For me, food and slowing down go hand in hand. The connection to land and sea and the stories that define dishes. That’s really the whole ethos behind my τραπέζι [trapézi] retreat that’s taking place in Andros, Greece (Sept 28 – Oct 4), with Savour the Slow retreats.

Trapézi means table in Greek, and that’s exactly where this retreat lives. Centred on connection to food, culture, and deeper experiences. We’ve designed it as a Greek-Cypriot culinary immersion, meaning we’ll be in the kitchen together every day, learning heritage recipes like tiropita, handmade hilopites or fava, guided by myself and Jacqui Toumbas, fellow Cypriot, food creative and founder of Savour the Slow.

What a day at Trapézi looks like:

• A long, unhurried Mediterranean breakfast overlooking the Aegean.

• A hands-on workshop (like coastal fire-cooking or breads and pastries of the Aegean).

• Afternoons spent wandering the island paths or swimming in the saltwater pool.

• Long, candlelit dinners where the conversation lasts for hours.

We are now down to our final 3 rooms, all of which are available as either single or double occupancy - I’ll link to all of the details below where you can find more information about the available rooms, the retreat itself (including our itinerary), and pricing.

I am so excited to be collaborating with Savour the Slow to deliver this in residency retreat, and even more so to share my Cypriot heritage with you through food. I hope to see you at the table.

Find out more about Trapézi

Unfortunately, I am a chronic over-thinker.

It’s no secret that when it comes to pasta, I like to be precise. I always measure my ingredients, and I love learning about how dough is impacted by a multitude of variables - the quantity of ingredients used, the environment in which it was made (is it dry/humid?), the rest time, the type of flour, the brand of flour - I could go on.

I talk a lot about dough hydration - which is the ratio of water (or whatever liquid mass) to flour. If you’re familiar with my recipes you might already know that I like to drop the hydration point from 50% to somewhere around 47% when making orecchiette, and that I like playing around with ultra-low hydration doughs (38-40%) to make the best linguine/spaghetti without an extruder, finding ways to make these doughs workable by hand. I genuinely find this so fun and interesting. And while it’s (relatively) easy to discuss dough hydration in the context of semolina/water pasta dough, it becomes more complicated when you look at egg doughs.

Egg dough hydration

Let’s start with the basics. You can calculate the overall dough hydration by assessing the liquid ingredients relative to the dry ingredients. Let’s take my master dough as an example -

135g whole eggs
85g egg yolks
360g tipo 00 flour

Eggs are our liquid source here, so with a total liquid mass of 220g, that makes my dough sit at a hydration point of 61% ((220/360) x100).

If we now look at the more classic beginner dough, which is 1 medium egg per 100g flour, we can make the assumption that the dough hydration would be somewhere between 52-55% (assuming the average medium sized egg weighs somewhere between 52-55g).

That’s a difference of over 10%. If we think back to our semolina and water dough and consider increasing or decreasing the hydration by 10%, we know it would have a dramatic effect on the dough (like, dramatic). So why isn’t this the case when comparing the above?

This is where understanding the constitution of an egg comes in handy.

Egg yolks vs egg whites

Egg yolks and egg whites do different things to pasta dough. For example, egg whites can help make a dough more pliable, while egg yolks bring a richness and silkiness to the finished texture.

Great! So surely you can just do a mix of whole eggs and egg yolks and stick to that beginner’s dough hydration of ~52%? Well, not quite. If you tried to do that, you’d find yourself with a crumbly mess of unworkable dough that might just end up in the bin.

Egg yolks and egg whites are not like for like, nor are they simply interchangeable. To understand why, we need to look at the (rough) science behind it.

Egg whites are mostly comprised of water, whereas egg yolks contain significantly more fat and less water. Fat doesn’t hydrate flour the same way as water does, in fact it even inhibits the absorption of water, and when you remove egg whites from a dough, you’re removing a major source of moisture. In yolk-enriched doughs, you will need a higher hydration point to compensate for that loss of moisture in order to properly hydrate the flour, otherwise the dough will be too dry and difficult to work with.

If you tried to alter my master dough recipe and use 85g whole eggs and 135g egg yolks, you would likely find the dough to be dry and quite possibly near impossible to work with, because you would be reducing the water content of your liquid source without adjusting the overall hydration point.

This is exactly why egg yolk doughs require such a high hydration point (upwards of 85%) in order to work.

On the flip side, too much egg white content in a dough will make it feel sticky and overly hydrated, which is why whole egg doughs will naturally sit at a lower hydration point than doughs enriched with extra egg yolks.

How big is an egg, really?

After reading all of that you might decide that you can’t be faffed with measuring your eggs and instead seek comfort in the simplicity of the beginner’s dough. Not so fast.

While it might seem obvious that different sized eggs will have an impact on your dough, have you considered the variation of egg yolks to whites between even the same marketed size of eggs?

I made a short video here which looks at the weight and composition of two eggs from the same carton. While there was a significant weight variance to begin with, a further analysis of the eggs confirmed that the majority of that came from the egg whites alone.

So sure, while an Italian mama probably doesn’t weigh her eggs, she might find that some days her dough feels drier, and other days it might be sticky. That’s because every egg is different, and hopefully this essay has provided more of an explanation as to why.

And if you are an over-thinker like me, you can find other tips and tricks, recipes and tutorials in my complete guide to fresh pasta - ‘Pasta, from scratch’, which is available for less than 10USD.

Get 'Pasta, from scratch' now!

Since my last post I have been furiously working behind the scenes on a project that I have honestly been bursting at the seams to tell you about, and now it’s finally out in the world. It’s time to meet my new interactive cookbook: Pasta, from scratch.

Pasta, from scratch

Pasta, from scratch is my complete guide to making fresh pasta at home. This is the guide I wish I had when I first started making pasta, when I couldn’t find any single resource that had everything I wanted to understand in one place. I’ve spent years nerding out about pasta, refining this craft and making relaxing pasta therapy videos in the process, so needless to say I am SO excited to share everything I’ve picked up along the way, packaged up sweetly into an easy-to-use guide.

From choosing the right ingredients, to understanding the foundations of dough hydration, I’ll teach you about different laminations techniques, my signature dough recipes, a collection of essential shaping guides and foundational recipes to aid you on your pasta making journey. I wanted to create something that would be genuinely useful for complete beginners, as well as for anyone who is already familiar with making fresh pasta but wants to improve their existing skills. This guide has been designed to give you confidence when making pasta from scratch.

Now, for a little backstory - if you will allow me the attention.

About a year or so ago I went through the process of pitching a cookbook, and I was fortunate that my proposal made it into a number of acquisition meetings. Ultimately, though, the timing just wasn’t right, and in such a saturated market, it simply wasn’t meant to be. While this was honestly a really crushing moment in my career, the desire to share my love of pasta never faded, and I set to work on planning an eBook that I could publish myself.

Months passed and I hadn’t made a huge amount of progress - eBooks are tricky because they can be genuinely really terrible if not done well. I work alone, have zero digital design skills and didn’t know where to start, not the mention a PDF isn’t the easiest format to navigate when you’re cooking. Then one morning in late October last year, I found myself reading a DM from Anna, the founder of Clove. She approached me about a new digital tool they were just about to launch: a video-first experience that was accessible, and easy for readers to cook from. Kind of perfect for a guide about fresh pasta! I guess you could say the rest is history :)

Combining video tutorials (with guided voiceovers), detailed step-by-step recipes, FAQs, hot tips, personal suggestions and anecdotes from me - alongside the Clove app’s technical capabilities like meal planning, grocery lists, step check-offs and weight conversions, I was able to create something far more detailed and functional than a PDF could ever be. I am so proud of it.

I hope it becomes a guide you return to again and again, whenever you feel like making pasta from scratch.

Pasta, from scratch

When I first met Jacqui, I was a little nervous. She’d owned the beloved West End café Miss Bliss - one of the places that made me fall in love with Brisbane back in 2017 when I flew out from London to scope out a future life here. She didn’t know me, I didn’t know her, and no regretti spaghetti didn’t exist in its current form. We were just two strangers.

Fast forward 6 years and I found myself at an event with Jacqui, completely unaware it would spark the friendship behind what I’m about to share. We actually didn’t sit anywhere near one another that night, but just as she was about to leave she popped round to where I was sitting to introduce herself, and in that moment I knew I had met someone really special.

Since then I have had the absolute privilege of having her in my life. Not only is she a good friend, she is also one of the most level-headed, kind and down-to-earth people I have ever met. When she launched Savour the Slow retreats I was heavily pregnant. Gutted I couldn’t go, I quietly promised myself that one day I would, and I watched on as she created something truly beautiful.

I can’t remember exactly how the idea came up (no doubt we were bonding over our shared Cypriot heritage), or who said it first - “should we do a retreat together?” - but that was the moment the seed was planted. And over the past year, we’ve been planning something I’m incredibly proud to share with you.

I’m so thrilled to announce that next year I’ll be hosting a retreat in collaboration with Savour the Slow: τραπέζι [trapézi].

A retreat of recipes, rituals and connection.

A week on the Mediterranean Sea, learning about food, culture, and the beauty of slowing down.

Tomorrow (18.11.2025), our waitlist will receive exclusive access to all the details—two whole months before the public launch.

If you’re someone who loves food not just for the flavours but for the stories, the rituals, and the way it brings people together, this retreat was made with you in mind.

