Cockney Butchers, Tuscan Nonas, & The Canadian Wilderness: Inspirations for a Sunday Pasta Dinner

Pasta tastes like home. Humble, honest and unable to be rushed, hand rolled pasta is a labour of love meant to bring people together around the table to converse and pass the time. Few can deny the pleasures of the meticulously formed shapes that are subtly resistant to chewing, glistening in an emulsion of butter and cheese or a hearty, slowly simmered Ragu. Edible history, hand rolled pasta is a representation of a time and place in the world and the gestures and recipes that are handed down through generations. It’s something that satisfies us innately as human beings, evoking romantic images of an apron-clad Nona somewhere in Tuscany. Inside her kitchen, the walls are adorned with family photos faded by the afternoon sun and homages to Lord and Saviour, Gésu Cristo. She stands hunched over a simple wooden table blanketed with a dusting of semolina flour, a rolling pin fashioned from a broom handle, and perfectly shaped pasta covered delicately with an old linen bed sheet.

I learned to make pasta in Ontario, Canada on a wooden bench in the pastry section of a newly built private members club nestled in the woodlands of cottage country in Muskoka. Fresh out of my first year of culinary school I spent my first of 5 summers here as an apprentice, testing out my new-found skills in a live restaurant environment. Admittedly less romantic than the European motherland, I’d discovered a setting where local terroir was celebrated with a similar respect. It remains one of the cooking experiences that’s had the most influential impact on my relationship with food, where I learned first-hand about the importance of quality ingredients and the skills necessary to transform them into something remarkable.

“For me, the perfect Sunday is spent at home, working quality products from local markets into something truly special...my Sunday meals at home are the purest expression of everything I have come to know about cooking.”

On the pass at Oviinbyrd

The menu at the club changed weekly to remain connected to the seasons, and we rotated positions in the kitchen every month. We baked fresh bread daily using our own natural starter and had a greenhouse and garden where we farmed a wide variety of vegetables, micro greens and lettuces. We cut down oak logs and inoculated them with spores to start our own shiitake mushroom farm 100m from the kitchen’s back door. Winters were spent tapping trees to make maple syrup and learning to make chocolates. There was the woodfired grill and oven where we would fire pizzas or slow cook Porchetta over the crackling flames. Whole pigs would arrive through the back door and we would respectfully break them down into their most delicious parts and grind, cure, smoke and salt nose to tail into delicate charcuterie. All very eye-opening for a chef whose CV until this point included Chinese takeaway, a greasy spoon, and the seafood restaurant in the local mall.

Chef Bryan showing off our selection of homemade Charcuterie

In an environment where “from scratch” cooking was the only way we knew, pasta savoir faire was something that was celebrated in our kitchen and featured prominently on menus. Matt and Bryan who led the brigade of curiously inexperienced chefs each summer developed their passion for hand rolled pasta during trips to Italy in the off-season. Highlights included seasonal pasta dishes like scallop, pea & lemon filled agnolotti or pappardelle with pork Sugo, radicchio & balsamic vinegar. The entremetier would roll pasta under Chef’s guise just before the first table would take their seats to deliver the most fresh and authentic pasta experience possible.

Low and slow. The more love you show the ingredients, the more love they will offer in return.

“...I take my time to put love into the food which is something you can actually taste in the final result. You can tell when something has been “smashed out” of a kitchen; made without passion, care, or respect for the ingredients”

Pasta is so simple in essence, requiring only a few ingredients to make, but the quality of ingredients and technique employed are what separate mediocre product from art form. Pasta making is a very sensory experience that relies heavily on feel to achieve the desired result. Eggs should be from pastured chickens with rich, orange yolks. Salt from the sea, and oil from sun-drenched olives. Typo 00 Flour is the most highly revered flour for making pasta dough. Its high gluten content enables you to develop an intricate network of protein strands while working the dough against the table. It has the ability to become elastic which gives your pasta its characteristic bite and chew.

Pici dough in the making

Having spent much of last week on my bike around London catching up with friends and focusing on new professional ventures, I decided to give my anxiety the day off and spend the day making dinner. For me, the perfect Sunday is spent at home, working quality products from local markets into something truly special. Tunes blasting and a bottle of wine open, I take my time to put the love into the food which is something you can actually taste in the final result. You can tell when something has been “smashed out” of a kitchen; made without passion, care, or respect for the ingredients. My Sunday meals at home are the purest expression of everything I have come to know about cooking.  

