One low key Saturday afternoon a couple of weeks ago I thought the best way to commence this journey was to start with the basics (who am I kidding, all my Saturdays are low key, I’m single and seem to resemble a hermit these days). No I didn’t make bread (pane in Italian) but the other staple of the Italian diet, pasta or la pasta. Admittedly, I’ve had three prior attempts at this and two were complete failures. The first time was in Italy in 2019 at a cooking class in the beautiful Tuscan countryside. I’d added too much flour to the dough when kneading so it was too hard and then when rolling it out, it was the size of a face cloth and split. Epic failure. The second time was back home after that trip. I’d invited Mum over for lunch. Lunch would have been better if we’d gone to McDonalds. The third attempt was a couple of months ago in another cooking class, however that time I had nothing to do with the actual construction of the pasta, I just rolled it out, so I guess I can’t really count that one. Regardless of two or three attempts, it’s safe to say that I didn’t have high hopes of this one being the turning point of my bad luck. What person with Italian DNA can’t make pasta? *raises hand* That’d be me Sir.

Armed with a bit more guidance this time by way of Elizabeth Hewson’s recipe from her infamous cookbook Saturday Night Pasta, I assembled the ingredients (I even weighed the eggs, I’ve never weighed eggs in my life) and secured my pasta machine to my bench. To digress, my pasta machine is my Nonna’s. She kindly gifted me her ‘good machine’ last year and I still choose to take this gift as a right of passage. The passing of the torch so to speak, and I’ve only just used it, a year later. I’m very good at procrastinating.

The flour and egg combined but not quite as good as the recipe said it should have so I added another egg (two steps in and I already had issues with following instructions). With a bit more working of the ingredients the dough came together enough to be able to tip out on my bench to start kneading. Unlike my first attempt in 2019, this time the dough was kneaded to perfection. It was smooth, shiny and sprung back when poked like the collagen filled skin of a teenager. Where I went wrong was thinking that I’d be able to completely nail the full process this time as I hadn’t added too much flour to the bench or my hands when kneading. Surely this was a sign that I’d suddenly become a natural?

The next step is when I had a brain fart. Once the dough was kneaded to perfection I had to wrap it in cling film and rest it for at least half an hour. This should have been the easiest part of the process to complete but my brain didn’t think to lightly flour the dough before I wrapped it in plastic. An hour and a half went by because something great was on TV and the time had come to complete the next step. Cue not being able to unwrap the plastic because the dough had stuck to it - IDIOT! After a few swear words and scraping of the plastic to remove the dough that would come off, I cut the ball into smaller parts, lightly dusted them with flour and passed them through the machine from the widest setting to the thinnest to create lengths of pasta that could be hand cut into fettuccine.

I’ve discovered my skill lays in passing the dough through the machine. This I could do flawlessly. I can not be trusted with more complex tasks. Pasta now rolled, cut and covered with a tea towel, I made the sauce (a simple tomato one) and I was nearer to the finish line. By this stage it felt like I’d been making pasta all afternoon (I had, because I am easily distracted) so the food photography stopped. My hangryness (yes it’s a word, hungry-angry), lack of patience and distain for photography made me give up documenting the final product so I have no evidence I actually made it to the end. I devoured my efforts and surprisingly it was delicious. From my first attempt at Saturday Night Pasta therapy, I was pretty chuffed at the outcome and realised a couple of things about myself in the process.

Me vs La Pasta

• I have trouble following instructions and prefer to cook following my instincts (this makes sense because I hate baking as it requires precise measuring of ingredients)

• I get frustrated when things don’t go according to plan

• I am easily distracted when the TV is on

• I couldn’t make fresh pasta every day and much prefer the convenience of Barilla

• I need to learn about food photography

Despite this attempt not quite going 100% to plan, I had so much fun. Cooking is ultimately trial and error, I guess that is why cooking shows and celebrity chefs have test kitchens. My humble home kitchen is my test kitchen and she will be getting a work out. I haven’t planned what I will cook next but you can sleep at night in the knowledge that I will be perfecting my pasta making skills. Next time I will flour the dough ball before wrapping it in plastic, I will take more photos of the process and I will turn off the TV and pop on some inspiring cooking music instead. Who knows, maybe Saturday nights will become my favourite night of the week. So, here’s to Saturday Night Pasta therapy and a glass of red from Montelpuciano. Salute (cheers).

Ci vediamo a presto! (See you soon!)