I can’t wait to share more with you, but until then -

Join the waitlist

Now I have shared a number of pumpkin/squash recipes in my time, but I think this one might be my favourite to date. Perhaps it’s something about the little ditalini pasta, or the crispy pancetta, or how it’s layered with flavour - or perhaps it’s just the fact it’s scratching a little itch of wanting to be in autumnal weather instead of hot and humid spring/summer down under 😅

I consider this a one-pot meal, even though technically it’s one-pot, one-baking-tray. We start with roasting the squash with a good glug of olive oil and some fresh rosemary, but aside from that it’s all done in a pan from there on out.

Similar to the beginnings of a carbonara, a cold pan and low and slow technique create the ideal environment for pancetta to render perfectly, becoming crispy and releasing its fat that in turn becomes our base for frying off some sage, garlic and tomato paste. The tomato paste does a couple of things for this dish. Firstly it adds a hint of depth to the colour of the dish (which is v attractive), but more importantly it adds a little acidity that helps to cut through the sweetness of the squash - something I feel is necessary after that very aspect caused me the most horrific pregnancy aversion to pumpkin a couple of years ago. Too much sweetness = sickly in a savoury dish, IMHO. So the tom paste here works wonders.

As suggested, the rest of the recipe plays out by adding the ditalini, chicken stock and later our dairy elements to the pan. It comes together in about 20 minutes (after roasting the squash) and is all in all is a delightful supper (or lunch!) to enjoy.

Squash ditalini with crispy pancetta

Learn how to make pasta with me… and enjoy some wine while you’re at it 🍷

I’m so excited to finally be running another in-person pasta making workshop after taking some time off to recover from surgery back in August - this time in a fun new format. Introducing SIP AND SHAPE, an afternoon of pasta making and connection to be enjoyed, all while tasting some beautiful wine from Calabria Family Wines.

This class will focus on hand-formed semolina pasta, where we’ll learn how to turn two simple ingredients into a variety of pasta shapes. In this hands-on class we’ll make the dough together from scratch, and cover everything from kneading techniques and hydration points, to resting times and of course, how to make a number of pasta shapes. With three delicious drops to try, we’ll sip and shape the afternoon away.

More info and tickets can be found below - I hope to see you there!

SIP AND SHAPE - NOV TICKETS

Also while I have you! If you’ve been enjoying the resurgence of this publication, I’d love to hear from you. Drop me a comment or send me a message - and if you have any feedback - hit me up!

Until next time x

Hi -

IT FEELS GREAT to share this recipe for baked ricotta and spinach stuffed shells in a gorgeous pomodoro sauce because it’s been such a long time since I popped up here on Substack!

I know it’s been a hot minute so let’s do a little recap - for a start, you might notice that I’ve spruced up the branding on here. Does this mean Pasta Sunday is back? Well, sort of. I’m not planning on turning paid subscriptions back on, and I just sort of want to feel this out and share what I’m up to a bit more organically - recipes, kitchen adventures and notes, news and events - that sort of thing. But! I felt like a little facelift wouldn’t go amiss. So whether you’re new here or have been subscribed since the start, I’m hoping to use this platform to connect with you off the other apps in words over video. Saying that last sentence also feels great.

I’ve been working away on a few things bts: continuing to share recipes (now housed on my website, for free), rebuilding said website so it’s better formatted for sharing recipes, running my first in-person pasta workshops here in Brisbane (I’m about to announce dates for another workshop taking place later this month - you can still join the waitlist here!), making some cute little market totes, plus working on how I want to use this platform going forward (I mean there are a fair few of you subscribed so it would be crazy not to!). All while really loving every single second of my continued journey into motherhood - the toddlerhood era has been so, so fun.

Speaking of which, these baked shells made for the perfect prep-ahead dinner that also ticked the boxes for the little one. Classically the filling is made up of spinach and ricotta, however I really like mixing up the greens mix depending on what I have going on in the fridge. It’s a great way to use up leftover leafy greens at risk of wilting to death. While there are a couple of components to put together, all in all it’s an easy dish to make. Also makes for excellent leftovers!

Happy Sunday friends, and until next time 🫶

If you want to shop my toolkit for this recipe, you can check it out here *1

The base sauce was inspired by burro e oro (I shared a recipe for ravioli and this sauce here), which is quite typical in Bologna and really all it takes is trying that combination of butter and tomato once to know how heavenly it is. The additional step of browning the butter adds this nutty undertone to the pomodoro, and the butter element in general makes it taste somewhat creamy. Honestly, this has become one of my favourites pastas for the year so far.

Find the full recipe here

You can also view my recipe on the Bed Threads journal here.

The trickiest part of this dish is shaping them, I find using a spoon to measure out the béchamel dropping it straight into the flour helps, but a key step is factoring in time for the filling to cool and set in the fridge. If you try to skip this, you’ll have an absolute mess on your hands - literally and figuratively speaking.

Another important factor when making these is to ensure you take your béchamel to the right thickness - it should be like a paste, rather than cream. When you break into the cooked croquetas, you want it to hold shape. We’re not looking for an overly oozey, gooey melted cheese type situation here.

PS if you’re not so familiar with this series, here are a few of the most popular recipes so far.

Greek salad with whipped feta

Mozzarella in carrozza

Fried manchego with romesco

If you’re looking for all 14 episodes, I have a highlight on my Instagram and a collection on TikTok for your browsing pleasure!

The Recipe

Makes 18-20 croquetas

For the béchamel filling

• 40ml olive oil

• 60g flour

• 400ml whole milk

• 90g young manchego

• Fresh nutmeg

• Salt

• White pepper

• 100g prosciutto, cut into small pieces

• 30g blanched almonds, roughly chopped

For the coating

• 75g flour

• 2 eggs

• 75g breadcrumbs

• Neutral oil for frying (you can also use olive oil but in this economy!! I don’t think so)

Method

1. Heat the milk in a small saucepan and set aside.

2. Heat the olive oil in another saucepan for a couple of minutes until glistening, then add the flour to form your roux. Mix well with a spoon and allow this to cook for a few minutes.

3. Slowly add the warm milk, whisking continuously, until it’s fully incorporated, then continue to cook until the mixture thickens to a paste-like consistency and will easily leave the sides of the pan when stirred.

4. Remove from the heat and add a small grating of fresh nutmeg, a generous pinch of salt and 1/4 teaspoon of white pepper.

5. Add the chopped prosciutto and almonds and stir to combine.

6. Spread the mixture onto a baking sheet and cover with clingfilm, pressing down directly onto the béchamel. Refrigerate for a couple of hours.

7. To form the croquetas, first place the flour, eggs (beaten), and breadcrumbs into separate bowls.

8. Use a tablespoon to scoop the béchamel filling and drop it directly into the flour. Coat on all sides then shake to remove any excess flour.

9. Drop this into the beaten eggs and again coat on all sides, before dropping into the breadcrumbs and doing the same.

10. Place the coated croquetas on a baking sheet and again refrigerate for another 30 minutes.

    NB: you can also freeze them at this point if you want to store them for another time. They can be cooked from frozen following the below steps.

11. Once chilled, fill a shallow pan with neutral oil and bring to approx 163c/325f

12. Fry the croquetas in batches until golden on all sides - 4-5 minutes.

13. Place on paper towel and add a sprinkle of salt.

14. Allow to cool for 5 or so minutes otherwise you will burn your mouth!! Serve with aioli/garlic mayo, like the one we made here.

It’s funny, really! As it’s one of my favourite stuffed pastas to eat. The classic combination of spinach and ricotta never goes amiss, and when you pair it with an absolutely stunning butter and sage sauce the vibes are truly unmatched.

When I think of the epitome of a Pasta Sunday, the preparation of ravioli like these are what come to mind. Stuffed pasta in general is a labour of love, and while you might not slave over these little parcels like you might tortellini in brodo (another one on my backlog to bring to you!), they do take time to come together. Of course the end result makes every minute of preparation worth it.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when stuffed pasta entered Italian gastronomy. Various sources will cite anywhere between the 13th and 15th centuries, with the first written references naming a similar preparation dating back a tad further to 1100. Either way, while more commonly associated with the north of Italy, it is widely accepted that stuffed pasta is not confined to those regions, and is rather a dish celebrated throughout Italy (albeit with a plethora of variations, nuances, and difference in terminology, of course).

While there are a multitude of different fillings found in stuffed pasta all throughout Italy, it is arguable that ricotta is one of the more common options, often paired with spinach (like we’re tackling here), or a variety of other herbs and greens like chard for example. The addition of nutmeg and an egg is also very common, however in my (possibly unpopular opinion?), I don’t like to add the egg. I find its addition adds an oddness to the filling’s texture that I just really don’t enjoy. Maybe I’ll change my mind one day but for now, the below recipe is egg-free (well, the filling is!). If you want to add the egg, just throw one in, I won’t take offence.

To serve we are opting for the classic butter and sage pairing - when you have such a light and delicate filling for the pasta it would be silly to overpower it with anything else. There are a couple of different ways to approach the butter sauce, you could do a burnt butter, a beurre monté or just a simple sauce as described in the below recipe. Just make sure you allow the sage leaves to have a momentary sizzle to impart their fragrance before adding the ravioli.