Tooting market is somewhere you can count on if you’re in the market for Arepas, a healing crystal, vintage records, a new scent of Oud, and pigs trotters all in the same place. It is an accurate representation of the vibrant melting pot that is the borough of Tooting; the last bastion of cultural diversity in a rapidly gentrifying South London. My husband Scott and I grab an Arepa packed with spicy pulled chicken, tomato and spring onion and eat it sat on the curb outside before beginning our search for ingredients.  

I start chatting with the butcher who is a short, wiry chap with a cockney accent and crooked grin. He hops up on the counter with his knees to extend joints of meat outward for me to inspect.  His passion for engaging in conversation and quality meat are remarkable. We lose focus on the display case momentarily as stories of traveling the world are exchanged, and I learn the neighbourhood butcher comes from a massive family and enjoys more than a few drinks when on an airplane. Refocused on our evening meal, I settle on a pack of 4 well-marbled pork shoulder steaks and end up leaving with a second in the promise of a “cracking deal”. Nobody ever complained of having too much leftover pork Ragu.

Veg is almost always purchased now at the Istanbul Food Gate. Since we’ve been back from our travels I’ve decided to make an effort to use the supermarket as a last-ditch effort for groceries only, and spend a bit more time perusing the high street to support local small business. The produce here at the Istanbul always looks stunning, laid out in all its glory on a sidewalk stand to entice passers-by. We gather everything we need and head for home to start filling the flat with amazing smells.

Mise en place. One of the first terms you learn in the professional kitchen, meaning “everything in its place”. Very important to spend the time prepping your ingredients and reading the recipe from start to finish before the cooking begins.

Pici is my favourite pasta to make and its heartiness was deemed appropriate given the quintessential British mid-June nip in the air, and images of Pici Cacio e Pepe all over Instagram at the moment. The noodles are a kind of noodle/dumpling hybrid that are chunky, rustic, imperfect and just darn lovely. Before topping with pork Ragu I made sure the Pici were swimming in an emulsified sauce of pasta cooking water, a bit too much butter, microplaned parmesan, black pepper and chopped sage. It would have been amazing like this all on its own. A couple of ladles of Ragu over top and game over! This recipe takes a good 5-6 hours to make and should feed 6 people. That said we rolled more pasta after the first plate was done and went straight for round 2 to wash down with the last of the Barbera.

Hand Rolled Pici with “no waste” Pork Ragu & Sage

Serves 4-6

Wine Pairing: 2018 Barbera D’Alba

FOR THE PICI

400g Strong white bread/pasta flour (Tipo 00)

½ tsp salt

2 tbsp olive oil

190 ml warm water

FOR THE “NO WASTE” PORK RAGU & SAGE

1.5kg pork shoulder steaks, boneless

2 small onions

2 medium carrots

2 pointed red peppers (romano)

5 fresh birds eye chillies

10 cloves garlic

2 tbsp dry oregano

½ bunch sage

2 tbsp chopped rosemary

Salt & Pepper

2 tins chopped tomatoes

1lt chicken stock

250ml red cooking wine, something cheaper but nice to sip

Neutral oil for frying (grapeseed, veg)

3 pointed red (Romano) peppers

150g butter

100g parmesan (75g grated, 25g peeled strips)

“Using bones, trimmings, and stalks to infuse the chicken stock is a great way to avoid waste while building flavour”

THE METHOD:

Find a good playlist or album to put on.

Make sure the kitchen is clean, dishes are done and surfaces are sanitised.

Hopefully you didn’t cheap out too much on the cooking wine and can enjoy a glass while preparing the meal. You should have 500ml to yourself!

Dice the pork shoulder steaks into chunks. Keep any bones or trimming that they may come with.

Rinse the carrots, garlic and onions. Peel and dice the onion and carrots into a small dice, reserving the peelings/trimmings.

Using bones, trimmings, and stalks to infuse the chicken stock is a great way to avoid waste while building flavour

Pick the rosemary and sage, reserving the stalks. Chop all the rosemary and only half the sage leaves. Reserve the other half for finishing the pasta. Peel and chop the garlic finely as well.

Finely chop the birds eye chillies. If working with dried oregano that is still on the stalk (good for you, that’s quality baby!) pick the leaves off and rub between your fingers to break it up.

