Sam Gore is a regular writer on Russell Howard's Good News, and has appeared on The Tape Face Tapes, and FHM's Stand Up Heroes.
I’ll warn you in advance on this one – if you’ve
never made pasta before, set aside pretty much an entire afternoon for making
this dish. It is EPIC and you will need balls of steel. Oh, and if you don’t
have a pasta machine, set aside about three weeks and space for a mental
breakdown, because hand-rolling pasta is an absolute shitting nightmare that
will drive you insane. If you reckon you can roll it perfectly thin and evenly
then I salute you but I won’t be coming round for dinner because I expect being
able to do it makes you some kind of high-functioning autistic serial killer
who collects human teeth.
Making your own pasta is awesome. It’s a real pain
in the arse the first few times but the difference in quality more than makes
up for the extra effort. If you’ve got the kit and put in a bit of practice,
it’s well worth it and you’ll get faster at it. Once you’ve got the dough
right, you just run it through the rollers, clicking the machine down a notch
each time to make it thinner. Not only is this dead easy, but you can also
pretend it’s a clothes mangle and you’re a wartime evacuee. I’ve played around
with loads of different fillings and sauces for stuffed pasta and this one is
the dog’s bollocks (not literally, this isn’t ITV).
The rules with pasta dough are pretty simple. For
each 100g or so of flour you’ll need one egg and a splash of olive oil. By a
happy coincidence this also equates to about one person’s serving of pasta if
you’re cutting it into tagliatelli – for tortellini it goes a fair bit further
than that, provided you gather up all your cut-offs and run them back through
the machine.
Chorizo
& Rocket Tortellini (Serves 4)
For
the pasta:
300g high-quality OO flour
3 large eggs
Paprika
Olive oil
For
the filling
Two-thirds of one of those big horseshoes of chorizo,
roughly chopped
Tub of ricotta
100g packet of rocket leaves
1 red pepper, roughly chopped
1 red chilli, deseeded and chopped
2 tomatoes, roughly chopped
1 egg
Generous handful of grated parmesan
For
the sauce
The other third of the chorizo, cut into slices
5-6 sundried tomatoes, finely chopped
1 red chilli, deseeded and finely chopped
Tablespoon of tomato puree
Paprika
Half a metric tonne of butter (adjust according to
your own preference, but LOTS)
2 fresh tomatoes, finely chopped
Dried oregano
LET’S
GET CRACKING.
Start with the filling. Heat up a large saucepan
with a tiny bit of olive oil and add the chorizo. Cook for a few minutes until
the sausage has started to colour and the oils and spices are coming out, then
chuck in the red pepper, chilli and tomatoes. Cook until the pepper softens and
add the rocket. Stir until the rocket just wilts, then turn off the heat and
leave to cool for a bit. Have a cup of tea or touch yourself or something (wash
your hands once you’re done) and then transfer everything from the saucepan
into a food processor. Add the parmesan, egg and ricotta and a good pinch of
salt and pepper, then process until it’s all smooth. Transfer to a bowl and
stick it in the fridge to cool right down.
Now it’s time to sort the dough out. Measure out
your flour into a large bowl and make a dent in the middle of it with your
fingers. Then crack the eggs into the well along with a good slug of olive oil
and plenty of well-ground salt and pepper (big chunks when you’re rolling pasta
thin can make it tear). Add plenty of paprika – this doesn’t add much
flavour-wise, but makes the tortellini a funky orange colour which is perfect
for this dish and I’m all for that kind of artistic tomfoolery. Use a wooden spoon
to combine everything until it’s formed a fairly dry-looking dough that’s a bit
crumbly – as eggs are all slightly different sizes, add a little extra flour if
it seems too wet.
Flour the work surface and start kneading the dough.
At first it’ll tear a lot and come apart but the longer you do it, the less dry
it’ll seem, the more the colours will blend and it’ll start feeling more
elastic. Knead for at least ten minutes, until you’ve got a good springy ball
that’s uniform in colour and doesn’t feel wet to the touch. Wrap it tightly in
cling film to stop it drying out as you won’t be using it all at once.
