First, mortify your own flesh by taking old, dry, store-bought lasagna noodles and flagellating yourself.
Now I, the Marquis de Sade, will instruct you in the truly painful path of making fresh ravioli with your own blistered fingers.
Prepare to burn, penitant.
Day One:
1. Watch the Diners Drive-ins and Dives episode showing the Catelli Restaurant in Geyserville, California.
2. Watch as the owner effortlessly makes fresh ravioli from scratch SEVERAL TIMES A DAY. Watch as she cuts each ravioli with a cute, little ravioli cutter.
3. Decide that this sounds like FUN.
4. Stick your wet finger into an electrical outlet while biting down on a popsicle stick and lobotomize yourself. Because if you believe this bunch of hooey, you are clinically stupid and do not deserve whatever brain cells you have left.
Day Two:
1. Buy the ingredients to make the incredible-sounding Catelli filling:
a. Pork Butt
b. Large chunk of beef
c. Whole chicken, because my store had no "boneless chicken breasts WITH SKIN ON"
d. Bag of onions
e. Bag of celery
f. Head of Swiss Chard
g. Shitaki mushrooms
2. Shop for a hand-held ravioli cutter. You’ve seen them, right? Well, let me show you just how foolish you are if you believe ravioli cutters are out there among us. Here are several places where you WILL NOT find a ravioli cutter:
a. Bed, Bath, and Beyond
b. Publix
c. Walmart
d. Target
e. Bealls
f. Belks
g. Marshalls
h. Steinmart
i. Habitat for Humanity thrift shop
j. Good Will thrift shop
k. Cor Meth thrift shop
3. Make the pork sausage base, which—of course—needs to marinate in the frig for TWO days, mocking my desire to move this along. Grind one pound of pork with that Kitchen Aide sausage attachment and add a slurry of stuff (guesstimations):
a. Chardonnay
b. Fresh peppercorns
c. Red Pepper flakes
d. Fresh Italian parsley
e. Fennel seed
f. Fresh Thyme
g. Roasted head of garlic
h. Fresh nutmeg
i. Salt/Pepper
4. Make fresh ricotta with organic milk and heavy cream. Have questioning spiritual doubts as to whether this was such a good idea. Pork & dairy? Dairy & pork? Make note to speak to the Inquisition's Holy Office Tribunal regarding this ecclesiastic dilemma.
5. A plague on the homemade ricotta as it spoils for some reason. Go back to the store and buy a container of whole milk ricotta.
Day Three:
1. Realize with a sudden acid drop of the stomach that this entire recipe is being recalled from memory. And an abysmally poor one at that.
2. Spend a ridiculous amount of time on the Internet trying to find this particular Triple D episode because (a) I don’t want to mess up this recipe (read: waste expensive ingredients) and (b) I obviously have no other life.
3. Realize that even though Guy Fieri PROMISES that you can go online and get “all these recipes” HE LIES! Liar, Liar, pants of fire. You’ll get your own spanking some day, Mr. Fieri! The Marquis promises that!
4. Ha! Found the episode. Drat! It's not showing until midnight, for the love of whips! Coerce Husband to record the episode with the promise of home-made ravioli to rival Grandma F’s...a merciless woman who took her wine & rabbit recipe to the grave with her. The same woman whom my husband claims “made the best ravioli ever tasted.” EVER? What kind of statement is that to tell your wife? I mean, even if said wife has (admittedly) never made fresh ravioli herself...there's still no reason to throw down that kind of culinary gauntlet. I’m working against a FOOD MEMORY, for the love of a rusty Iron Maiden! What chance do I stand against that???
Day Four:
1. Watch DD&D recording and realize that NO, the ricotta DOES NOT GO IN this recipe.
2. Decide that, really, I don’t give a damn. Ricotta is made, ricotta is bought and ricotta is going in. Stick THAT up your….
3. On a large cookie tray, distribute one pound of cut-up beef chunks and one boneless chicken breast (WITH SKIN ON!) cut into chunks. Break the pork sausage into chunks and drizzle olive oil over the whole shebang. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, fresh parsley, MORE GARLIC and bake 450 degrees for 30-40 minutes.
4. On another cookie tray, add 2 large diced onions and 4 stalks of diced celery. Cut up an entire head of Swiss Chard. Add MORE GARLIC. Drizzle with olive oil, salt and pepper and roast 450 for 40 minutes because I am nothing if not a pandering fool.