The Recipe

Makes ~40 ravioli

Ingredients

Pasta

• 1x batch of my master pasta dough

Filling

• 300g spinach - blanched

• 500g ricotta

• 1/2 tsp salt

• Pepper to taste

• 50g parmigiano, finely grated (plus some extra to serve at the end)

• A good pinch of grated whole nutmeg, perhaps 1/8-1/4 tsp (you can also sub for ground nutmeg if you don’t have access to whole nutmeg!)

Butter and sage sauce

• 200g unsalted butter, cut into cubes

• 30-40~ sage leaves

Method

Filling

1. Blanche the spinach in boiling water until just wilted then dunk in an ice bath before squeezing out as much moisture as possible.

2. Place the now drained spinach in a blender and blitz until roughly chopped.

3. Add the remaining ingredients and blitz until combined.

Ravioli

1. Make the pasta dough.

2. Once rested, divide the dough into four pieces. Work with one at a time - flatten the piece with your hand or a rolling pin before passing it through the thickest setting on your pasta machine. Fold the edges in to create a neat rectangle that fits the width of your pasta machine, and run it through the thickest setting again until your dough is uniform in shape

3. Continue passing your dough through the machine, working through each thickness setting until you get to setting 6 or 7, depending on your preference for thickness of stuffed pasta (I go to setting 7).

4. Take a rolled sheet of pasta and cut it in half.

5. Along one sheet of pasta, pipe the filling evenly spaced apart along the sheet - I typically fit about 10 rounds of filling.

6. Take the other half of the sheet and drape it over the filling to cover. Use your fingers to press around the filling and remove as much air as possible.

7. Use the blunt/soft end of a round pastry cutter the same size as the filling to gently press to seal around the edges of the filling, then use knife or tagliapasta to cut out each ravioli in a simple square.

8. Place on a baking sheet lined with a baking paper, or a clean tea towel, or dusted with fine semolina and set aside until use.

NB: if you aren’t planning on cooking the ravioli right away or if you have leftovers, I always recommended freezing them until you’re ready to use to prevent the base of the ravioli from getting soggy. Place the ravioli on a tray in a single layer and flash freeze for 20 minutes. Then place in an airtight container and store in the freezer until you’re ready to use. Cook directly from frozen (they might take 30 seconds-1 minute longer to cook so be mindful).

Butter and sage sauce

1. Melt the butter in a sauteuse and at the same time you will want to start cooking your ravioli so have a pot of boiling water (well salted) ready to go.

2. As soon as the butter has melted and is bubbling, throw in the sage leaves and whirl the pan.

3. When the ravioli are cooked - a couple of minutes from fresh - add them to the butter sauce and gently whirl and toss to marry.

4. Serve with a dusting of grated parmigiano reggiano and enjoy!

Note! Any leftover filling can be stored in the fridge and used as a toast topper. It’s also good stirred through some plain pasta for a quick and easy dinner.

First of all, please accept my sincerest apologies for the day’s delay in getting this out to you. I’m based in the usually sunny Brisbane, Australia but this past week we’ve been awaiting the arrival of cyclone Alfred (formerly expected to arrive as a category 2 cyclone but thankfully downgraded to a tropical low by the time he eventually hit land). We lost a fence, the garden is a mess, we lost wifi, phone reception was next to none, and I didn’t have the digital means (or the mental capacity), to get this out to you yesterday. Thank you for bearing with me.

If you’re anything like me you might often find yourself with a few odds and ends in the fridge by the end of the week. Something along the lines of a few zucchini off cuts, perhaps a half an onion, the remainder of a packet of mince, and is often the case for me, usually a couple of small eggplants because I always seem to buy too many.

There is a certain satisfaction I get from utilising all of these leftover bits and transforming them into a meal, which is how this moussaka pasta bake came about. In truth, this is probably more akin to a pastitsio given the addition of pasta, but I really love the addition of classic moussaka veggies making this a one-hit-wonder, especially for my daughter Pia who loved this so much (a win!).

Moussaka vs pastitsio

If you’re unfamiliar with either of these dishes or perhaps you recognise both names but are unsure of their differences, let me quickly break it down.

Moussaka and pastitio (or sometimes called makaronia tou fournou), are both oven-baked Greek dishes. They both contain a mince mixture (I’d argue the mince recipe itself could be interchangeable between them), and are topped with a lovely, thick and a bit more set style of béchamel which when baked is (should be) quite different to what you find on a lasagna thanks to the addition of egg to the mixture.

Moussaka contains vegetables, most commonly layers of potato, eggplant and often zucchini, then mince, then béchamel. Pastitsio on the other hand doesn’t have the layered veggies, and instead uses a very wide tubular, long pasta (similar to ziti), some anari or mizithra cheese, mint etc before topping with that lovely béchamel.

This moussaka pasta bake is a riff on the two.

Pantry/long-life fridge staples I always like to keep stocked up on

The key to a good fridge-raid dish is having a few key ingredients on hand at all times. Having these staples on hand just enables you to take whatever fresh produce and protein you need to use up and work them into a variety of things. Some of my favourite pantry or long-life fridge staples I always like to have on the go are:

• pasta, OF COURSE!

• tomato paste

• canned tomatoes, or passata

• ready to go stock, or stock cubes

• flour

• olive oil

• dried herbs and spices (my favourites are dried Greek oregano, cinnamon, all spice, cloves, cumin, smoked paprika, sumac, Aleppo pepper, dried bay leaves)

• coconut milk

• a ready made curry paste - usually red Thai curry because it seems to be my version of Hoisin sauce

• soy sauce

• chilli oils

• Worcestershire sauce

Then a few things in the fridge like

• hard cheeses - Parmigiano Reggiano, Grana Padano, Pecorino Romano, anari

• guanciale, pancetta

• a lovely stick of salame like a finocchietto

• anchovies

• capers

• olives

Stock up on good staples and you’ll be hard pressed to cook a lacklustre meal at home again!

Why conchiglie

There are a plethora of fab shapes that work well in a pasta bake but for me one shape reigns supreme, and that’s conchiglie. This shape’s name translates to shells in English, because that’s what they resemble. I find they hold structure really well in a bake, and who can argue with those little pockets of love, as Danny Dyer so eloquently put it.

The Recipe

Serves 4

Ingredients

• 300g conchiglie pasta

• 2 tablespoons salt

• 1 small zucchini, chopped into 1cm thick quarters

• 2 baby eggplants (or 1 small eggplant), chopped into 1cm thick quarters

• 4 tablespoons olive oil

• 1/2 red onion, finely diced

• 500g beef mince, OR pork mince, lamb mince, or a mixture - whatever you have on hand

• 2 tablespoons tomato paste

• 1/2 cup dry white wine

• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley if you have it, otherwise go in with 1 tablespoon dried parsley, oregano etc

• 1 can whole, peeled tomatoes - strained from their juices

• 500ml beef stock

• 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

• 1/4 teaspoon ground all spice

For the béchamel

• 500ml milk

• 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

• 65g olive oil

• 65g flour

• 1 egg

• 30g hard cheese of choice - I used Parmigiano Reggiano - finely grated

Method

1. Start by cooking the pasta until very al dente - about 6 minutes if the packet suggests 10 minutes. Drain and set aside, reserving a little bit of the cooking water for use later on if needed.

   The sauce

2. While you’re cooking the pasta, place the cut zucchini and eggplant in a colander and sprinkle over 2 tablespoons of salt - let this sit for 10-15 minutes, before rinsing thoroughly under water and patting dry.

3. Next in a large oven proof casserole, gently heat the olive oil and fry the zucchini and eggplant for several minutes until golden, before adding the red onion - allow this to cook again for a few minutes until translucent.

4. Make some space in the pan and add the mince, allowing this to brown almost entirely before adding a good pinch of salt and pepper.

5. Make space in the pan again and add the tomato paste - let this caramelise for a minute or so before incorporating with the mince/veggies mixture.

6. Add the white wine and allow this to reduce.

7. Next add the whole tomatoes, stock, parsley and spices - then simmer gently, uncovered for about 20 minutes or until the consistency of the sauce has thickened but not totally dried out. Check seasoning and adjust as needed.

8. Remove from the heat and stir through the cooked pasta - if you need to add a splash of pasta water to loosen the mix and help it all come together, go for it. Set aside while you make the béchamel.

   The béchamel

9. Preheat your oven to 190c/170c fan forced/375f

10. Add the cinnamon to the milk and heat gently.

11. In a separate saucepan, heat the olive oil until it glistens (a minute or so), then add the flour to form your roux, mixing vigorously with a wooden spoon/spatula.

12. Cook the roux for 3 minutes before slowly whisking in the milk - do this little by little until you have a thick and smooth béchamel - enough to coat the back of a spoon.

13. Remove from the heat - beat the egg in a small bowl and add a tiny amount of the hot béchamel to it, before then whisking that all back into the béchamel itself.

14. Season generously with salt to taste, and add the grated cheese.

    Cooking it!

15. Finally, pour this over the pasta in an even layer, and bake in the oven for 40 minutes until it’s bubbling.

16. As a final step (promise!), I like to switch the oven to grill/broil mode and finish the bake off for a few minutes so the top becomes really golden and lovely.

17. Allow the pasta bake to cool for 20-30 minutes before serving - I don’t know why but it’s so much better after a good rest (like moussaka and pastitsio!). Also excellent as leftovers!

