Photo by Teagan Ferraby on Unsplash
We can all collectively agree that after the hot mess of 2020, everyone was ready for a new year reboot. My approach to this was to create a manifestation list entitled ‘Twenty-One Things to Do In 2021’. This list encompassed dreams as big as traveling aboard and as small as helping my cat reach her ideal weight (as her vet had shamefully advised me). Somewhere right in the middle of this list was learning to make homemade pasta. To some, this may sound like a manageable task. It pains me even further to reveal that it took me deep into the hot Los Angeles summer to complete the aforementioned goal. Yes, that’s right - a hardy creamy homemade pasta was to be crafted by me and my then Boyfriend in his small kitchen in the middle of July. A recipe for disaster in its own right.
At sunset, we collected the ingredients and got to work. We began by pouring the flour out on the kitchen table and creating a crater in the middle for the eggs to live. I had watched several YouTube videos beforehand, so even though this felt messy, I knew it was right. However, I couldn’t help but notice the nervous stares Boyfriend was delivering from the corner of my eye. Knowing there was no turning back, I sprinkled some salt and olive oil over the mound and committed like the baddie I am. Slowly I whisked the surrounding flour into the egg pool I’d created. I - was - entranced. It was as if I had become Demi Moore in the American classic film Ghost. Unfortunately, my fantasy never turned into a reality: wishing for my Patrick Swayze to come up behind me, letting our hands interlace as we would knead and sculpt our dough masterpiece.
After several not-so-sensual minutes of kneading, it was time to rest. The dough, that is. We needed to begin the preparations for the sauce and the roasted Brussels sprouts I had planned to serve alongside it.
Somewhere between the pine nuts and plucking basil is where this disconnect came into sight. I for one, am a very “go with the flow” type of gal. When planning this meal, I referenced a few different recipes and videos, but ultimately, I was just going to play it fast and loose. On the other hand, Boyfriend seemed to want to keep things a bit more organized and exact. So, once we had the sauce simmering, sprouts baking, and noodles rolled and cut, I WAS LIVING. Your girl was thriving in the steamy kitchen chaos. Suddenly I was the prima ballerina in a fever-induced interpretation of The Nutcracker. I performed a plié as I plopped the noodles in the boiling water, my arabesque was a true vision as I tossed the Brussels sprouts freshly pulled from the oven, and my pirouette was picturesque as I finally poured the pesto over the perfectly al dente pasta. Boyfriend, however, wasn’t proving to be such a prominent figure in this production; he was mostly sweeping the stage behind me figuratively and literally as I had left a trail of flour behind.
After what felt like months’ worth of anticipation being squeezed through the narrow waist of an hourglass, allowing the final grains of sand to settle - it was time. We set the table with our favorite wine and served ourselves. I spun our imperfect pizza cutter-cut noodles around my fork and lifted them to my mouth. It. Was. Unbelievable. The texture was completely unrecognizable from any boxed pasta I’d ever tried. The sauce was smooth and creamy, yet the basil gave it a bit of a bite. I didn’t even bother to keep the Brussels sprouts separated; they found their home bobbing atop my pasta so they could bathe in the sauce as well. An overwhelming sense of pride was bubbling up inside of me. I had just completed a year-end goal off my list and at that moment I thought nothing could bring me down.
I looked up at Boyfriend, while my body wiggled around in my seat doing my “good-food-happy-dance”, and I asked what he thought.
“Yea it’s pretty good.”
That’s all he had for me - and honesty he wasn’t wrong. By no means was this a Michelin Star dish. It probably had many flaws that any human who’d ever tried any type of pasta could point out. But it tasted so good to me because it meant so much to me. I couldn’t help but take it a little personally because its sporadic involvement of ingredients and hodgepodge of techniques was a reflection of me.
We broke up a few months after that, and funnily enough (although not surprising), he was the first to actualize this incompatibility between us. I don’t think I saw it that night we made the pasta together, or even after some time had passed post-breakup. It took me longer to see that we just didn’t blend; it was no one's fault. Just a classic oil and water situation.
So maybe I shouldn’t blame the pasta for us growing apart. In some ways, the pasta helped show us both a little more about who we truly are on the inside as individuals. And, well my friends, life lessons like that are quite PASTA-BLY the best soul food one can consume.
Below is the recipe for my Parting Ways Pesto Pasta:
PASTA:
Ingredients:
4 large eggs
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tablespoon olive oil
Pinch of salt
INSTRUCTIONS:
Dump flour on the table and shape it into a volcano. Using your hands create a crater in the middle of the pile where you will deposit 4 eggs, salt, and olive oil. Slowly begin whisking the flour into the gooey middle. Continue to work that dough for approximately 10 minutes until the consistency is like a firm slime your niece or nephew loves to play with(firm but not sticky, if sticky add a tiny bit more flour). Now roll it in a ball and let it rest room temperate for 1 hour.
After its lil naptime, divide the dough into smaller manageable balls and roll it out on a floured surface. I used a wine bottle, but you do you. Roll it thin, thin as your nails after you remove your gel manicure yourself. Then use a pizza cutter to cut strips as wide as you want. I didn’t have a rack or anything to hang them so I put them side by side on a floured baking sheet. Try not to get them tangled.
Once you’ve finished, bring a pot of water to a boil and add the noodles. DO NOT COOK THE NOODLES FOR ANY LONGER THAN 5 MINUTES. Or they will become mush-mush.
PESTO:
2 packed cups of basil leaves
1/3 cup olive oil
1/2 cup roasted, unsalted pine nuts(also added 4 walnuts, because I’m nuts)
2 cloves of garlic
Pinch of salt
Spoonful of honey
Splash of water
INSTRUCTIONS:
Add all those ingredients to a food processor/blender whatever you got and blend. Consistency should be pasty.
PESTO CREAM SAUCE:
Spoon full of butter
1 clove garlic
2 cups heavy cream
1 cup milk
1/3 cup of the pesto you just made
2/3 cup grated cheese (I used parmesan)
Pinch of red pepper flakes
Ground pepper
INSTRUCTIONS:
In a large skillet melt the butter and brown the garlic. Then add the rest of the stuff and cook until it is a soft simmer continuously stirring. Add freshly UNDERCOOKED pasta and stir it in. Finally, reduce the heat and add any extra cheese or spices that are calling to you.
You did it you made pasta! ENJOY MY LITTLE PASTA PROFESSIONAL!
Katarina Behrmann a self-identified life-long storyteller resides in Los Angeles with her cat, named Chicken. Some past accomplishments include having a stage play produced off-Broadway in which an excerpt was published with Progenitor Art and Literary Journal. Most recent accomplishments include a creative non-fiction piece published with GreenPrints and a blog featured on Humans of The World. Head in clouds and heart on sleeve, Katarina continues to create.