5. When roasted, get out the KA sausage thingee again and grind it all up together. That’s right…get out the HUGE 16” diameter bowl and grind it all together: the roasted meats, the roasted vegetables, then add a month’s mortgage worth of freshly grated parmesan, freshly grated pecorino romano, ricotta (because, screw it, I DON”T CARE that the Catelli’s don’t put ricotta in theirs), cubed and toasted fresh Italian bread, and 2 eggs (because that’s all I could see before Guy The Man got in front of the camera. Floggings will be administered!) Season with fresh thyme, rosemary basil, sage, parsley, salt & pepper.
6. Reinforce the refrigerator shelf with a 2-by-4 and put the bowl in to chill overnight.
Day Five (also known as The Final Hours of my Sanity):
1. Decide not to make the Catelli ravioli dough recipe because their version uses a dozen eggs and I retain a smidgen of self-respect. (Note: I actually paused the recording and counted the yolks. See what I mean: No life. What-So-Ever.)
2. Research Michael Chiarelli recipes online because anyone with a last name like that should have a good ravioli recipe, right?? WRONG! The first recipe I selected used wonton wrappers!. And so did his next recipe!! What the flaggelating noodle is this man thinking?? The next recipe said “purchase fresh ravioli dough from your local Italian deli.” What!! Quick, someone strip this man of his Italianness-ness and bring out the strappado (see Spanish Inquisition).
3. Dig out the Atlas pasta roller and check their book for a recipe. THEY DON’T HAVE ONE FOR RAVIOLI!! Just thought you should know.
4. Finally locate a ravioli recipe that sounds grandma authentic. It calls for semolina flour and--of course--I have no semolina flour. What else would you expect by now. Get back in the car and drive to the store…which does not have semolina flour. Have this store call their other store 15 miles away only to be told they also don’t have semolina. Realize the woman making the call has NO IDEA what semolina is. Realize I know an entire selection of swear words I didn’t know I knew.
5. Drive home, open freezer and find a ziplock bag of semolina in the freezer. Get down on my knees and praise somebody.
6. Make and roll out the first portion of dough, fill and then press a fork around EVERY SINGLE EDGE OF EVERY SINGLE RAVIOLI. See, this is why I needed the fru-fru ravioli cutter. Make 1.5 dozen and finally recruit Husband to fork (I so want to write something else here) the edges while I roll & fill the dough.
7. Test-cook one for 3 minutes. Just a bit off, so we test another one at 3.5 minutes. Perfect! We test a larger one. It’s very doughy. Husband cooks another one for 30 second more and eats it. Still doughy. Continue this for SEVEN more ravioli taste-tests, going up to 12 minutes. WHAT’S WRONG???
8. Oh crap. I looked at the finished ravioli and noticed that the filling was transparent in some (top tray) and opaque in others (bottom tray).
http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g166/Finer_Kitchens/Marilyn_CakeBalls/005.jpg
9. OH CRAP! I wasn’t consistent in my Atlas rolling. The 3.5 minute ravioli were rolled to a #6 thickness, while the “12 minute and still doughy” were a single batch rolled to a #5 thickness. HOW CAN ONE NUMBER MAKE THIS MUCH OF A DIFFERENCE? Someday I’ll pay a severe penance for the things I said that day.
10. I carefully separated the "good" #6 ravioli from the "bad" #5 ravioli and froze them, ending up with 6 dozen ravioli. After F.I.V.E days.
I could have donated a kidney in less time.
http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g166/Finer_Kitchens/Marilyn_CakeBalls/003-1.jpg
11. Asked Husband if he still wanted them for dinner after testing all the "bad" ravioli. The look on his face was nothing short of pitiful.
Day Six (also known as my Autos-da-fé):
For those who do not read Wiki, an autos-da-fé is the final punishment for an impenitent heretic.
That would be me.
I made a quick sauce of olive oil, fresh garlic, parsley and basil and a large can of Muir crushed tomatoes. When that had cooked down, I added a cup of heavy cream and some grated cheese. I got out the good ravioli, cooked & sauced them. Over the meal, I glanced at my husband, the man I loved and shared a PPO health plan with, the man “with the best ravioli in the world” grandmother.
And what did I hear?
“It’s good.”
It's ...good??? The look on my face must have captured my reaction because he immediately added several more adjectives to that phrase and ended with “Grandma F would have been proud of you.”
