And God help anyone who gets in my way.
Last week, when the girls were home, we planned a nice evening at the lake house to bring in the new year. We would play games, watch a few episodes of Dexter and maybe a movie, have dinner... So, I planned the dinner, made the grocery list based on the recipes, and hit the grocery stores. Butternut squash ravioli was going to be a key side dish to accompany the roasted duck with a wine reduction. Not a problem, I figured, since I had seen that kind of ravioli in stores before, but that was before I needed it.
I am convinced there is a grocery store law—if I don't need an item, it will be the featured special. If I need it, it will no longer be available. Such was the case with the butternut squash ravioli. I checked four local stores, and then we drove to Canton and checked there as well. Nothing.
Then, I decided I would make it on my own but would need a ravioli form to help. We went to five stores for that simple kitchen tool, and again—nothing. I would not be deterred! I figured out how to make my own dadgum ravioli, and it was glorious.
I roasted a butternut squash and mixed it with sautéed onions and a little garlic, threw in some sage and salt and pepper and made a bowl of something God would eat, to use a phrase No. 1 coined when she had a beautiful sandwich in San Francisco—"This is what God eats," she said.
Then, I made the pasta using my handy Kitchenaid pasta thingy. Then I cut the pasta sheets into circles with a two-inch biscuit cutter, scooped in the squash filling and sealed each ravioli with a fork. It wasn't unreasonably difficult or time-consuming, and it was just great with the duck and sautéed broccoli rabe.
Who needs a stupid grocery store, anyway? Who needs somebody to make ravioli and freeze it and sell it in a plastic bag? Tell ME I can't have butternut squash ravioli. I've got your butternut squash ravioli right here.
Now, I'm thinking about all the different things you can make ravioli with—spinach and feta, sausage and fennel, goat cheese and roasted peppers. Any other ideas?
Last week, when the girls were home, we planned a nice evening at the lake house to bring in the new year. We would play games, watch a few episodes of Dexter and maybe a movie, have dinner... So, I planned the dinner, made the grocery list based on the recipes, and hit the grocery stores. Butternut squash ravioli was going to be a key side dish to accompany the roasted duck with a wine reduction. Not a problem, I figured, since I had seen that kind of ravioli in stores before, but that was before I needed it.
I am convinced there is a grocery store law—if I don't need an item, it will be the featured special. If I need it, it will no longer be available. Such was the case with the butternut squash ravioli. I checked four local stores, and then we drove to Canton and checked there as well. Nothing.
Then, I decided I would make it on my own but would need a ravioli form to help. We went to five stores for that simple kitchen tool, and again—nothing. I would not be deterred! I figured out how to make my own dadgum ravioli, and it was glorious.
I roasted a butternut squash and mixed it with sautéed onions and a little garlic, threw in some sage and salt and pepper and made a bowl of something God would eat, to use a phrase No. 1 coined when she had a beautiful sandwich in San Francisco—"This is what God eats," she said.
Then, I made the pasta using my handy Kitchenaid pasta thingy. Then I cut the pasta sheets into circles with a two-inch biscuit cutter, scooped in the squash filling and sealed each ravioli with a fork. It wasn't unreasonably difficult or time-consuming, and it was just great with the duck and sautéed broccoli rabe.
Who needs a stupid grocery store, anyway? Who needs somebody to make ravioli and freeze it and sell it in a plastic bag? Tell ME I can't have butternut squash ravioli. I've got your butternut squash ravioli right here.
Now, I'm thinking about all the different things you can make ravioli with—spinach and feta, sausage and fennel, goat cheese and roasted peppers. Any other ideas?
Comments
Kyle's right, Robyn. I dread to think what goes in to supermarket readymade ravioli. Blech.
Now that you've experienced the revelation of the real thing, let's have lots more pasta cookery posts.
Inspirational stuff.
But making your own pasta is loads better, of course. We had homemade butternut tortellini for Thanksgiving (which I did not make) in browned butter, and it was heavenly.
You could always package some of that up and send it out here. See how it travels... then I could skip the store-bought AND eat before 10. :)