Ancient Grains for Modern Meals - Maria Speck [93]
2 While the pasta is cooking, make the chestnut topping. Line a plate with paper towels. Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Add the sage leaves—they should sizzle when they hit the oil—and fry them until the sizzle subsides, about 1 minute. Using tongs or a spatula, transfer the leaves to the paper towel-lined plate. Decrease the heat to medium and stir in the chestnuts and hazelnuts (they may splatter!). Cook, stirring occasionally, until the nuts turn golden brown, 3 to 5 minutes. Decrease the heat if the nuts start to burn. Add the bread crumbs, garlic, and salt; cook until the garlic turns fragrant, about 1 minute. Remove from the heat and partially cover, if the pasta is not ready.
3 To finish, drain the pasta (but do not shake off the water), reserving ¾ cup of the cooking liquid. Return the pasta to the pot. Add a scant ½ cup of the cooking liquid and toss vigorously for 1 to 2 minutes; add more cooking liquid by the tablespoon until the pasta does not absorb more. Toss with the remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil and transfer the pasta to a large serving bowl. Spoon on the chestnut topping, sprinkle with the cheese, and garnish with the sage leaves. Serve at once with more Parmesan on the side, and drizzle with more olive oil at the table if you like.
RAVISHING FETTUCCINE
Why on earth waste your time making your own fresh pasta? Try it once—and you might never ask again. What Italians call pasta fresca is exquisite, even more so when using whole grain flours, which add sublime aroma and an enticing toothiness. Feeling and working a pasta dough is a deeply satisfying experience, and, most important: it is lots of fun.
Watch your kitchen (and yourself) get covered in flour. Get a workout kneading by hand. Feel the dough change texture, from stiff to malleable and, when ready, smooth and silky. Learn to master rolling out the dough and cutting it into wide strips. Admire the long slabs of paper-thin dough you succeed in rolling out, if not on the first try, maybe on the third or fourth. Marvel at the rustic, uneven pasta, hanging to dry on wooden broomsticks or spread out on large baking sheets. To me, this is the art of life.
It takes me straight back to kindergarten in a way—when you forget about everything around you and just play. And all of this fun before you have even started eating!
Oh, before I forget: Whole grain pasta bears little or no resemblance to regular white fresh pasta, which can be divine in its own right. Whether you use buckwheat, spelt, hard wheat, or even rye or other grains, this pasta will look rustic, and it will have a chewy texture.
If you are new to whole grains, I suggest you make your first pasta with whole spelt flour instead of the heartier whole wheat flour. Spelt is mild, delightfully so. Plus the dough is more malleable and easier to work with. I always use eggs and oil when making pasta with whole grain flours; these two ingredients, while optional when working with all-purpose flour, make for a more appealing and supple dough.
Ideally, you should roll out your dough on a large wooden work surface. I use an old-fashioned noodle board from Germany, with edges to lock it in place on top of my kitchen counter. The rough surface will imprint itself on the pasta, making it better able to carry the sauce. A typical pastry board, while smaller than my noodle board, should suffice. But any work surface will do. Another helpful tool: a bench scraper (see “Equipment”) to scrape and move sticky dough.
Kneading is the most enjoyable workout I know. It can be tiresome, but don’t despair. You can spread the kneading time out, and do it in two or even three installments. If I get tired, I take a short break, cover my dough with a turned-over bowl, and come back to it later. This rest is not only good for me, but also for the whole grain dough—it helps the bran to absorb any liquid, resulting in finer pasta.
I love working by hand