18. Enjoy :)

L’Amatriciana, or simply Amatriciana sauce is one of the four famous Roman pastas, alongside the aforementioned carbonara as well as cacio e pepe, and la gricia. Interestingly Amatriciana didn’t actually originate in Rome, rather in the town of Amatrice nestled into the hills of the Lazio region, a couple of hours drive away. However it’s in the eternal city that its popularity grew and became one of the most beloved pasta sauces in Italy and beyond.

For good reason! I say / yell. Amatriciana is a perfect example of how a simple dish of humble beginnings can be one of the most exquisite things you’ll ever try. It’s said that the original Amatriciana was created by shepherds who would carry a few simple ingredients with them while herding - guanciale and cheese - something more akin to today’s la gricia. It wasn’t until the 1700s that tomatoes were introduced to the dish and it went from a sugo bianco to rosso.

That all may sound pretty straightforward, but like practically every dish in Italian cuisine, its ingredients and/or method are hotly disputed. Everyone seems to have their own way of doing things, whether it be the type of pasta you use, what sort of tomatoes and preparation are involved, or whether you include onion, white wine and chilli or not. It might sound trivial to some, but as someone who has tried practically every variation of l’Amatriciana, I can tell you every interpretation yields a different result and as personal preference tends to go, one way seems undoubtedly better than another.

I have in the past shared a couple of versions of this dish and always copped a few negative comments on how I’d made it. Honestly, I do value constructive criticism because it prompts me to do more research and try something again in a different way. I don’t love when the feedback is rude, though. But hey, that’s the internet for you.

If you’re wondering what triggered the above comment, well I guess it was a number of things, and I quickly learnt there are a few cardinal sins that are often committed when making Amatriciana, from the perspective of a traditionalist, of course :)

1. No garlic

2. No onion

3. No white wine

4. No chilli (although this seems to be hotly contested!)

5. Must use Pecorino Romano (of course)

6. Must use spaghetti or bucatini

7. Sauce can’t be too thin

That’s not to mention whether or not you use fresh tomatoes, passata or tinned pomodori pelati. Honestly, the list goes on.

Ok so here’s what I really think. I’m a naturally rebellious person and hate being told what I can and can’t do. Especially if it comes in the form of a nasty comment on social media. I think cooking should be intuitive, resourceful, use what you have, and all in all be fun. If you take all of that away, what’s the point?

However, I’m also someone who is very comfortable with admitting when I’m wrong, just sometimes it needs to be in my own time. Which is why it took me approx three years to settle on the fact that maybe the more traditional way is actually the best way for this dish.

The Recipe

Here’s what I love about this recipe. The ingredients are minimal, which means I can almost always whip it up because I consider them pantry staples. The sauce just coats the pasta, it’s lip smacking but not overly saucy. And the flavours of each ingredient present in the dish really sing out in their own right.

Serves 2-4 (2 extremely generous serves, or 4 as a primi)

• 220g guanciale, rind removed and cut into small pieces (should equate to about 200g after the rind is removed)

• 2x 400g cans of whole, peeled tomatoes, preferably San Marzano

• 100g pecorino Romano, very finely grated

• 1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper, plus more to serve

• 300g bucatini

Method

1. Add the guanciale to a cold pan and place over a low heat. Allow the guanciale to slowly render and crisp up - don’t rush this step. If you want to extract as much of that gorgeous fat as possible, it’s essential to go low and slow here. Around 15 minutes.

2. Remove the guanciale from the pan and set aside - reserve the fat in the pan.

3. Crush the tomatoes with your hands and add to the hot fat, now over a low-moderate heat. Add a pinch of salt and the black pepper, and allow this to bubble away uncovered over the course of about 15 minutes before you start cooking the bucatini.

4. Cook the bucatini in a large pot of generously salted water, removing 2 minutes before al dente.

5. Throw the bucatini into the tomato sauce and allow it to continue cooking for a minute or so. It will absorb any extra liquid from the sauce as it finishes cooking, but if your sauce has been going pretty rapidly and has dried out a bit, you can add a splash of pasta water as needed to help it along.

6. Sprinkle over 3/4 of the grated pecorino (reserve the rest for serving) and importantly, toss toss toss to work this into the sauce. I’m not usually one to toss my pasta aggressively, but for some reason this technique really makes a difference to the sauce. It’s also imperative that you grate the cheese as finely as possible to avoid any stringy clumps. The finely grated pecorino is really what makes the perfect texture in the sauce, IMO.

7. Add the crisp guanciale back in, reserving a handful for garnishing. Toss again and you’re ready to serve.

8. Plate up, adorning the bucatini with pieces of crispy guanciale, a smattering of pecorino Romano, and a little black pepper.

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Where to eat bucatini all’Amatriciana in Rome?

The last time I was in Rome, I got engaged, so I have even fonder memories of time spent there. On that particular day, we’d wandered sort of aimlessly through the eternal city, with no real agenda - just open minds and empty bellies. I’d done a fair bit of research prior to our arrival, and had a note in my phone that for the best Amatriciana, we had to go to La Matriciana dal 1870. You can guess what I ordered.

I loved everything about how they made it; how the guanciale was cut, the texture of the sauce, the finely grated pecorino provided on the side to serve. Heavenly. And truly worth your while should you be visiting.

One thing you need to know about me is that I love a little research project. If a topic sparks just the right amount of interest, you can guarantee I will find out everything I can about it. Unfortunately sometimes this leads me down late night rabbit holes on the internet, usually deep diving into something obscure and likely to be totally useless information to store in my memory bank. However thankfully this passion for information does come in handy from time to time.

One such topic that has ignited this passion is of course pasta. Specifically, making better pasta at home. When I first started making pasta, of course my approach was that of a total beginner. I used a basic 1 egg per 100g flour ratio for my dough, didn’t really realise you could make pasta without eggs (lol) and exclusively used the cutting attachments that came with my pasta machine. And while I was always absolutely thrilled with any fresh pasta that came out of the kitchen, made by my own hands, I always wondered why the spaghetti I made just… wasn’t very good.

If you have also tried to make fresh spaghetti at home, I’ll wager you might have been left even marginally disappointed. And after much trial and error I have got answers as to why!

Here’s where we’ve been going wrong

First thing’s first, let’s address the elephant in the room. Spaghetti made at home is truly better off being made with a semolina/water dough. Spaghetti after all is not typically made with eggs, and if you do make it with eggs you’re going to end up with something a little more noodle-like in taste and texture. Delicious in its own right, but in the context of pasta-making, not the result we’re looking for.

Now we can move onto the trifecta of reasons as to why your homemade spaghetti isn’t as good as it could be.

Thickness

I passionately believe there is a common misconception that the thinner the pasta, the better it is. And look, I pass absolutely no judgement… but this is simply just not true. Each shape lends itself to a different thickness that will not only impact how it rolls and dries, but how it cooks and retains structure, and bite.

For example, mandilli de saea (silk handkerchiefs)? Ultra fine is essential for this shape. Pappardelle? If you’re rolling past a 6, we need to talk.

Spaghetti at home also needs to abide by the rules of thickness. Spaghetti is generally speaking, an extruded shape. That means it’s made by dough being forced through a specially shaped die to create the round long strands that we all know and love.

While many machine manuals may suggest rolling the pasta to a setting of 4 before using the cutting tool, I personally find a much better result by leaving the sheet a little thicker - rolling to setting 3 for spaghetti (this is on a Marcato Atlas 150). That little bit of extra thickness not only helps retain that beautiful round shape, but also lends itself to ensuring a beautifully al dente bite, once cooked.

Hydration

Extruded pasta utilise a much lower hydration point than fresh pasta made at home. The application is also completely different, given you add flour and liquid to the chamber of an extruder that does the kneading for you. The dough will combine to become crumb-like, before it’s forced through the die - which means you don’t need to coax this low-hydro dough into a pliable ball before extruding, unlike you need to at home using a cutting attachment.

So how do we drop the hydration, while still being able to work it into a ball of dough that can in turn be rolled into a sheet?

R&R - rest and relaxation. I have previously written about how to approach this, allowing you to drop down to a 37% hydrated dough, however I have an updated method which is a little easier to work with that I’m excited to share with you below. But in short, incorporating generous rest phases in the dough process helps to rehydrate the dough, and thus makes working with a low hydration dough possible and relatively easy.

Drying

I have tested cooking spaghetti even at this lower hydration right away, and I found that it didn’t retain the structure and bite I was trying to replicate. I found that from fresh, the pasta cooked quite quickly and as such, it was hard to keep it al dente. Additionally, I felt the shape warped slightly, and it became somewhat wormy in appearance.

So I then tested drying the spaghetti before cooking. I found my preference was to use a drying rack (you can also just use wire coat hangers if you don’t have a special rack to work with), and was pleased with 1) how quickly I could dry the strands and 2) how well they retained their shape when cooked. After drying the pasta, I found I was able to better control the level of al dente, but also found I was better able to replicate the mouthfeel and bite of extruded spaghetti.

A step by step guide!

This is my updated method for achieving a low hydration semolina/water dough at home.

Ingredients (yields approx 275g / 2 serves)

• 200g semolina rimacinata

• 75ml water

This recipe can be scaled provided you maintain a hydration of ~37% (e.g. 200g flour / 75ml water, 300g flour/112ml water, 400g flour/150ml water etc)

Step one: mix together the flour and water

In a food processor, add the flour then drizzle in the water. Pulse multiple times until you have a sand-like consistency.

If you don’t have a food processor you can replicate the first step by mixing the flour and water together in a bowl with a fork until you have this consistency.