I swear. When I meet her in Hell, I’m taking that old woman down.
Now I, the Marquis de Sade, will instruct you in the truly painful path of making fresh ravioli with your own blistered fingers.
Prepare to burn, penitant.
Day One:
1. Watch the Diners Drive-ins and Dives episode showing the Catelli Restaurant in Geyserville, California.
2. Watch as the owner effortlessly makes fresh ravioli from scratch SEVERAL TIMES A DAY. Watch as she cuts each ravioli with a cute, little ravioli cutter.
3. Decide that this sounds like FUN.
4. Stick your wet finger into an electrical outlet while biting down on a popsicle stick and lobotomize yourself. Because if you believe this bunch of hooey, you are clinically stupid and do not deserve whatever brain cells you have left.
Day Two:
1. Buy the ingredients to make the incredible-sounding Catelli filling:
a. Pork Butt
b. Large chunk of beef
c. Whole chicken, because my store had no "boneless chicken breasts WITH SKIN ON"
d. Bag of onions
e. Bag of celery
f. Head of Swiss Chard
g. Shitaki mushrooms
2. Shop for a hand-held ravioli cutter. You’ve seen them, right? Well, let me show you just how foolish you are if you believe ravioli cutters are out there among us. Here are several places where you WILL NOT find a ravioli cutter:
a. Bed, Bath, and Beyond
b. Publix
c. Walmart
d. Target
e. Bealls
f. Belks
g. Marshalls
h. Steinmart
i. Habitat for Humanity thrift shop
j. Good Will thrift shop
k. Cor Meth thrift shop
3. Make the pork sausage base, which—of course—needs to marinate in the frig for TWO days, mocking my desire to move this along. Grind one pound of pork with that Kitchen Aide sausage attachment and add a slurry of stuff (guesstimations):
a. Chardonnay
b. Fresh peppercorns
c. Red Pepper flakes
d. Fresh Italian parsley
e. Fennel seed
f. Fresh Thyme
g. Roasted head of garlic
h. Fresh nutmeg
i. Salt/Pepper
4. Make fresh ricotta with organic milk and heavy cream. Have questioning spiritual doubts as to whether this was such a good idea. Pork & dairy? Dairy & pork? Make note to speak to the Inquisition's Holy Office Tribunal regarding this ecclesiastic dilemma.
5. A plague on the homemade ricotta as it spoils for some reason. Go back to the store and buy a container of whole milk ricotta.
Day Three:
1. Realize with a sudden acid drop of the stomach that this entire recipe is being recalled from memory. And an abysmally poor one at that.
2. Spend a ridiculous amount of time on the Internet trying to find this particular Triple D episode because (a) I don’t want to mess up this recipe (read: waste expensive ingredients) and (b) I obviously have no other life.
3. Realize that even though Guy Fieri PROMISES that you can go online and get “all these recipes” HE LIES! Liar, Liar, pants of fire. You’ll get your own spanking some day, Mr. Fieri! The Marquis promises that!
4. Ha! Found the episode. Drat! It's not showing until midnight, for the love of whips! Coerce Husband to record the episode with the promise of home-made ravioli to rival Grandma F’s...a merciless woman who took her wine & rabbit recipe to the grave with her. The same woman whom my husband claims “made the best ravioli ever tasted.” EVER? What kind of statement is that to tell your wife? I mean, even if said wife has (admittedly) never made fresh ravioli herself...there's still no reason to throw down that kind of culinary gauntlet. I’m working against a FOOD MEMORY, for the love of a rusty Iron Maiden! What chance do I stand against that???
Day Four:
1. Watch DD&D recording and realize that NO, the ricotta DOES NOT GO IN this recipe.
2. Decide that, really, I don’t give a damn. Ricotta is made, ricotta is bought and ricotta is going in. Stick THAT up your….
3. On a large cookie tray, distribute one pound of cut-up beef chunks and one boneless chicken breast (WITH SKIN ON!) cut into chunks. Break the pork sausage into chunks and drizzle olive oil over the whole shebang. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, fresh parsley, MORE GARLIC and bake 450 degrees for 30-40 minutes.
4. On another cookie tray, add 2 large diced onions and 4 stalks of diced celery. Cut up an entire head of Swiss Chard. Add MORE GARLIC. Drizzle with olive oil, salt and pepper and roast 450 for 40 minutes because I am nothing if not a pandering fool.
