An American let loose in an Italian kitchen. Allora!
Today I received a lesson in pasta making from the master. Rosanna is the chef of Alpenrose and night after night her kitchen produces the lightest gnocchi, pillow-like ravoli, and perfection ala spaghetti. I’m not sure she knew what she was in for when she enthusiastically agreed to take me under her wing and teach the basics of making tagliatelle.
The most humble ingredients – 10 uova (eggs,) 1 kg farina (flour), and a dash of rosemarino (rosemary) – produce the most sophisticated of tastes. In the right hands.
My hands are not those…yet. If pasta were a woman, Rosanna’s would be long, lean and graceful, a ballerina. Mine, would be her plumpy cousin; clumsy yet adorable.
I’ll get there with practice, I hope.
In the meantime, I sure enjoyed the process. Being in the kitchen, turning batches of dough into long ribbons of goodness, while everyone else worked on trays of lasagna and veggies for a big wedding party (125 people) tomorrow night.
And, of course, any lesson that results in enjoying the fruits of your labor is alright by me! Lunch was divine.