Step two: place the sandy dough in a ziplock bag

As it sounds above, place the crumbs into a ziplock back and seal shut, trying to remove as much air as possible. Use a rolling pin to help smooth the dough into a tight parcel. Please note I ran out of large bags and had to use multiple snack sized bags - you can use one large one, or split the dough up as I did.

Step three: rest to rehydrate

Rest the dough in the ziplock bag for 1-1.5 hours. I know this is a long time but it allows the flour to absorb as much of that water as possible and make this dough easy to work with.

After resting, remove the dough from the bag, scrunch it up into a ball and give it a quick and superficial knead just to ensure you won’t have a crumbly mess when passing it through the machine. I did test running the little slab of dough directly through the machine, and it crumbled into pieces. So this step just ensures you can pass it through the machine no problemo.

Step four: flatten the dough before passing through the machine

This just helps make it a bit easier to get through that first pass.

Step five: pass the dough through the sheeter

We want to run it through the widest setting, folding it in half after after the pass before running through again. Repeat this step multiple times until you have a smooth and uniform sheet of dough that fits the width of your machine.

Step six: time to make spaghetti!

Continue rolling the sheet through settings until you reach setting 3.

Allow the sheet to dry for 10 minutes before passing through the spaghetti cutting attachment.

Step seven: drying the spaghetti

Dust the spaghetti with fine semolina or semolina flour.

Hang the strands on a drying rack (or you can simply use a wire coat hanger!). Allow to dry for a min of one hour but preferably overnight.

NB: once the pasta is completely dry (24-48 hours), you can store it long term in an airtight container in the pantry. Use within a few months! Please note that any damp spots WILL develop mould if you try to store it before it’s totally dry.

The Recipe

This is such a gorgeously simple sauce, perfect for spaghetti. I love bottarga, which is a cured fish roe pouch, commonly available as mullet (muggine, in Italian) - it works so beautifully in a pasta sauce or simply used as a garnish! This recipe is a take on spaghetti con la bottarga, but using a beurre monté sauce as a base. You peel off the thin membrane from the bottarga before grating and adding to the butter sauce - it sort of melts into it and creates this delightfully creamy, salty sauce.

Ingredients

• 275g spaghetti, as above

• 1/4 cup water

• 100g unsalted butter, cold, cut into small cubes

• ~50g bottarga fillet, film-like membrane removed and finely grated using a microplane. Plus save a little knob to grate over the pasta at the end

Method

1. Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil, season generously with salt, and begin cooking the spaghetti.

2. Meanwhile, add a 1/4 cup of cold water to a large frying or sauté pan over a medium heat.

3. Once the water is boiling, drop in a cube of cold butter, swirling the pan and whisking continuously until the butter is emulsified and uniform.

4. Once you have this stable base, you can start adding in a couple of cubes of butter at a time - whisking, whirling and swirling.

   

5. Remove the pan from the heat and stir through the grated bottarga, before whisking in a splash of the pasta cooking water.

   

6. Once the spaghetti is al dente - several minutes from dried - add it directly to the bottarga sauce using tongs. Don’t be shy to take a little more pasta water with you.

7. Toss and agitate the pan to marry and ensure the spaghetti is evenly coated with the sauce, then serve with extra grated bottarga.

OK let’s just start by clearing one thing up: British carbonara isn’t actually bad… it’s just not carbonara. The issue people (Gino D’Acampo, myself) take with it is that it’s just not anything near to what a carbonara is supposed to be yet claims the title. The ingredients for one are completely different, typically containing cream, bacon, sometimes mushrooms, parsley, garlic, onion - honestly the list could go on. Is it carbonara? Absolutely not. But is it tasty? Actually, yes it is.

I mean, what’s not to love - cream, salty bacon, pasta - it’s luxe but approachable, quick and easy to make, impossible to mess up. I feel like this is a safe space so I’ll confess - when I was 18 I went to Malia on an 18-30s holiday and ate a “carbonara” as described above every single day as my one single meal. I survived for a week on that and that alone! And it was glorious, I regret nothing.

Anglicised takes on Italian food, particularly pasta, are notorious for provoking strong reactions from native Italians. A lot of the time I think this gets dismissed as a result of traditionalist views and a lot of passion for keeping things as they are supposed to be, and while I’m sure there is a little bit of that I can’t help but think about how Italian cuisine is one of the most culturally appropriated foods in the world. Then add to that the intricacies of many dishes being a product of a country that is so hyper-regional that their existence and invention becomes a point of both intense dispute and pride, and you can understand why a British carbonara is a bit of an insult.

I first stumbled upon panna e mortadella in Evan Funke’s cookbook American Sfoglino. Anyone familiar with Funke will observe that he is very much into mortadella, so it was hardly a surprise to find a recipe featuring Bologna’s queen of deli meats within the pages of his book. He opens the recipe with “I f*cking love mortadella”, just to share some of his energy with you. So when I got back to London from a short trip to Bologna, armed with a 500g hunk of mortadella, I had to make my version of it.

The dish is delightfully simple, relying solely on the core ingredients for flavour - and there’s only a handful of them. Mortadella - preferably in a large piece so it can be cut into lovely, chunky cubes, cream, black pepper, and some Parmigiano Reggiano to serve. As soon as I took a bite I turned to my husband and exclaimed - absolutely shooketh I might add - that it tasted like the British carbonara that I have quietly loved so dearly all of these years. But better.

The mortadella becomes a little crispy after a stint in the pan before the cream is added. It has the most wonderful texture, far superior to bacon but with all the saltiness that makes bacon so wonderful. I like to use a single/pouring cream over a heavy cream, and finish cooking the pasta in the sauce for the final couple of minutes. It will appear to be far too thin initially, but the pasta will absorb some of that liquid and in return share some of its starch with the sauce, which I find creates a slightly lighter yet very creamy finished dish. You can add a little Parmigiano to the sauce to emulsify, however I prefer to sprinkle over a handful before serving.

In terms of pasta shape, this is really down to your preference but I think a short shape would work best here. I used some of the gramigna that I brought back from Bologna, however farfalle (as suggested in Funke’s book), or penne would be ideal IMO.

The best part? This cooks at the same time as the pasta, so truly a 10 minute meal. I promise this will become your new quick and easy, lazy day dinner.

Watch the video of this pasta coming together, here!

The Recipe

Serves 4

Ingredients

• 300g pasta of choice

• 1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

• 200g mortadella, cut into cubes (I ask the deli counter to cut me off a thick slice, but if you can’t get this just buy sliced mortadella and cut into pieces)

• 1/2 tsp ground black pepper

• 300ml single/pouring cream

• Parmigiano Reggiano to serve

Method

1. Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil and salt generously. Add the pasta and aim to cook for approx 2 minutes less than al dente.

2. Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a frying pan (large enough to eventually add the pasta to), and start by frying the mortadella cubes for several minutes until crispy.

3. Add the black pepper and let this become a little fragrant and toasty - a minute - before adding the cream.

4. As the pasta continues to cook, allow the sauce to reduce slightly, and when the pasta is a couple of minutes from al dente, add it to the sauce (scoop it out with a slotted spoon to take some pasta water with it), and let the pasta finish cooking in the cream. The sauce will appear too thin initially, but you’ll see that it quite quickly is absorbed by the pasta as it finishes cooking.

5. As noted above, you can add a handful of grated Parmigiano to the sauce to emulsify before serving, or just adorn each plate with a scattering to serve. Up to you - personally I find the cream sauce perfect as it is, but if you want to amp up the decadence, add the extra parm.

I’m going to preface this post by saying I am in desperate need of a produce hook up for some cime di rapa (otherwise known as broccoli rabe/rapini) in Brisbane. I don’t know if I’ve just not been looking in the right places, but I’ve been hard pressed to find it so far. If you’re reading this and thinking, well I can’t find cime di rapa either - fear not, as I suspected this might be the case for a few of you. This recipe utilises the readily available and humble broccoli in its place. And let me tell you, it still delivers.

Whenever I make orecchiette I’m reminded time and time again that it is my favourite hand-formed pasta to make. I even have a specific knife that I like to use (a blunt-ish petty knife), its presence now a part of my muscle memory whenever I roll, drag and invert little pieces of dough across the board. There is no other shape that makes me want to play around with dough hydration quite like orecchiette - it’s amazing what a difference a few mls of water can make. If you want to nerd out a little and read more about dough hydration and how I typically work with a lower hydration dough, you can read about it in this post.

So that’s where this starts (in fact, that’s where 90% of my recipes begin, with the shape!) - orecchiette made with a 47% hydration dough, a personal sweet spot. The structure and texture achieved at this slightly lower hydration is fabulous, while the dough itself is easier to wrangle than say a more ambitious 40% dough. Now that I had my orecchiette, I needed a sauce.

Orecchiette con le cime di rapa is a Puglian classic. It contains cime di rapa - a bitter green that somewhat resembles tenderstem broccoli, anchovies, garlic and chilli - all tossed together in a sort of light emulsion thanks to the olive oil and pasta water combining forces. Cime di rapa translates quite literally to turnip tops, and as I’m writing this I’m wondering if I could have just bought a bunch of turnips along with their tops intact and made this (mental note being made: test for another time!).

