A pasta poster by Gino Boccasile, 1901-1952.
Recipe below: Thai Basil Fettuccine with Pine Nut Condimento
Flavoring fresh pasta with herbs seems to me a poetic task. Years ago, when I cooked at Le Madri, I learned to make fazzoletti (handkerchief pasta) with whole herbs pressed into them, usually sage or flat leaf parsley. I was so proud of myself for turning out those graceful things. We’d drape them over fish stew, and what an alluring dish. After I left the restaurant, I dreamed of the translucent pasta sheets. They were wonderful, but their herb taste wasn’t strong. I surmised that that was because the herbs weren’t chopped, so they couldn’t let off their essence properly. They were more of a visual presence than a flavor one. I’m now trying to create an herb pasta with a flavor presence. I think the key is the chop (rough, not minced) and also the choice of herbs. Thai basil immediately came to mind. It has a peppery perfume that barrels through even the hottest Thai chilies. And I’ve got a huge pot of it growing in my herb garden.
Silky, suave, delicate, romantic. Those are words that come to mind when I think of fresh egg pasta. But rolling pasta in my tiny Manhattan kitchen is such a pain in the ass that making it takes on a veil of frustration. For starters, I have no counter space. I have to use my dining room table. I have a problem with flour messes, and pasta making throws the stuff all over the place. It feels out of control, not the Zen experience I always imagine. And the cats attacking everything.
However, I will report that after finally abandoning the traditional well method, I am now much happier making pasta. I resisted the change for years, out of duty to my ancient heritage, but now I mix the dough in a food processor and roll and cut it with my KitchenAid pasta attachment. Not particularly romantic, but it lets me ease into the process without getting all sweaty and miserable. In the right setting, it can now even be soothing.
Note: One thing I always have to remind myself of when I make pasta in a food processor is that I need to add less flour than I’d use for the traditional well method, since the food processor pulls it all in (no crumbly stuff remains on the side to discard). I’ve adjusted my usual recipe taking that into consideration.
Thai Basil Fettuccine with Pine Nut Condimento
I don’t generally like using word deconstructed about food, but here it happens to be the perfect adjective. I’ve taken all the elements of a classic Ligurian pesto and pulled them apart, using some for the pasta and some for the sauce.
(Makes about 1 pound of pasta, enough for 4 generous first-course servings)
For the food processor pasta:
2½ cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting
A big pinch of salt
A few grindings of black pepper
4 large eggs, lightly beaten
½ cup lightly chopped Thai basil
For the condimento:
Extra-virgin olive oil
Butter
Spring garlic
½ cup pine nuts
Salt
Black pepper
A big handful of very lightly chopped Thai basil
A chunk of grana Padano cheese
Put the flour, salt, and a little black pepper in the food processor bowl, and pulse a few times to blend everything. Add the eggs and the basil, and pulse until it all just forms a ball. If it’s not coming together, add a drizzle of water and pulse again.
Dump the pasta ball out onto a work surface, and knead it until the dough is smooth, about 5 minutes. It should be light green, flecked with green bits. I try not to use too much flour on the work surface, not wanting to add any more to the dough, as that can make it tough, but if your dough is sticky, you’ll definitely need a bit.
Cover the dough in plastic wrap, and let it rest, unrefrigerated, for about an hour. That will give the gluten time to relax, so it’s easier to roll out. Otherwise the dough can be too tight and fight back a little.
Roll it into sheets. I use the pasta attachment of my KitchenAid mixer, which works great, but use any method you like.
Now, and this I find to be a most important step, let your sheets dry for at least 10 minutes before cutting them into fettuccine or whatever ever you’re going to make of them. You want the sheets to be flexible but slightly leathery, not sticky. This can take, in my experience, anywhere up to an hour, depending on how wet your dough was to begin with and how much humidity you’ve got in the room. Drying is the only way I’ve been able to prevent pasta strands from sticking together, which is a most infuriating problem. This really takes care of it.
Then you can run the pasta through a fettuccine attachment or cut it by hand. Give everything a dusting of flour, and then lay it all out on sheet pans or a counter. It will be fine for several hours that way.
Put up a pot of pasta cooking water, add salt, and bring it to a boil.
In a large skillet, heat about 2 tablespoons of olive oil and 2 of butter. Get it warm over medium heat. Add the pine nuts, and let them color a bit. Add the garlic, and sauté a minute, just to release its flavor.
Drop in the fettuccine. It should take only a minute or so. When it is tender, drain it, saving about ½ cup of the cooking water.
Add the fettuccine to the skillet, and toss it quickly over low heat, seasoning it with salt and pepper. Pour it into a large serving bowl. Add a little of the cooking water to loosen the sauce. Add the basil and about 2 tablespoons of grana Padano. Toss gently, and serve right away.