Call To Adventure Essay

 Clara Hammer

1-24-25

“Adventure” Assignment

Explorations In Pasta

It only takes four eggs, four cups of flour, and far too much time on your hands to make what I call pure happiness. I have always loved pasta. As a child, I was particular about food, and pasta became a comfort for me. When I visited a restaurant with my family, I became very anxious about the menu and how I might be perceived if I did not finish my food. But, if pasta was on the menu, I knew I would be safe. It took me a long time to learn how to try new foods and that leaving food on your plate when you are full is acceptable. Throughout that journey, I have tasted many pasta dishes. However, there is one thing in the realm of pasta I have never tried. So my boyfriend, Nate, and I decided to try our hands at pasta making. 

I was determined to make ravioli; the pockets of soft, salty cheese had always enticed me. However, my lack of preparation foiled our plan. So we pivoted to Farfalle, one of my longest companions. Their distinct, bowtie shape is excellent for holding sauce and creates a pleasing texture. My boyfriend and I donned our aprons and got to work.

As I measured out flour to create the pasta, Nate began dicing onions for the Pomodoro (tomato) sauce. I carved out a well in the center of the flour mountain, and he cracked our four eggs into the center. As the volume of egg increased, our volcano of flour threatened to overflow. I slowly incorporated the egg and flour with a fork while Nate watched pensively. I tried to avoid creating an eggy mess, but it was inevitable. I whisked too vigorously, and one of the flour walls toppled over. A river of egg began to form on the counter. My boyfriend and I managed to corral the egg temporarily, but eventually, I dove in. Kneading the clumpy mixture with my hands seemed like a practical idea; however, the goop quickly covered my hands and became a slimy, yet flaky mixture. Nate then took a turn kneading and transformed our disgusting concoction into a semi-homogenous glob of dough. The most difficult part was finally over, so I thought. 

My boyfriend and I then focused on the Pomodoro sauce for 30 minutes to let our dough rest. We sautéed the onions in olive oil, added garlic and crushed tomatoes, and then seasoned the sauce with various spices. By the time our sauce began to simmer, it was time to shape the dough. Back to the experiment we went. I coated the counter with a dusting of flour, and Nate divided the pasta dough into five equal parts. Then, Nate and I alternated rolling the dough into long, thin ovals and cutting them into small rectangles. I assumed the cutting step wouldn’t present many challenges; unfortunately, I was wrong. 

We pinched and folded the farfalle into shape, and it quickly became obvious that our cutting was very inconsistent. My boyfriend and I went through five rounds of cutting and shaping, and as we started on each new set, the older pieces of pasta began to dry out and begged for water. We created about 120 unique pieces of almost-farfalle; some were ridiculously large and thick, and some looked like you could have bought them from the grocery store. Around two and a half hours in, Nate and I were both tired, so we crammed the acceptably sized farfalle into a small pot of water. After we fit every piece into the pot, I realized our mistake: our pot was far too small to cook all of our farfalle evenly. So, my boyfriend and I began to wait once again. After at least three hours of kneading, shaping, cutting, simmering, boiling, and mixing, we completed our dish.

My boyfriend and I sat down to taste the farfalle and were shocked by the taste and texture. The sauce was a flavorful blend of sweetness, acidity, and salt. Pairing the sauce with our smooth, al dente farfalle, created a comforting meal. I tried to manage my expectations but was pleasantly surprised by the flavorful dish Nate and I had concocted. Our pasta was not as thin or consistently shaped as factory-made, but it tasted nearly identical. I would consider this weekend adventure a success, with room for improvement. We could have rolled the dough thinner and measured our cuts, but the pasta was still great. Now knowing pasta making is not as strenuous a process as I once thought, I am interested in attempting another shape or form of pasta. Maybe this weekend Nate and I will work up the courage to tackle ravioli making.