Before I met my husband, I’d wager that upwards of 80% of what I’d cook day to day would be vegetarian. Not for any particular reason, but I naturally lean veggie when it comes to food. Since meeting him, the meals we share at least have flipped the other way - so knowing that he is the recipient of the majority of what I cook, I often think about adding meat. Lucky for him, broccoli and sausage is a classic pairing in itself! And while this meatier take on the classic Puglian pasta sees sausage usually taking place of the anchovies, I like to keep both proteins in for this sauce. The anchovies add this deep, salty umami hum with every mouthful (without being fishy at all), which just turns this dish up a notch.

You can use a few different greens here - if you can find cime di rapa, then absolutely use that! Otherwise broccoli or the tenderstem variety will suffice. Aim for approx 300g either way.

The Recipe

Serves 4

Ingredients

For the orecchiette (47% hydration)

• 300g semola rimacinata

• 141ml warm water

For the sauce

• Good quality extra virgin olive oil

• 250g Italian sausage, meat removed from casing (push the meat through to release small meatball pieces)

• 1 medium head of broccoli (roughly 300g), florets removed and broken down to be small in size, stem trimmed and chopped into thin rounds

• 3-4 garlic cloves

• 4 anchovy fillets

• 1/2 tsp chilli flakes

• Parmigiano Reggiano to serve

Method

Orecchiette

1. On a work surface, add the semolina flour and create a well in the centre. Slowly drizzle in the warm water and whisk until you have a custard-like consistency.

2. Switch to a bench scraper and start to flip the flour from the outer edge over and onto the water mix, using a cutting motion to then mix it in. Continue to do this around all sides until you have a crumbly, sand-like mix.

3. Start bringing the crumbly dough together with your hands, squeezing and coaxing it in a ball of dough that’s knead-able - scraping up and incorporating as much loose flour from your work surface as possible.

4. Once you have this shape, begin kneading the dough vigorously for a good 10 minutes until the dough is springy and elastic, and not sticking to your hands at all.

5. Cover and rest for 30 minutes - this dough doesn’t need a long rest as the longer it does, the more pliable it becomes. Which means that a long rest may compromise the structure and definition of ridges on the drag.

6. Cut an 1/8 off from the dough (keeping the rest covered while you’re not working with it), and roll the piece into a rope about 1-2cm thick.

7. Place the rope vertically in front of you, then using a knife, cut a thumbnail sized piece from the side closest to you. In one motion, keeping the knife at roughly a 30 degree angle to the work surface, drag the small piece towards you until it curves in on itself, making sure to lift pressure right at the very end (this will help retain a ridge around the outside of the orecchiette).

   NB: You’ll want to use enough pressure to create that signature dragged texture on the orecchiette - but not too much pressure that you tear the dough. Like most shapes, it takes a little trial and error for you to find the right balance.

8. Take the piece of rolled dough and fold it back over your thumb to create the orecchiette shape.

9. Continue until you’ve used all the dough, placing the orecchiette on a tray dusted with fine semolina, or a clean tea towel.

   NB: I like to let the orecchiette partially dry for a few hours if I have the time, to retain structure and bite - they will take longer to cook, but this gives you more time with starchy pasta water to use with the sauce, so this approach allows the two components to work quite harmoniously.

Sausage and broccoli sauce

1. Heat a couple of tablespoons of olive oil in a large frying pan and begin frying off the sausage. Try not to move it around the pan much initially, allowing the meat to brown and caramelise in places.

2. As the sausage browns, use the back of a spoon to help break the meatball pieces up into smaller bits.

3. Meanwhile, steam the broccoli for a few minutes until vibrant. If you prefer you can simply cook the broccoli in the water you’ll use later for pasta.

4. On that note, bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil, salt generously as per.

5. Back to the sausage which should now be nicely browned and a little crispy, add the garlic, anchovies and chilli, cooking for a few minutes until the garlic is fragrant and the anchovies are starting to break down into a paste.

6. If you dried the orecchiette, you can start cooking it right before you add the broccoli to the sauce in the next step, as they will take several + minutes to cook.

7. Add the partially cooked broccoli and a ladle of pasta water, swirling and swishing the pan to help create an emulsion. If you haven’t started cooking the orecchiette (if they’re still fresh), then you can just add splashes of boiling water until you start cooking the pasta.

8. Allow the sausage and broccoli mix to cook away, breaking down slightly as the broccoli softens. You’ll want to add a few big splashes of the cooking water over time (as each ladle reduces) to the sauce, aiming for the finished sauce to be… well, saucy :)

9. Once the orecchiette is just al dente, add it to the pan to finish cooking and toss/agitate to combine everything nicely.

10. Serve with finely grated parmigiano reggiano.

You’d probably be unsurprised to know that collecting dried pasta is a bit of an obsession of mine. I have >30 different shapes and varieties in my pantry at any given time, and I simply can’t help myself but add to my collection if I come across a hard to find or fun shape. I shipped myself over 6kg of pasta back from Europe last month because I couldn’t fit it in my suitcase, which makes the shape I’m about to introduce you to very, very expensive/kg.

Candele! Which translates literally to “candles”. This shape has been on my wishlist for a couple of years but I hadn’t had any luck finding it until I was in Bologna. Candele have a plethora of monikers (cannacce, foratini, maccheroncelli, mezzani, ziti, to name a few), however it’s noted in the Encyclopedia of Pasta (by Oretta Zanini De Vita - an essential resource for any pasta nerd) that while this shape is nowadays considered synonymous with ziti, they are in fact slightly thinner than candele. To put this claim to the test, I also happened to also bring back some ziti tagliati (the short, pre-cut version) from Italy, so for the jury’s consideration I enclose a comparative photo below.

When people talk about pasta they consistently talk about texture, ridges and crevices in relation to their sauce-catching ability. Sure, I do this too! Sauce-catching often = superiority in the pasta world. Or so I once thought. In more recent years I have been leaning heavily into lisce varities, vibing their smooth mouth-feel and lip-smacking quality that rigatoni could never. I infamously (can I declare that?) said that penne lisce was my least favourite short pasta, and now I’m not so sure that remains true.

Eggplant parm or pasta alla Siciliana? You’re most likely familiar with parmigiana di melanzane (eggplant parmigiana), and you’re also likely familiar with pasta alla norma (eggplant in tomato sauce), both of which are delicious Sicilian dishes. This sauce brings the two together - a norma-esque base sauce with the addition of melty mozzarella and sharp parmigiano to bring in the immaculate vibes of eggplant parm. I have also come across this as pasta alla Siciliana made with a mix of caciocavallo and scamorza (this recipe from Giorgia’s Bakery was a big source of inspo for this recipe), but when deep diving into pasta alla Siciliana in general, the results were somewhat inconclusive. It seems that in some cases, pasta alla Siciliana is like an eggplant parm sauce, with claims of an Italo-American heritage, while elsewhere pasta alla Siciliana can range from alla norma, to something entirely different (a spaghetti dish hailing from Messina, rich in flavour from capers, sun dried tomatoes, sultanas, olives and anchovy!). Additionally a similar sauce is claimed as pasta alla Sorrentina, again using scamorza as cheese of choice and tying its origins to mainland Italy. Etymology aside, one thing I noticed is that more often than not, the pasta of choice was a smooth, lisce-type tube - usually paccheri (origin of the word can be linked to the onomatopoeic Neapolitan paccaria which means “to slap” - perfectly descriptive of how it eats), and with a smooth and melty sauce like this one I think this aspect is essential to the enjoyment of the dish. The sauce glides over the pasta as opposed to getting held up on any ridges, but the hollows of the tube still capture the goods as desired.

You must make this!

Eggplant parm sauce - recipe this way!

Before we get into it, if you want to see how I make a classic cacio e pepe sauce and hear a very old voice over (cringe), check this video out.

ANYWHO - off we go.

Let’s start with today’s shape - pici! Pronounced pea-chee :) also known as lunghetti, strangozzi, pinci, and umbricelli (Lazio/Umbria). This shape typically hails from Tuscany (specifically southern Tuscany and the provinces of Siena and Val di Chiana), but also in Umbria and Lazio under a different name as noted above.

Pici is characterised by it’s irregular shape - truly a rustic hand-formed pasta! However you’ll notice I like to make mine quite uniform and smooth - I say this is really down to preference. Basically, don’t sweat it if yours look a bit uneven.

Perhaps it is this rustic and imperfect quality that popularised pici as a fresh pasta option in restaurants. Over the past few years I have noticed pici popping up on menus all over the place and aside from the fact it’s a true joy to eat, the ability to make it quickly and without a huge amount of effort is likely what put it there. Sometimes I find the rustic quality has been taken too far, finding overly fat and almost haphazardly shaped pasta that I just don’t enjoy. But again, that’s preference!

Pici is probably one of the first hand-formed shapes I made way back when I started on this pasta journey. It’s the perfect beginner’s shape because all it takes is a simple flour/water dough, and using your hands as tools to shape the strands. To make it we start with a 45-47% hydrated dough comprised of water and tipo 00 flour. You can absolutely make this with semola or a mix of the two, but it will result in a slightly denser and chewier pasta once cooked.

Once the dough is formed, a long rest is required. If you want to really elongate those strands and achieve uniformity and a little finesse on the thickness of it, then we ideally want to rest the dough for a min of 60 minutes. This will allow the gluten in the pasta to develop and relax, and support the pliability of the dough and in turn your ability to manipulate it. A little olive oil is also introduced, brushed over the dough to make up a bit of hydration, help with shaping, but most importantly to prevent the strands from drying out and sticking together.