If there were any pieces of bone on your pork shoulder chops, brown them in a pan with a little oil. Once browned on all sides, add all the trimmings, peelings, herb & chilli stems. Sweat 2 mins. Add the chicken stock and simmer for 20 mins while you’re doing the rest. This will avoid any waste and begin building flavour in the stock which will only contribute to a great sauce!

Something from nothing. Building flavour with the trimming and “waste” ingredients

Heat a heavy-bottomed pan over medium high heat. Season the pork dice very well with salt and pepper. I used a chilli-infused sea salt Scott brought back from a work trip to Mallorca. When the oil is hot, add the meat in batches to brown on all sides. Remove to a colander to make room for the next batch and drain the oil.

Remove the last batch of browned meat, turn the heat down to medium and add the carrots. Cook until browned on all sides, then add the onion. Cook another 5 mins. You will notice the moisture coming out of the vegetables will help deglaze the pan. Finally add the chopped garlic, chopped chillies and chopped herbs to the pan. Now the house is smelling REALLY GOOD!. Stir constantly to prevent burning to soften the garlic and chillies, about 2-3 mins. Deglaze with red wine, scraping the browned bottom of the pan. Cook for about 10 mins to evaporate the alcohol and reduce slightly. Add the pork back to the pan with the tinned tomatoes. Strain the stock into the pan as well.

Bring to a simmer, cover and turn the heat down. Cook with a cover for about 4-5 hours, and then remove the cover and reduce to consistency with a further 1-2 hours of simmering. The pork should be tender, but not turning to mush. The heat control on the simmer is very important, it should be very gentle, frequent bubbles.

If you have a gas stove, place the washed Romano peppers directly in the flame until blackened on all sides. Place in a bowl and cling film. Let sit for 15 mins. Unwrap and peel the skins from the peppers. Remove the seeds and slice into strips. If you don’t have a gas stove you can try this under the broiler. I used my blow torch, but understand this isn’t a common kitchen tool.

Blistered Romano peppers add a smoky flavour and sweetness to the rich Ragu.

For the Pici place the flour, salt and oil in a bowl. Add the warm water and stir with a spoon to combine. Once the dough is “hydrated” and shaggy form into a ball with your hands.

Work on a floured work surface for 10 mins, kneading it well. Set a timer. No cheating. It seems like a long time but you need to work this dough for a while to develop the gluten strands which will allow you to stretch the noodles nice and thin and give a nice chew to the them once cooked. Once well worked, place in a lightly floured bowl and cover with cling film. Allow to rest in the fridge for at least an hour, but up to a day.

When the Ragu is ready fold in the sliced & peeled peppers.  Remove the dough and cut into grape-sized pieces. Roll out in a long noodle shape. If the dough is a bit dry and doesn’t grip the table or your hands, have a small bowl of water nearby to dab a little between your palms between each piece. Roll each noodle out to approx. 2-3mm thickness (they will puff up in the water) and place on a floured baking tray. Toss to coat so they don’t stick to each other.

It’s a labour of love but tastes so much better than any dry pasta you can buy. Many hands make for light work, so enlist some helpers for the task if they’re around.

Prepare your pasta finishing ingredients by cubing the cold butter, chopping the remaining sage leaves into ribbons (chiffonade), and finely grating the parmesan cheese (peel a few pieces off the block with a vegetable peeler first for garnish, then grate the rest). Everything will happen very quickly once you start boiling the pasta so you want everything in its place to avoid having to run around the kitchen while pots bubble over.

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil. When at a rolling boil, add the Pici and cook for about 5 minutes until tender. Thicker noodles will take a little longer. Once cooked, keep a cup of the pasta cooking liquid aside and remove the noodles to a large sauté pan. Add a good 1/3c of the pasta cooking liquid. Add the butter bring to the boil. Allow the sauce to reduce until it begins to coat the pasta. Remove from the heat and add the grated cheese, sage and a healthy crack of black pepper. Toss off the heat very well to make a sticky glaze for the pasta. If too thick, add a few spoonfuls of pasta water.

You can now either add the Ragu to the pan and toss all together to yield a creamy emulsified Ragu or plate the noodles as is and garnish with a ladle of the hot Ragu over the top. 

Garnish with the parmesan shavings and enjoy with a few glasses of Tuscan red wine.

WINE PAIRING:

We visited out friend at the Bottle Apostle on Abbeville road for some advice on a wine to pair with dinner. Amoung the recommendations, we chose the £16 2018 Reverdito Barbera d’Alba, which was smooth and supple enough to suit the slow simmered Ragu. It went down a treat!