This weekend, I attempted to make pasta from scratch.  I resolved to do so at the beginning of 2011, and have been plotting this culinary adventure for the last few weeks, diligently reading and re-reading the pages of a book about pasta making I bought months ago.

Saturday, I bought all the necessary ingredients: “00” flour from the local deli; prosciutto, pecorino and pear for the ravioli filling.  And on Sunday, Steve & I had a cooking date day and big plans for the kitchen.  First up, pasta-making.

I love fresh pasta and it seemed simple enough – make a well of flour, insert 3 eggs and a tbsp of salt, incorporate flour into egg mixture until sticky dough is formed, knead. (so says my book)

In my first attempt, I broke the well. Raw eggs EVERYWHERE! Steve encouraged me to try again.

In my second attempt, I gingerly incorporated the flour grain by grain.  I stirred, ever so gently, the liquid mixture to thicken it with the tipo “00” flour.  A tiny crack in my well formed, but with various stents I managed to avoid the gooey-eggs-running-down-workbench fiasco that ended my first attempt.

I kneaded the dough, pushing and pulling, and yearning for the “elastic and soft” texture my efforts were supposed to yield.  I kneaded some more.  And more…. But try as I did, my dough was neither soft nor elastic. No, it was more dry, rough, and concrete-like. 

I sighed, and stuck a fork in it.

I made a stiff cocktail to ease the pain of my pasta-making failure from supplies on hand (Bombay, fresh pressed granny smith apple juice, lemon juice (around the rim) and a splash of dry red muscato in the bottom).  Umm, yum!  Like a bitter and savory Long Island Ice Tea (without the 12-liquor induced headache afterwards.)

Then I whipped up a tasty white bean dip, and enjoyed a snack with my adult beverage.

Fortified, I dug into dessert.  I had bought 12 pints of strawberries at the market.  

(what?  it was $10.  how could I resist?)

When life hands you a box of strawberries, you must make cake.

We were so stuffed, we decided to scrap dinner (lamb rack) and call it a night.  Pasta FAIL.  Fun cooking date day, SUCCESS!!

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