A note on storage: I get asked about how to store fresh pasta all the time. While I think fresh pasta is often best used right away, the reality is I often make pasta ahead of time to cook later on - especially since having my daughter and finding I don’t have a lot of time to make pasta and cook in one go.

My favourite way to store pici is by rolling into a spiral, the flash freezing on a baking sheet. After 20 minutes, the coils can then be placed into an airtight container or ziplock and stored in the freezer. Cook directly from frozen, but be mindful they will need a little longer to cook from frozen.

You can check out a video of me making pici here, for all the visual learners out there!

Now that we’ve tackled the shape, let’s chat about the sauce. Cacio e pepe is one of the iconic Roman classics and quite literally translates to cheese (cacio) and pepper (pepe). I once read this dish was created by shepherd’s, being able to carry these few ingredients with them (pasta, cheese, pepper) that would keep well - perfect for their roaming and herding lifestyles. And so the traditional and original way of preparing this is just by using the pasta’s cooking water to create a creamy emulsion. It sounds simple, but it is probably one of the trickier dishes to nail. Enter butter.

Butter has become a popular addition to this dish because of its ability to better support a creamy emulsion. It also adds a softer more - well - buttery flavour to this dish, which to be honest, I often welcome. Adding butter to this dish arguably makes it that little bit more decadent, but also acts as a bit of a safeguard to prevent a stringy and clumpy sauce.

The recipe below is ultra-saucy, just how I like it. However you could easily stretch this for four serves - just increase the amount of pasta you make and you’ll achieve a slightly lighter coating of sauce.

I originally developed this recipe for Small Pleasures and their coffee/conversations series. You can find the interview here.

The Recipe

Serves 2 - big portions! Go big or go home

Ingredients

For the pici

• 200g tipo 00 flour

• 90-94ml warm water

• 10ml EVOO

For the sauce

• 1 tablespoon black peppercorns

• 100g unsalted butter

• 150g Pecorino Romano, as finely grated as possible

Method

1. Place the flour in a mound on your work surface and create a well in its centre. Pour in the water and whisk in small amounts of flour until you have a paste, then continue to add flour to this mix and cut it in with a bench scraper or your fingers.

2. Bring the dough together to form a shaggy ball, then knead for 7-10 minutes with a short, covered rest halfway until your dough ball is smooth, elastic and springs back when poked. Cover and rest for a minimum of 30 minutes but preferably 60 minutes.

3. Divide the dough into four pieces. Work with one at a time while keeping the other pieces covered so they don't dry out. Using a rolling pin, flatten the piece until it's about 1-2cm thick. Brush each side with olive oil, then cut into strips around 1cm in width.

4. Using the palms of your hands roll each strip out into a long, round noodle. Start with your hands in the centre then work them outward, stretching the dough into a thick noodle (or spaghettoni). Keep going until your noodle is about 1/2 cm thick. Pici is a rustic shape, and irregularities are the beauty of hand rolled pasta!

5. Set each noodle aside on a baking sheet lined with fine semolina or a clean tea towel while you continue with the rest of the dough.

6. To make the sauce, first bloom the peppercorns by gently heating in a dry pan until fragrant. Transfer to a mortar and pestle and grind until coarse.

7. Heat the butter in a pan and brown. It’ll splutter and foam and smell wonderfully nutty - swirl the pan frequently to prevent burning. Once the sputtering sound suddenly comes to a halt, your butter should be nicely browned. Add 1 teaspoon of the ground black pepper and allow this to cook momentarily before removing from the heat. Set aside while you cook the pici, which you do so by boiling in generously salted water for 4-5 minutes depending on how thick you’ve rolled them.

8. Once the pici is al dente, put the brown butter back on a low heat and add the pasta directly to it. Toss well and add a splash more pasta water to create a base for the cheese emulsion. Add the finely grated Pecorino Romano by the handful and quickly agitate the pan, stirring, whirling and tossing vigorously to create a creamy sauce. Add pasta water as needed if this feels too thick and coagulated, or if you add too much you can add some extra grated Pecorino to thicken.

9. Serve immediately and enjoy!

PS if you’re not so familiar with this series, here are a few of the most popular recipes so far.

Greek salad with whipped feta

Mozzarella in carrozza

Fried manchego with romesco

If you’re looking for all 13 episodes, I have a highlight on my Instagram and a collection on TikTok for your browsing pleasure!

The Recipe

Serves 2-4 (small or large!)

Ingredients

• 1/4 cabbage, sugarloaf or green/white

• 1/2 fennel, reserve the fronds

• 1/2 large pink lady apple, or 1 whole medium sized apple

• 1 small bunch of dill - a few stems

For the garlic mayo

• 1 egg

• 1-2 garlic cloves (to your preference), grated/minced

• 1 tbsp (15ml) white wine or balsamic vinegar, or lemon juice

• 220ml neutral oil, I use grapeseed

• Salt

For the dressing

• 3 tbsp garlic mayo

• 2 tbsp Greek yoghurt

• 1 tbsp white balsamic vinegar

• S&P to taste

Method

1. Start with making the garlic mayo. To do this with a stick blender, add an egg, the vinegar, the garlic and a pinch of salt to a container that’s large enough for the stick blender to fit in the base. Pour the oil on top and let it settle for a moment.

2. Place the stick blender flush to the bottom of the container, so the egg is covered by the blades. Run the blender for several seconds without moving it until you can see it starting to emulsify, then start to gently lift the blender up and down to combine and emulsify everything until you have a smooth mayo. This whole process should take about 30 seconds!

3. If you’re using a hand whisk, add everything apart from the oil to a bowl. With a whisk in one hand and the oil measured out in the other, very slowly start to drizzle in the oil while whisking continuously until all of the oil has been used and you have emulsified everything to become mayo.

4. Finely shred the cabbage and fennel, and cut the apple slices into matchsticks - add to a large bowl.

5. Finely chop the fennel fronds and dill, and add to the bowl.

6. Add the dressing, season to taste with salt and pepper and toss very well to combine.

Sometimes on a Sunday, I’m invested in the cook. I am more than happy to dedicate the equivalent of a work day to a sauce slowly simmering away, or rolling fresh sheets of egg-rich dough, making compound butters, herb oils, a stock from scratch - all in the quest of a good meal at the end. Other times, I just truly can’t be arsed.

And while sometimes I CBA, I always want whatever I make to be delicious.

This is a wonderful CBA pasta - combining the classic flavour combination of pumpkin and sage, adorning with dollops of stracciatella (the inside of what you would find in a ball of burrata), before adding a lil toasty walnut pangrattato to add a wonderful nuttiness and crunch. The beauty of this dish is that it is mostly handled in the oven. We aren’t blending, we aren’t watching a stove top and stirring occasionally, we are simply throwing it in the oven and saying see ya in an hour love.

The pasta of choice is rigatoni. Rigatoni always gives big CBA energy. Why? Because it’s an excellent shape that will become an edible barrel of sauce in literally any application. It doesn’t have to work hard at anything, because it will always excel at life. Think you could use penne instead? THINK AGAIN. Nothing compares to queen Rigatoni.

So let’s break it all down. First pumpkin is roasted with some aromatics until super soft and slightly caramelised. We throw in lots (and I mean lots) of pasta water, some butter for good measure and of course the pasta. The sauce is thicker than what we’d get if we blended here, but the natural texture of the pumpkin makes this feel more substantial and hearty, perfect for a cosy evening in - admittedly it’s quite wintry but if you’re in the S hemisphere like me and copping as much rain as we have, it is suitable for eating on the couch to escape the bad weather, too.

The making of this dish IMO is the addition of stracciatella. The creamy, cheesy inside of a burrata adds a coolness to the palate and becomes part of the sauce as the residual heat sets through. I love how easy stracciatella is to make at home and I’ll include the details below, but if you’re Australia-based and looking for a good store-bought option, I love this one from That’s Amore Cheese (not spon!).

Finally, the walnuts. Now for full disclosure, I went back and forth between hazelnuts and walnuts for this dish for quite some time and eventually went with the latter. I just cannot get around hazelnuts in a savoury application. Consider it a personal ick of mine, but I find it adds a sickly nuttiness that I just really, truly detest.

They are also more expensive than walnuts (roughly an extra $5/kg from a quick search), but of course if you are a fan of hazelnuts, sub accordingly. I like to take the toasting pretty far here, on the brink of burning. We want to depart from that raw flavour of walnut entirely - but proceed with caution because similar to an avocado, turn away for a second and it’ll be overdone.

Pssst - If you love the flavour combo of this dish but are looking for something a little more involved, check out this recipe for creamy pumpkin with brown butter, sage and hand cut fettuccine.

The Recipe

Serves 4

For the sauce

• Approx 750g Kent pumpkin or your preferred variety

• 4-5 garlic cloves, smashed but left whole

• 1 shallot, cut into 1/8 lengths

• 2 sprigs of fresh sage

• Extra virgin olive oil

For the stracciatella

• 1 ball buffalo mozzarella

• 250ml heavy/thickened cream

• Salt, to taste

To finish

• 1/4 cup raw walnuts

• 360g rigatoni

• 50g unsalted butter

Method

1. Start by preheating your oven to 190c/170c Fan forced/375f.

2. Cut the pumpkin up into cubes, leaving the skin on. Arrange in an oven-proof dish or baking sheet.

3. Nestle the shallot and garlic in and around the pumpkin, as well as the sage.

4. Drizzle liberally with olive oil, and season with a little salt.

5. Use your hands to toss it all together and coat the pumpkin with the oil, then roast for approx 60 minutes or until the pumpkin has softened and broken down, and it is ever so slightly caramelised.