5. When roasted, get out the KA sausage thingee again and grind it all up together. That’s right…get out the HUGE 16” diameter bowl and grind it all together: the roasted meats, the roasted vegetables, then add a month’s mortgage worth of freshly grated parmesan, freshly grated pecorino romano, ricotta (because, screw it, I DON”T CARE that the Catelli’s don’t put ricotta in theirs), cubed and toasted fresh Italian bread, and 2 eggs (because that’s all I could see before Guy The Man got in front of the camera. Floggings will be administered!) Season with fresh thyme, rosemary basil, sage, parsley, salt & pepper.
6. Reinforce the refrigerator shelf with a 2-by-4 and put the bowl in to chill overnight.
Day Five (also known as The Final Hours of my Sanity):
1. Decide not to make the Catelli ravioli dough recipe because their version uses a dozen eggs and I retain a smidgen of self-respect. (Note: I actually paused the recording and counted the yolks. See what I mean: No life. What-So-Ever.)
2. Research Michael Chiarelli recipes online because anyone with a last name like that should have a good ravioli recipe, right?? WRONG! The first recipe I selected used wonton wrappers!. And so did his next recipe!! What the flaggelating noodle is this man thinking?? The next recipe said “purchase fresh ravioli dough from your local Italian deli.” What!! Quick, someone strip this man of his Italianness-ness and bring out the strappado (see Spanish Inquisition).
3. Dig out the Atlas pasta roller and check their book for a recipe. THEY DON’T HAVE ONE FOR RAVIOLI!! Just thought you should know.
4. Finally locate a ravioli recipe that sounds grandma authentic. It calls for semolina flour and--of course--I have no semolina flour. What else would you expect by now. Get back in the car and drive to the store…which does not have semolina flour. Have this store call their other store 15 miles away only to be told they also don’t have semolina. Realize the woman making the call has NO IDEA what semolina is. Realize I know an entire selection of swear words I didn’t know I knew.
5. Drive home, open freezer and find a ziplock bag of semolina in the freezer. Get down on my knees and praise somebody.
6. Make and roll out the first portion of dough, fill and then press a fork around EVERY SINGLE EDGE OF EVERY SINGLE RAVIOLI. See, this is why I needed the fru-fru ravioli cutter. Make 1.5 dozen and finally recruit Husband to fork (I so want to write something else here) the edges while I roll & fill the dough.
7. Test-cook one for 3 minutes. Just a bit off, so we test another one at 3.5 minutes. Perfect! We test a larger one. It’s very doughy. Husband cooks another one for 30 second more and eats it. Still doughy. Continue this for SEVEN more ravioli taste-tests, going up to 12 minutes. WHAT’S WRONG???
8. Oh crap. I looked at the finished ravioli and noticed that the filling was transparent in some (top tray) and opaque in others (bottom tray).
http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g166/Finer_Kitchens/Marilyn_CakeBalls/005.jpg
9. OH CRAP! I wasn’t consistent in my Atlas rolling. The 3.5 minute ravioli were rolled to a #6 thickness, while the “12 minute and still doughy” were a single batch rolled to a #5 thickness. HOW CAN ONE NUMBER MAKE THIS MUCH OF A DIFFERENCE? Someday I’ll pay a severe penance for the things I said that day.
10. I carefully separated the "good" #6 ravioli from the "bad" #5 ravioli and froze them, ending up with 6 dozen ravioli. After F.I.V.E days.
I could have donated a kidney in less time.
http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g166/Finer_Kitchens/Marilyn_CakeBalls/003-1.jpg
11. Asked Husband if he still wanted them for dinner after testing all the "bad" ravioli. The look on his face was nothing short of pitiful.
Day Six (also known as my Autos-da-fé):
For those who do not read Wiki, an autos-da-fé is the final punishment for an impenitent heretic.
That would be me.
I made a quick sauce of olive oil, fresh garlic, parsley and basil and a large can of Muir crushed tomatoes. When that had cooked down, I added a cup of heavy cream and some grated cheese. I got out the good ravioli, cooked & sauced them. Over the meal, I glanced at my husband, the man I loved and shared a PPO health plan with, the man “with the best ravioli in the world” grandmother.
And what did I hear?
“It’s good.”
It's ...good??? The look on my face must have captured my reaction because he immediately added several more adjectives to that phrase and ended with “Grandma F would have been proud of you.”
I swear. When I meet her in Hell, I’m taking that old woman down.