The joy of cappelletti in brodo

[spacedlaw]

I can see you from here - yes, right through my computer screen - frowning. Unless you are Italian or Italian connected, you might not know that "cappelletti in brodo" is THE standard star of any Italian Christmas day lunch.

Never mind lengthy explanations. They look like this:



They are also sold under the name of “tortellini” – I think this is more a regional setting or the tradition might have got lost somewhere in the commercial maelstrom.
You can buy them ready made, either from the supermarkets or your local “Pasta al’Uovo” (fresh pasta making shop) OR you can go the hard TRADITIONAL way and make them at home.

A women-only family affair – this is not so much about sexism, you’ll see the point later on – the knowledge usually gets passed on from grand-mothers to daughter to grand-daughters. When you do not have an Italian grand-mother, you either get them from the shop or do as I did a week or so ago and take a lesson.

I repaired to Tricolore, my local favourite cooking school for a quick – one hour – lesson, wondering how they would manage to give us the skills within that time frame: after all, both the broth and pasta dough making take over an hour…



But they had both ingredients ready for us. We only had to deal with the stuffing, shaping and cooking of the little blighters.

Traditional – Emilian, I would guess – filling is
- 100g Minced pork
- 100g Prosciutto crudo
- 100g Mortadella
- One egg
- 125 to 250g grated Parmigiano
That’s to make cappelletti/tortellini for 5 to 10 persons.

The corresponding ingredients for the pasta dough are:
- 500g flour
- 4 to 5 eggs
- A scant pinch of salt (if you must)

(100g flour/1egg for two persons is a decent portion – I use 130G/1egg/1 tbs water for a large portion for the both of us.

You combine the pasta ingredients in a mixer, form a ball, cover it in cling foil and let it in the fridge for at least an hour.

The stuffing is prepared by cooking the minced pork in a little oil or butter, until it is dry (all blood is cooked) and caramelized a little.
You cut the prosciutto and mortadella in rough stripes and mince them thinly along with the cooked meat. Add the beaten egg and a good grating of fresh pepper and nutmeg. NO SALT.



Add the parmigiano by the spoonful, stirring with a fork or spoon until the mass is quite compact and will allow you to roll tiny fragments of it into little pellets.
That’s a big one, by the way…



The dough should be rolled out. At home I am using a handle cranking machine to ensure a smooth and equal sheet but they made us do it by hand, the traditional way.

Allow me to put it bluntly : Pasta dough rolling is an Olympic discipline.
The dough they had prepared for us has sat a little in the open air so had dried, losing some of its elasticity, which made it all the harder to roll out as thin as it should be – ideally you should be able to see through the dough - and I got pain on my triceps for the remainder of the week, which I now recognize as the muscles helping me to raise a mug of tea to my lips. Hello triceps! Nice to know you. Sort of.

Needless to say, our pasta sheet as nowhere as thin as it should have been but still was deemed good enough to go for the next step: cutting.



We were instructed to make squares of about 2 fingers breadth (about 4 centimetres) (they ARE square the photo just has a perspective skewing issue)
If you are making the full dough complement, this is a LOT of squares…

We did not, thank goodness (I think we each had about an individual portion – about 50g flour and half an egg – to play with)
A small pellet is then placed at the centre of each square, each square firmly pressed closed into a triangle – with the help of a little water around the edges if the pasta has gone a little dry, as is to be expected when you have so many squares to deal with.
Then each triangle is placed on top of your little finger – the smaller, the better, which is why it is a woman’s work - and turned into a cappelleto, the longer sides of the triangles being sealed around the finger with a little pressure (and when needed a little water).



Lay aside. Admire you work.
Now on to the next 200…

In practise, this is team work. Or a long sluggish nightmare if you make them for more than two persons.



You cook – and serve - them in broth, sprinkled with a little more parmigiano.
Christmas time broth is traditionally made with capon and often a little hen and/or beef. Mine was an oxtail broth. Just as nice (if not nicer).



A lot of work but fun.
Making your own pasta is so good for the soul…