Document text
- Subscribe - Contact Us - Rate Card - Place an Ad Archives Revels Classifieds Real Estate Menu Guide Wedding Weather Subscribe Contact Us November 14, 2005 Tales From The Crib Fresh pasta makes it all taste better Jennifer Margulis In Italy this summer, our friend Maurizio showed us his Super 8 film of his mother cooking homemade pasta. Senora C. stands serious before the camera. Then the frame cuts to her pouring a neat pile of semolina and carefully mounding it. She makes a well in the middle of the mound, cracks two eggs into it, and beats them with the efficiency of a trained chef. Little by little the mound of flour mixes with the eggs. Then she adds some olive oil and a sprinkling of water. After a little kneading the result is beautiful yellow dough, which she covers with a towel to rest. We only meant to stay for coffee but Maurizio’s mother ended up making us a spectacular lunch of pasta alla chitarra and roasted chicken. Then his father was driving back to Pescara from L’Aquila and it would be such a shame not to see him so they invited us for dinner. No one in Italy eats dinner until after 8 p.m., so in the meantime I took the kids to Spiaggia del Riccio, a crowded beach on the Adriatic coast where the waves were as high as erupting volcanoes. We collected shells, and stood in the cool water, letting the sand run out from under our toes. It was after a dinner of salad, black olives, abruzzese sheep cheese and salamis that we saw the film. After the pasta rests, Senora C. rolls it in long sheets. Her hand cranks the dough though the machine quickly, and she sprinkles it with flour if it gets too tacky. Turn, turn, turn, and the dough is one long sheet. Eight times through and she switches to the cutting die. One last turn and from a sheet of dough emerges perfectly cut strands of fresh pasta. When we got back, I dusted off the pasta roller James had bought me years before. The only time I had tried to use it, the clamps that fasten it to the table kept slipping and they took off some of the counter. The pasta tasted like heavy glue. This time I was determined. My 6-year-old daughter Hesperus helped me make the dough, and she ran it through the roller like she had been born to make pasta. For about two weeks, we ate fresh whole grain pasta almost daily. I realized that it takes only five minutes to make the dough itself if I used a Cuisinart. Not as romantic as Senora C’s method, but more practical. The problem was Athena. Four years old, Athena refused to try the fresh pasta. “Let me smell it.” I held some under her nose. She gingerly put her tongue out to taste it then pulled her tongue back into her mouth as quickly as if it had been bitten by an iguana. “I don’t like it.” Athena made a sour face. “Yuck.” Then we tried making ravioli with whole grain pasta dough and a spinach ricotta filling. Athena helped James use the pastry wheel to cut out small squares. She fetched a fork from the drawer so she could crimp the edges. Bent over her culinary task with an expression of concentration on her face, Athena looked like a miniature of her father. “How about trying one raviolo?” James suggested when they were cooked. “No!” “Mmm,” Hesperus said. “These are yummy.” Every parenting book I’ve ever read says not to bribe children. Especially not with food. Especially not with sweets. “Athena,” I began. “I’ll make you a deal. You try one raviolo and you can have ice cream for dessert.” “As much as I want?” She looked at me suspiciously. “If you eat a whole entire one, you can have as much ice cream as you want.” “Pinky link.” We locked pinkies. Athena tried the raviolo. “I kind of like it and I kind of don’t,” she said. She ate it and asked for more. She ate them and asked for thirds. There’s a game we play in our family called the Question Game. I ask the girls things like “What five fruits would you pick for a fruit salad?” and “Would you rather be eaten by a Cyclops or stepped on by a giant?” “If you were stuck on a desert island and you could only eat one food, what would it be?” I asked them this time. Athena didn’t hesitate. “Raviolios!” she shouted. Maurizio’s mother would be proud. Jennifer Margulis hand cranks pasta dough from her home in Ashland. She is the author of a new book that has nothing to do with Italy or food called “Why Babies Do That.” Read more about her at www.toddlertruestories.com. Meet her in person at the Southern Oregon Author Fair on Nov. 20 at SOU. DailyTidings.com Home Page Archives | Revels | Classifieds | Real Estate Guide | Weather | Subscribe | Contact Us Copyright 2005 Ashland Daily Tidings and Ottaway Newspapers All Rights Reserved Deep Muscle Stimulator Ceramic Piggy Banks FREE Entertainment Guide Women's & Men's Slippers Accelerate Weightloss Products Backpacks Generic Viagra Vegas Travel Guide Search Engine Optimization Sportsbook Absinthe Supply Student Loans Hotel & Airline Reservations African Safari Hammocks Helzberg Diamonds Online Casinos Community Bonus Casino King of Spirits ink cartridges Mortgage Calculator Security Systems Mailing Lists Click Here Advertisement .:Advertisements:. Site Search: RESOURCES - Mail Tribune News - ODOT Road Cams