We made Portobello Raviolis!
This is the first dish that we spent an entire afternoon making, taking almost 3 hours with two of us. Takes painstaking effort to knead the dough, roll them to 2mm thickness and cut them into beautiful oval shapes, then rolling them again to flatten them further. Aloysius cut 2 boxes of portobellos and 8 cloves of garlic, learning a new method to peel and cut. We squeezed dry the portobellos after cooking them in the pan at medium heat, then kept that bowl of umami broth for our sauce later on. Then we blended the mushrooms, half of them smooth and the other half into 2mm bits, mixed them together with ricotta cheese and sit them in the fridge to let the flavours settle and enrich itself.
Then we made brocolli soup. The flavour was based on stir fried onions and and sweetness from carrots, and the familiar and comfortable smell of brocollis. With least amount of water I’d try to cook it with, because I love a concentrated vegetable soup. Usually I’ll drop a cube of chicken stock. But thankfully this time around the portobellos were flavourful enough so this became a palatte rester.
We took out the dough from the fridge, and while Aloysius rolled them, and cut them with a cupcake maker, giving it a pretty jagged edge. I taught him how to wrap it. I guess its human nature to want to wrap more flavour within a small sheet of dough, so he made pieces that exploded in the boiling water. Hence we switched over. I wish he’d try harder too but I think he wants the best out of his effort and I’m better at my fingers. He rolled all the dough with so much might he said! At the end of the day, his foot hurt (I’m like didn’t you use your arms instead of your foot when you rolled the dough? He said yes but he did a warrior pose to exert that amount of strength. Oh my heart.) It was like his work out of the day. Thankfully we had enough flour and dough for about 42 raviolis (I’d detail the proportions below). I wish I took a photo of him.
Then we took it to the stove. Aloysius did the boiling after a demo, and passed the 8 raviolis per batch to me, while I bulk cooked the sauce for consistency and drop the boiled raviolis into the sauce for 3 mins. Then I’ll pour about 1/4 of the sauce into each serving plate.
The sauce is a rich portobello liquid for umami + pasta water (for starchiness) + 4 medium sized tomatoes for tanginess (which makes every bite refreshing) + a box of parsely leaves (including the stems) + nutmeg for some nuttiness + 4 spoonful of grated parmesan cheese for umami and saltiness+ garlic which I think is an important ingredient for stir frying goodness.
I think the sauce doesn’t have to be creamy. A light sauce would be a relief to eat so that the creaminess of the raviolis stand out. But all sauces should have umami. Another suggestion that I’d have would be vegetable stock from pumpkin/squash, etc. Or meat based chicken stock.
Linking you to other flavour combinations here
Personally I’ll experiment with these flavours
Mediterranean Prawn and Burrata
I took a page out of my Flavour Thesaurus and these are the flavour combinations which I took and interest to and inspired by Lobster Salad with Mango and Basil by Alain Serendens and the traditional shrimp, papaya and lemongrass Vietnamese combination. A similar recipe would be this Red prawns with lemon water and pineapple sage flowers.
Shellfish + Lemongrass + Basil + Mango -> this could be a challenging project but I’d love to taste the result.
I’m inspired by the textures from this recipe. It uses spinach, artichokes, capers and sun dried tomatoes, I wonder how that feels like on the tongue? Could there be a deep taste from the sun dried tomatoes?
Proportions for pasta dough
What I think of good pasta
Springy texture: Requires some energy to roll because of the tension formed in the flour
Observation: Does not break easily when it is 2mm thick, not too moist, feels like the face of a beautiful SKII model.
Observation: Colour - Pale yellow, 50% of the saturation of the pasta in the image below. When lifted against the light, it should be thin and clear enough to see a muted dull colour of the background.
To achieve that, this is the golden ratio I live by in hot and sunny tropical Singapore.
1 cup of plain flour to 1 large egg, a pinch of salt, and a tablespoon of olive oil.