La Cucina Asellina – Pasta Masterclass & A Brunch Pasta Recipe

Ever since my trip to Rimini in June this year I’ve been contemplating making pasta. Fully contemplating mind, not actually doing, for it’s remained one of those things that seems specialist, requires niche skills, best left to the experts or bought from a shop. This teamed with the fact that I’ve always been slightly underwhelmed by the stuff meant that I never had the burning desire to do anything about that situation. All of a sudden though, whilst away I ‘got it’, that lightbulb moment, and I proceeded to spend the rest of my trip ingesting pasta in it’s various forms every day, making up for lost time, fearful of losing that spark of inspiration. It’s true that many dishes embody and absorb their terroir; I thought perhaps pasta would never taste quite the same at home under different skies, and perhaps it doesn’t, quite, with more worries resting on my shoulders, but I was open to giving it a chance.

Therefore, when I received an invite from the PR who looks after La Cucina Asellina, at ME Hotel on The Strand, to a pasta masterclass, I gave it a casual, oooh, 5 minutes before snatching it out of their hands.

A bunch of us met at the bar and got stuck into an aperitif and some snacks. You don’t need me to tell you what I had right (I actually wrote about this in some respect a short while ago)? Before long, we were led away by a chef, handed an apron and got stuck into our lesson. All of the restaurant’s pasta is handmade in the way we’re taught next, fresh each morning by a dedicated chef. The process reveals itself to be ridiculously simple and alarmingly effective.

Best bit?

Playing with the pasta rolling and cutting machine. At around £8k a pop and with crushing rollers and sharp knives incorporated, we were watched with hawk like eyes as we fed through our improbable lumps of dough and watched them transform into silky sheets of pasta with each incrementally narrow feed. Without exception each of us squealed with delight as our own ugly lumps became beautiful carby swans stretched, pulled and sliced into piles that looked alarmingly like real pasta. We were briefly taught how to fold a filled pasta shape but I expect I’ll leave that until I’ve mastered the basics.

Quick lesson over, we retreat to the restaurant and tuck into a three course meal, enjoying charcuterie and bread, perfect pasta (not our own to my disappointment, I have a horrible feeling our attempts were whisked rapidly to the bin) and desserts, a small huddle of us loitering for a post postprandial martini. The star of the meal for me, without doubt is my pasta main; I chose a buttery black pepper tagliatelle with chicken liver, pancetta and sage.

A lovely introduction indeed but mostly I’m desperate to have a go at home, and after my trip to Copenhagen I’m right in there. With no fancy, luminous yellow yolked Italian eggs or snazzy rolling machine, I make do with Waitrose’ finest and my trusty rolling pin, cutting a wibbly wobbly path with a pizza wheel for the most ‘rustic’ tagliatelle you’re ever likely to see. That’s the charm though non? My finished brunch dish tastes of so very much more than the sum of it’s parts; of Italian dreams, my own limitations conquered, hearty spice and reward, I can almost smell the blossoms of Rimini in my nostrils. I’m sure most Italians would wince at my creation but I stand by it as the best thing I’ve put in my mouth for a long time.

Anyway, in regards to pasta making, seems I was wrong; as with most things made from scratch, the end result is just a part of the process and I’m thrilled with the results, I may not have made restaurant grade pasta but that wasn’t the plan anyway. This is home style pasta that tastes almost better than that, made by my own hand as it is, it has that additional flavour of achievement and it’s ludicrously easy to boot, it’s also best dressed simply. I’m excited and enthused to have a new technique in my repertoire. Bring on the pasta experimentation.

Brunch pasta

For the pasta

300g ’00′ flour

3 large eggs

large pinch of salt

Put a mound of flour onto a clean work surface, make a well in the centre and crack in the eggs, adding a pinch of salt. Slowly mix the eggs with a fork, gradually incorporating the internal edges of flour until you can do away with the fork and get stuck in with your hands. Work the mixture until it’s all together then knead for a few minutes until you feel the dough is smooth and elastic.

Place in the fridge for an hour or longer to rest.

When ready to start your dish, take your dough and roll out as thinly as possible onto a surface sprinkled with flour, then slice into threads, the more irregular the better. Ahem.

I used 75g pasta for this dish, but made up a larger quantity to keep in the fridge for a couple of days

For Brunch Pasta – serves 1

• 75g fresh pasta
• handful of cherry tomatoes
• couple of spring onions
• 25g n’duja
• olive oil
• seasoning
• egg

Bring a pan of water to the boil and drop in the pasta, cook for around 4-5 minutes until al dente. Remove from pan and drain.

Add a little olive oil to the pan and chuck in quartered tomatoes and n’duja to soften and melt a little respectively, whilst in a frying pan fry an egg in a little more oil over a highish heat.

Return the pasta to the saucepan and toss to coat with the tomatoes, nduja, 1 sliced spring onion, plenty of black pepper and a little salt.

Add the pasta to a plate and top with the crispy fried egg and the other sliced spring onion as garnish.

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