I had this whole post written out, and I had reread it, and to be honest, it was really terribly written in the way only I know how to do. As is exemplified yet again in this newly written post’s very first sentence. Run on, too many commas, self-centered, and, and, and.

fresh pasta 1

And. Then I read this article in the most recent NYT Magazine (the food issue, huzzah!). It was beautifully written, the kind of writing that is completely out of reach for someone like me. I do well with honesty, and I do well with emotion, but my words are never eloquent or useful or touching. I don’t TOUCH people with the words I write, which is ok. To be honest, I never hoped to touch people with the words I write. That’s not one of my life goals, as it must be for some people (english majors all I’d imagine).

fresh pasta 2

What I have hoped before, and continue to hope, is that I can touch people with what I want my life to be. Who I want to be and what I create. The things that didn’t exist in the world before I made them exist.

fresh pasta 3

What does all this have to do with fresh pasta? Well, not everything, but not nothing either. It’s just that, I hope you read this post and you make this pasta, and you throw it into a big pot of boiling salted water on a cloudy evening. And I hope you top it with some homemade meat sauce that bubbled quietly on your stove for several hours.

fresh pasta 4

I hope that you pour yourself and any surrounding loved ones a glass of wine and I hope the steam from your dinner touches the wine glass for a moment and I hope you slide your finger over the condensation. I hope you eat this pasta with freshly grated cheese and I hope it makes you happy. I hope it brings you happiness like it brought me happiness, the kind of happiness food alone can bring you. Which isn’t a life-changing or complete happiness. But it’s warm and soft and I hope you sit down and have some. These are my immediate hopes for you, reader. And that is how I hope my writing touches you, by spurring you into an action that results in something that gives you that feeling.

fresh pasta 5

That happiness, followed by, you know, maybe love and friendship and companionship and children and a satisfying career and health and many moments of feeling alive. But with fresh pasta all along the way.

fresh pasta 6

And I promise that’s the last of my heartfeltedness today. Next post, back to my EMOTIONS and SPILLING THINGS and ISN’T LIFE A MESS?

Homemade Fresh Pasta
from the INTERNET

2 cups flour (i used 1 cup all purpose and 1 cup whole wheat pastry)
3 eggs
1/2 tsp salt

Mound the flour on a clean surface and make a well in the center. Crack the eggs into the well and beat them with a fork without disturbing the flour. Add the salt and mix. Gently incorporate the flour into the egg mixture with a fork (or your hands). With your hands, blend mixture until it becomes a dough. Knead until the dough is smooth, about 7 minutes. Let dough rest for 15 minutes.

On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough until it is as thin as you want, no thicker than 1/8″ (and it should be much much thinner…basically just keep rolling until you want to throw the rolling pin out the window and then roll like 3 more times).  Cut the dough with a pizza cutter into 1/4″ strips (or however fat you like your pasta).

Cook the pasta in boiling salted water for 2-3 minutes or until al dente. See? That was not hard at all.


Author: katboda

Hey, cram it.

3 thoughts on “Noodling”

  1. This post made me decide to write, every day, on a post it, something simple in life that makes me happy, and stick it on the back of my bedroom door. #1: When starlings line up like little soldiers on a telephone wire or green street sign, and there is always one or two facing the opposite direction of the other gajillion.

  2. You’re a great writer! Many of your posts have made me laugh (which counts as both useful and touching) and reading about your exploits in the kitchen reminds me of my carefree grad school days when I had lots of time to cook and experiment – again, a moving experience of longing and nostalgia evoked by your words. And despite having a couple of degrees in literature, there’s no way I could write a blog as entertaining and eloquent as yours, so don’t sell yourself short! Keep those words flowing!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s