Stracciatella

1. While the pumpkin is roasting, make the stracciatella.

2. Tear the mozzarella into small pieces and add to a bowl.

3. Pour over the heavy cream and stir to combine.

4. Season to taste with salt, then cover and refrigerate until ready to use.

Walnut pangrattato

1. Grind the walnuts in a mortar and pestle (or blitz to a rough crumb in a food processor).

2. Add to a completely dry frying pan and toast gently over a lowish heat until very toasted and super nutty in smell. Make sure you move the walnuts around in the pan frequently to avoid any hot spots.

3. Remove from the heat and decant from the pan quickly so as not to burn/take too far, and set aside.

Finishing touches

1. Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil, salting generously.

2. Cook the rigatoni until al dente.

3. With the pumpkin now out of the oven, add the rigatoni to the pan along with the butter and lots of pasta waster. Start with 1/2 cup of pasta water and add as much as a cup - we want this to disperse the pumpkin into a sauce so judge by eye here.

4. Stir and toss this all vigorously, allowing the butter and water to emulsify with the pumpkin until the broken down flesh coats the pasta.

5. I like to serve this family style as pictured - drop big dollops of the stracciatella all over and finally sprinkle with the toasted walnuts.

Happy Sunday friends! And happy new year! I hope 2025 has been good to you so far. I have had a little unplanned break since returning from London - so thank you for your patience while I have been reacclimatising and settling back into the swing of things.

I’m not sure about you, but I’m not usually one to set New Year’s resolutions. I don’t like the pressure of a resolution, and the often all or nothing mindset that typically goes with it. This year instead, I’ve set out some intentions: be more present, try to let go of things that aren’t serving me, prioritise my health - that sort of thing. So much changes in a year, and I like to think these intentions will adapt and evolve with me as I do, too.

Speaking of things that aren’t serving me - I do have some news. This week I resigned from my job. If you didn’t know already, in addition to pasta making, I have been working in tech and have been on maternity leave this past year. Everything I produce for no regretti spaghetti has been largely done in my free time, and I am excited to say that 2025 is the year where it’ll be my sole focus and my business. It’s exciting and terrifying and I have no idea what the year ahead holds - but it feels like such a positive start, and I’m thrilled to be able to have the opportunity to work for myself.

Onwards and upwards - and with that, onwards to today’s recipe.

Tagliatelle al friggione - a delicious, 2-ingredient sauce and the perfect, vegetarian alternative to ragu. Let’s get into it!

One of my favourite things about travelling is learning about new foods, trying new things, building alternative perspectives on dishes/cuisine/produce and all in all gaining a huge amount of inspiration to take back home to my own kitchen.

When we were in Bologna in December (take me back!), we got to enjoy a plethora of culinary delights that hail from the beautiful Emilia-Romagna region. You may not realise it, but many of the lovely Italian foods we enjoy outside of Italy actually come from this region: Parmigiano Reggiano, prosciutto di Parma, mortadella (the queen), tortellini, ragu alla Bolognese, aceto balsamico - it’s quite the CV if you ask me. From pastas to cheese, cured meats and local fried bread - the food from Bologna and the surrounding region was outstanding.

I mentioned in my December round up that we did a food tasting tour in Bologna (I’ll link it again here for anyone interested), and one of the highlights for me was walking through the streets of the Quadrilatero (an area of street markets right in the historic centre of Bologna), and popping into various shops to pick up a lunch of cured meats, cheese and accompaniments. We took our haul to the oldest osteria in Bologna (Osteria del Sole), ordered a glass of Pignoletto and laid everything we had bought out on our table, ready for lunch. One of those items was friggione.

Friggione is a traditional Bolognese dish comprised of two main ingredients: onions and tomatoes. It’s humble, “peasant” food at its finest, and its beauty lies in the way its cooked - which is slowly, over a low heat, for quite a long time.

The first known recipe dates back to the late 1800s and traditionally it’s served as a side or antipasto - with meats, or more often eaten with some lovely fresh bread, which is how we had it. However our guide Fede told us that nowadays it’s also often served with tagliatelle instead of ragu.

My interest = piqued.

As a side served on some crusty bread, I thought it was delicious. But as a sauce for pasta? Next level. Immediately I was filled with nostalgia for my dad’s pasta with tomato sauce, which like most Med/Middle Eastern parents is made with an abundance of onion. The slick almost greasiness from the olive oil is an essential part of this dish - the texture is jammy, lightly dressing the pasta, with mouthfuls of caramelised onion and tomato nestled between ribbons. The flavour is deep and rich, sweet but savoury. It’s everything I want from a pasta sauce and my idea of the perfect, Sunday cooking project.

The Recipe

Serves 4

Tagliatelle

• 1x batch of my master dough

Friggione

• 1kg white or brown onions, halved and finely sliced

• 2 scant tablespoons sugar

• 6 tablespoons olive oil

• 2 x 400g cans of whole peeled tomatoes, juices strained but reserved

For the pasta dough

1. Place the flour in a mound on your work surface and make a well in the centre. Pour the eggs into the well and using a fork, slowly begin to whisk until the yolks and whites have come together.

2. Start incorporating a little bit of flour at a time, whisking vigorously until you have a thick custard-like consistency.

3. Switch to a bench scraper, starting in front of you scoop up some flour from the outer edge and flip it over the centre. Use a chopping motion to cut the flour into the eggs. Repeat, moving around all sides of the flour.

4. Once you have a shaggy dough, use your hands to press into a ball. It might be a bit crumbly at first but keep going, and once you can see and feel a ball form starting to take shape, it’s time to knead.

5. After 5 minutes of kneading, cover the dough in something airtight and let it rest for 5-10 minutes. This will allow the dough to rehydrate and the gluten relax.

6. Return to the dough and continue kneading for another 5-7 minutes. The dough should be smooth and elastic, and not sticky at all.

7. Cover the dough again and let it rest for a minimum of 30 minutes at room temperature before rolling and shaping.

8. If you need to leave your dough for longer, rest it in the fridge and bring it to room temperature before rolling and shaping.

Shaping the tagliatelle

1. Divide the dough into four pieces. Work with one at a time (keep the rest covered so as not to dry out) - flatten the piece with your hand or a rolling pin before passing it through the thickest setting on your pasta machine. Fold the edges in to create a neat rectangle that fits the width of your pasta machine, and run it through the thickest setting again and repeat until your dough is uniform in shape and fits the width of the machine.

2. Continue passing your dough through the machine, working through each thickness setting until you get to setting 6 on a Marcato atlas (typically fourth to last setting on most machines). If your preference is for a thinner pasta, go for it - but I firmly believe ribbons work better with a little bit of thickness, otherwise they’re prone for ripping while you try to twirl your way through a plate!

3. Take your rolled sheet and fold it in half, cutting at this seam to create two sheets roughly 25-30cm in length.

4. Dust each side of the sheets generously with flour and roll each end up to to meet in the middle.

5. Use a large knife to cut ribbons at 7-8mm intervals.

6. Set aside in a nest on a lined baking tray until you’re ready to use.

7. Repeat the process with the remaining dough.

For the friggione

1. Place the sliced onion in a large bowl, sprinkle with 1 scant tablespoon sugar and cover with water. Allow this to sit for 30 min, then change the water and add the remaining tablespoon of sugar. Set aside for 30-60 minutes.

   NB: This step might seem long winded and an extra time investment, but it helps the tomatoes become deliciously sweet while they cook.

2. Drain the onions. Heat 5 tablespoons of olive oil in a large pan and add the onions. On a low heat, allow these to cook down slowly over 2 hours - covered. Check on them frequently and stir. If they seem to be drying out you can add a splash of water. You don’t want them to brown, just soften slowly.

3. Remove the lid and allow the onions to continue cooking a 5-10 minutes, allowing any excess liquid to evaporate.

4. Next add the whole peeled tomatoes and 2/3 Australian cup (around 240ml) of the strained juices along with 1 extra tablespoon of olive oil.

5. Partially cover and cook for another 1.5-2 hours, stirring frequently to avoid any hot spots in the pan. Season to taste with salt at the very end.

Finishing touches

1. Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil and season generously with salt.

2. Cook the tagliatelle for 2 or so minutes or until al dente, then transfer with tongs directly to the friggione, while taking some pasta water with it.

3. Toss to marry before serving. Preferably with some good quality Parmigiano Reggiano.

A humble dish that is pure nostalgia for me. Gigantes plaki is a Greek dish of baked butter beans. Typically you soak butter beans overnight before cooking, however this version utilises the very useful tinned variety to speed up the process.

The versions I ate growing up were always made with just tomato, however more recently I started adding in capsicum/bell peppers to the mix. I love the texture it brings, not breaking down as much as tomato alone does, and it adds a lovely hum of vibrancy to the dish.

This is a favourite lunch staple of mine, it keeps really well as leftovers and is the perfect meal with a huge dollop of Greek yoghurt and some lovely bread to mop things up. If you want my opinion on what truly makes this dish - it’s the addition of fresh dill you stir through right before serving.

The Recipe

Serves 6-8

Ingredients

Read more