to me how in old Italy, the job of being the pasta cutter was very, very important. I can see that. “What do you mean there’s no fresh pasta today?” A brief panic rushed over me.

Each segment of the rolled, already cut pasta is gently unbundled with the fingers. The end result looks like a small bird’s nest. Once unbundled, we placed each nest in a tray lined with a cloth napkin and then we covered them with another cloth napkin. Unlike ravioli, the tagliatelle needs to dry out a bit before cooking, so these guys were going to sit in the tray for a while.

As payment for my work, Pat sent me home with a *small* care package including:

• some of the pasta I just made
• bolognese sauce to-go
• frozen dough for making empanadas at home
• an assortment of fresh-out-of-the-oven empanadas (eggplant, homemade sausage, and kale with cheese)
• and of course, the tuna lasagna that I originally came for.

On the way out, Pat revealed that that the “crack” in the empanada dough are tiny bits of homemade sausage and fresh oregano.

On the ride back home the car smelled of something wonderful. I’m weak. I couldn’t wait to get home, literally…I reached for the empanadas and snarfed two of the down. I drove home happily and ready for a nap after all my hard work.

In the evening, I boiled my tagliatelle for 4 minutes and mixed it with the bolognese sauce. It was heavenly. The next evening, I tried the tuna lasagna and it was wonderful! It had a Mexican twist as the sauce had chilli peppers.

And, yes, the new prospect hired me!

Cooking Pasta Part II - Adventures in Ravioli Making

It was one of the loveliest evenings since I can remember. The specialness of this one laid in its spontaneity.

But first, a little background:

Tiziana was one of the first, and certainly most eager students who came to my yoga classes here in GDL. After class, one day, we started talking about our mutual love for food. She seemed more excited and excitable than your average GDL resident. She casually blurted out that she had been born in Bologna, Italy and came to Mexico as a young child. For work, she runs a lasagna shop with her sister Patricia.

“Lasagna, you said?” I asked and without waiting for an answer I bragged about my lasagna. We both got so excited to have this other thing in common. We agreed to exchange lasagnas. It was understood that hers was artesanal and mine was rustic.

At the start of the next yoga class, lasagnas were exchanged with relentless giddiness. I went home ate mine and loved it! Tiz explained that the pasta was made from scratch at her shop. I lamented how much I missed good Italian food since moving to GDL. Whining, I confessed my desire to learn to how to make ravioli.

“Easy!” She exclaimed. “How about you come over to the shop and my sister and I will make it happen.” I nodded with excitement. Then she added “Oh, we like to drink red wine while cooking. Is that OK with you?” By now I was ready to hug this woman and declare her my new best friend.

And so, the night came. It was a Thursday night. I like to go out on Thursday nights because of its unpretentious way of almost being the weekend. The air was festive already. The shop was small and beautifully appointed -- efficient, with clean lines, gorgeous white roses in a couple of places, and the smell of deliciousness was unquestionably the most important guest this evening.

Tiz and Patricia were hosting and two of their friends joined: Tere, a happy, energetic woman, who brought the white roses and was ready to crack some jokes, and Lorena a warm woman of wise words, thoughtful questions, and a good record as a world traveler. So, on to the business at hand: Ravioli making! I mean, look at my face in the pictures. Do I not look just so excited? Sometimes, it amazes me how little it takes to get me to this state. I like this sort of high.

Patricia was full of charm and ready to “teach” me. She handed me an official "Lasagna e Via" apron. She really meant business. Her patience and methodology told me: she’s done this a lot of times so I was eager to be learned. Oh, and don’t mess with her!

The dough had been made and ready to be rolled out. Pat kindly offered to teach me how to mix the dough but in the interest of time, we continued with what we had. First, we mixed the very simple filling:

1 tbsp of parsley
2 cups of Requesón (the Mexican version of Ricotta)
1 egg yolk
Salt and pepper to taste

Next, she introduced me to the process of prepping the dough before using the pasta machine so, she instructed me to massage it out a bit and then use the rolling pin to make the starting, albeit thick, sheet of pasta. fter that, the pasta making machine came out and I was taught to put the dough through, starting at the highest setting, cranking the handle, and continuing the process, lowering the setting until the pasta was thin enough for ravioli. We were to make two long sheets of pasta. As soon as you’re done with the first sheet, you cover it so that it doesn’t lose moisture.

For the last sheet, Tiz taught me how to stick a parsley leaf and put it through the machine and see how the leaf becomes big and thin; it looked like a cool tattoo.

Now, we’re ready to put the ravioli together. By now, wine’s been guzzled down. With everyone abuzz, the room was getting warm thanks to the laughter, my hard, happy work, and for the big pot of boiling water for the pasta to cook.

I laid out one of sheets in front of me, cut it in half, and then trimmed around the edges to make them into rectangles of the same size. One half-sheet stays on the counter and we spoon the cheese filling in little gobs leaving enough space to comfortably sew the ravioli together. This is a good time to decide on the size of each ravioli. Will it be ravioli, raviolini, or raviolocho? The one with the parsley tattoo will have to be a raviolocho.

With the bottom half-sheet all set with the filling, we evenly set the second half-sheet on top and iron out any pockects of air with our fingers. Then we use the special pasta cutter to cut while sewing the edges off leaving the familiar ridges all around.

We set the ravioli on a tray lined with a cloth napkin and then covered them with another cloth napkin. We try to minimize exposure to the air. With the water boiling, and ravioli ready, we throw them in to cook for no more than 3 minutes. By now, Tiziana was busy making the sauce:

2 cups of butter
2 tbsp chopped sage

With the ravioli out, Tiz tossed them in the butter sauce. She had already made a caeser’s salad. We sat down to eat, another bottle of wine was as necessary as the next gasp of air after so much laughter. We accompanied the pasta and salad with sausage bread as well as sausage empanadas all previously made on-site and by hand. Can you feel the love?

With food in tummy, head abuzz, and an air of teamwork satisfaction, we all agree to do this again. Like a dinner club.

Since this is an Italian feast, there has got to be a simple dessert and a memorable after dinner drink. Tiz had made poached pears with raspberry sauce. Patricia surprised us with home-made mandarin limoncello – she called it mandaretto. I called it “OH MY GOD!” That’s all I can say for now.

Check out the slide show (click on the photo to see the title, hover toward to the top to get the previous and next buttons):



I went home with care packages, a bunch of white roses, a big smile on my face, the anticipation of learning more about making pasta and perhaps meeting the ladies for a mid-day Campari sometime soon.

On the ride home, I marveled at finding Italy in Mexico -- I would’ve never imagined it. I love peculiar coincidences like these; it fed my spirit and my tummy. What else can I ask for on this fine day?

A few weeks have gone by and when I see Tiziana, a little bit of the world reveals itself to me through her mediterranean spark . Pat will forever be my pasta making teacher. She already holds a prominent place along with all my other spiritual teachers.