There’s something about cooking that makes everyone appreciate their ability to make something. It’s ironic that we have been in architecture school for four years now, spent countless hours building intricate models and we are amazed to produce a pile of ravioli.
We watched Anna Rita whip up a simple dough from eggs and flour and tried to do the same. For a group of people who are supposed to be adept with exacto knives, the fork is taken with unreasonable hesitation. Once the dough was finished we rolled it through the pasta roller. Our nutty appreciation for craft really shined here because it was nothing short of satisfying to roll out a smooth, thin piece of pasta dough. My pasta took a little patience to roll out; I was making a gluten free dough, which tends to crumble, but we managed to piece it together. Then we spooned a ricotta cheese and spinach filling on the dough. We even used a little ravioli cutter to crimp and cut the raviolis into squares. When the filling ran out, we used the leftover dough to make fettuccine noodles. It was so quick and easy, just eggs and flour and presto! Homemade pasta!
As one can imagine, the best part about the cooking nights is eating the food. Even if our concoctions had been sub-par (although I don’t think Anna Rita could lead us astray), we would still have fun eating the food. The tables are arranged in a long line and bowls of pasta and ravioli cascade out of the kitchen. It’s a big rowdy family, complete with the peanut gallery at the end yelling to not eat all the food and wine before it gets to them (of course I participated in this). I think by the end of the night everyone had eaten the equivalent of three plates of pasta, each topped with a different homemade sauce. There was chocolate and apple cake for dessert served with wine in plastic cups. I’m surprised fahoo fores, dahoo dores isn’t Italian, it seems so fitting.