Either get your pasta machine ready (clamp it to the
work surface and dust the rollers with flour) or get your rolling pin and your
insane mind prepped. Tear off a ball of dough and run it through the largest
setting, then fold the sheet back on itself and run it through again. Do this a
few times on the largest setting until your pasta is the right width, and then
start adjusting the machine and rolling it through once on each setting. Keep
flouring the sheet and work surface to stop the dough sticking. If the sheet’s
too long and getting all over the place you can also cut it in half and run
each piece through on their own. Keep doing this until you’ve got pasta rolled
down to the thinnest setting. Work in batches assembling the tortellini rather
than rolling all the pasta out at once, because you don’t want it to dry out.
Get two floured chopping boards ready; one for
assembling the tortellini and one for putting it once you’re all done. Using a
round pastry cutter (the bigger the cutter, the bigger the tortellini and the
less faffing about you’ll be doing, the size is up to you), cut out discs of
pasta and move to the assembly board. Get a mug of water ready and fetch your
filling from the fridge.
Using two teaspoons to keep your fingers clean and
dry, put a dollop of filling in the centre of each disc. How much depends on
how big your discs are but it’s surprisingly little – try it out until you get
it right, bearing in mind the disc has to fold over on itself and cover the
filling entirely with enough space left to seal up the pasta.
This is the absurdly fiddly bit. Pick up a disc and
keep it in the palm of one hand. Dip one finger of your other hand into the
water and run it round the whole edge of the disc. Now fold the pasta over the
filling to make a tiny Cornish pasty of deliciousness, gently rubbing out any
air pockets. If there’s air in the pasta when it goes into boil, it will
explode and EVERYONE IN YOUR HOUSE WILL DIE. Only joking! Only half the people
in your house will die. This isn’t a lie, because if after all this effort your
pasta just explodes in the saucepan because you haven’t got the air pockets
out, you will go on rage-fuelled killing spree out of sheer fucking
frustration. Once you’ve got your Cornish pasty shape, wet one of the flat
corners and poke the filling in the middle of the flat edge. Bend around that
dent and stick the two corners together. You should be left with a fully finished
little tortellini that looks a bit like a sailor’s hat. Put it onto your other
chopping board and cover with a tea towel to stop it drying out.
Repeat what will feel like a million times until you
have enough tortellini for however many ungrateful pricks you are feeding,
making sure you keep your assembly board dry and floured to prevent anything
sticking where you don’t want it to. Also make sure you gather up your leftover
bits of dough and combine them back together by rolling them through the largest
setting of the machine, folding and repeating until the pasta feels right
again.
Now you’ve got all your tortellini ready to go, get
a big saucepan of water on to boil, along with plenty of salt and a slug of
olive oil (this helps stop the tortellini sticking together in the water). Now
it’s sauce time, bitches!
The finished sauce should be good and chunky to
provide some texture, with the flavoured butter coating the tortellini to keep
it suitably tasty and non-claggy. First of all melt your butter in a frying
pan, then add the chorizo and again heat until the spices and oils start coming
out. Add some extra paprika and the tomatoes, oregano, sundried
tomatoes, chilli and tomato puree. Cook on a medium heat until the fresh
tomatoes have pretty much disintegrated, then keep warm on a low heat while you
cook the tortellini.
With your water on a rolling boil, tip in all the
tortellini at once, giving it a quick stir to stop it sticking together. It
should sink to the bottom at first so also move it around to stop it sticking
to the bottom of the pan and coming apart. Cooking fresh pasta shouldn’t take
long at all – 3 or 4 minutes once the water’s returned to the boil, or until
the tortellini rises to the top. Drain the pasta well, tip into the frying pan
of sauce, toss to coat it all and then serve in bowls with plenty of parmesan
and black pepper. Oh, and don’t forget to BASK IN THE ADMIRATION OF YOUR PEERS.
Sorry about the rubbish pic, I am useless at taking
them.
@samgorecomedian