Make the Bread, Buy the Butter - Jennifer Reese [61]
With all due respect, I think Hazan is mistaken. Far from preferring homemade pasta, most Americans have never even tasted homemade pasta. I have cooked hundreds of pounds of store-bought pasta, and it is very convenient and very good, but to say Barilla spaghetti is no less glamorous and delicious than homemade pappardelle is like saying an Old Navy sweater is every bit as glamorous as a Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress.
Don’t make this if you’re in a hurry and don’t make it if you’re alone. It’s possible, but not advisable, at least for beginners. The last time I made pasta I called to Isabel, who was in her room doing homework, to come down because the strips of pasta were getting too long and I needed another set of hands. She came down, sighed heavily, and said, “Be sure you write in the recipe that you need two people.” And so I have. Also, you really need a machine. Some cookbooks will tell you that the wood grain in a rolling pin makes for a “pebbly” textured noodle that better holds the sauce. I tried hand-rolling pasta once and was so tired of all that rolling, rolling, rolling, that by the time we ate, many hours later, I almost wished Marco Polo had never gone to China.
Make it or buy it? Both.
Hassle: If you aren’t in the mood for a hassle, don’t make pasta.
Cost comparison: A cheap luxury. You can make a pound of pasta for a dollar. Dried pasta: between $1.00 and $3.00 per pound—or much more if you buy a premium imported Italian brand. Supermarket fresh egg fettuccine, such as Buitoni: $6.00 per pound.
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
1. Put the flour in a large bowl, make an indentation, and crack in the eggs. Drop in the egg yolks.
2. Beat in the eggs and yolks. Knead the dough until well combined, about 2 minutes. It will look lumpy and a little craggy. It should be dry to the touch, but there should be no visible flour—a dough that is too dry is harder to fix when you start rolling than a dough that is a bit too moist. If the dough looks too dry, add a few drops of water.
3. Roll out with a pasta machine, starting on the widest setting. If the dough tears, it is possibly too wet. Simply dust it with flour, fold it over itself, and start again. Roll twice at each setting before moving to a narrower setting. Cut as desired.
4. To cook, heat a pot of salted water to a rolling boil, drop in the pasta, and cook for about 2 minutes, until tender and silky. Drain.
Makes 14 ounces of pasta, to serve 4
PESTO
It’s curious that children like pesto, as pesto is intense green and garlicky—so clearly vegetable. And yet they like it. I don’t think I’ve met a child who didn’t.
One night we tested three supermarket pestos—Buitoni, Safeway Select, and the Monterey Pasta Company. I found them horrid, each in its own distinct way. The flavors of real pesto are strong and clean, but these were all murky. The ingredient lists suggest possible reasons why: cream powder (Monterey Pasta Company), sugar (Buitoni), reduced lactose whey (Buitoni).
Out of season, basil is pricey, but if you grow basil, or can buy it cheaply in the summer, make a lot of pesto and freeze it in jars. Pine nuts have recently been selling for upward of $30 per pound, which makes them more expensive than filet mignon. I made pesto with walnuts and tasted the end product side by side with pine nut pesto. The walnut pesto lacked a certain je ne sais quoi, but it was very, very subtle. If you don’t want to shell out for pine nuts, try walnuts or experiment with other nuts.
Once, a long time ago, my daughter, Isabel, and I went to a French restaurant and since they didn’t have chicken fingers, the only thing on the menu she wanted was pasta with pesto, which isn’t even French. This particular pesto was creamy and pale jade green and she loved it and told me she wanted me to make pesto like that. I don’t usually have crème fraîche in the house, but when I