And you don’t even need a machine! (besides your miiiiiiiiieeeeend)
The other morning I was flipping through an old magazine in one of those teensy, stale claustrophobic waiting rooms, purple half-gown draped over my shoulders before proceeding to get my chee chees flattened to crepes, (<–life of a 40-year old) when I noticed a torn page with the simple, direct heading, “PASTA IS JUST FLOUR AND EGG. THE END, ALREADY.” Or something like that.
“Omg, that’s TRUE!,” I thought to myself. Probably most definitely out loud.
Why don’t I make fresh pasta more often?
It’s because the thought of it is like, completely daunting. You have that awkward metal machine thingy with the wonky handles that flattens the pasta (much like my chee chees) out suuuuper super thin. But the strands get so annoyingly long that you end up running out of counter space, and there’s no place to hang the pasta for drying, unless you have one of those wooden drying racks. But where do you store that thing when you’re not making pasta? With the pasta machine? No because I have zero room for that either. And by now my pasta strands are sticking together, laughing in my face and flipping me off. Aaaaand mental calamity ensues.
UNTIL NOW. (dun dun duuuuuun!)
I played around with a few measurement variations, until I got it just right. And it’s this:
One cup of flour + 1 pinch of coarse salt + 1 beaten egg + 3 Tbs. water. This is it.
Let me say that again – THAT’S AWL, Y’ALL.
It’s basically enough for two dinner plates. Small batch! Also known as, not completely overwhelming.
You’ll just make a well in the center of the flour, then pour the beaten egg in the middle. Then, before it runs out onto your counter, just sort of mix it all together with your fingers, adding the water 1 Tbs. at a time. Three worked perfectly for me, but if you need a little bit more, just add a few drops. By now you’re kneading the dough, so keep working it for maybe five minutes. Let it rest in a covered bowl for maybe 30 minutes. An hour if you have it! It does something scientific like, allow the gluten to chill out and relax and meditate with incense or something.
Then I divided the dough in half, and started rolling rolling rolling (on the river) with my pin. Keep rolling!
Roll some more. Get it as thiiiiiin as you can. Then take a pizza cutter and cut little strands. These will plump up a little bit while cooking, so srlsy, make those strands skinny. Or if you like a flatter, wider pasta, experiment with that! It’s all about what you want at this point in your life. You’re still a good person.
Also, if you have toddlers helping with you with the process (which you should! it’s semi-fun.), have wine as backup. This only saves yourself.
Drop the strands in salted boiling water for like, two minutes, toss with your favorite sauce, aaaaand…
T H A T.
Are you freaking out yet? Because I might have. Don’t ask Aaron though, because he definitely won’t remember how loud my voice was.
You can use any sauce you dig. I took a simple can of San Marzano tomatoes, whizzed them in a food processor and simmered with a tiny bit of garlic, salt and basil. But go big if you want! Or go home. Actually just go home. Since you’re already there.
Feel free to play around with it, too, by adding dried or fresh herbs to the pasta. Or spinach. Or even roasted garlic! Oh my face.
And then let me know how it turns out because you know I need this in my life.
NO MACHINE. Huzzah!
No chee chees were harmed in the making of this fresh pasta.