Pasta Problem

It is not possible, in a Sydney restaurant of any reputation, to serve a dish made from dried pasta. Well, it's physically possible, but it's not something customers will accept. The standard is such that only fresh pasta will do, with the general expectation that most establishments will make the pasta in-house. And god knows we do. I can't count the hours I've spent hunched over a little stainless, manual pasta machine, cranking out sheets like some mad grinderman. ?Pasta,? an old sous chef of mine used to tell me, ?is a sweating job.? I've sweat over pappardelle and angle hair and linguine, raged at torn lasagna sheets, fretted over lopsided tortellini, cried for burst ravioli. Just thinking about the additional pressure that ?roll pasta? puts on my morning's prep list makes my respiratory system lurch into hyperventilation overdrive. Still, it's all worth the effort; evidently, as the customers get the best, the freshest product available.

That, actually, is an oversimplification. You see, fresh pasta is best when it is spanking new, but it is not necessarily a superior product. In the case of pasta, fresh is not always best. In fact there a quite a few times I'd love to be able to dish up to my customers dried pasta in the place of the fresh variety.



Technically,I should be able to have a dried pasta dish on my menu, regardless the reputation of my establishment. This is not a manifestation of laziness. Rather, dried pasta it's a different creature altogether. Confusing the two, fresh and dried, is akin to equating, say, tortillas to corn chips. The difference isn't exactly the same in its nature, but you get the idea. Italians, inventors of the idea, would be, frankly, confused at our confusion. In Italy the two are distinct foods: pasta fresca (fresh pasta), and pasta secca (dried pasta). Fresh pasta is thin and light and delicate, with slightly spongy texture which is, in part, a result of the inclusion of eggs in the dough. Dried pasta, on the other hand, is thick and robust and firm. Only dried pasta, made from high protein, high gluten durum wheat, and without eggs can really be cooked until it is, famously, ?al dente.?

In everyday Italian cookery, each type of pasta is used accordingly for it's flavor and texture. Sadly, somewhere along the lines, this distinction was not exported and the impression became, at least here in OZ, that the dried variety is an inferior version of the fresh stuff, and that serving it would not be unlike serving up instant mashed potatoes.



Try, however, to make proper carbonara with the delicate noodles you've just cranked through your machine. It's not possible. You really need a noodle that will stand up to a second, vigorous cooking in a pot with a bit of egg, bacon, and cheese. Dried spaghetti? No problem. Fresh linguine? Gluey mess. Want to replicate Fro?a tal- g?a?in (Maltese spaghetti omelet, well worth trying)? It's impossible with fresh pasta. Macaroni and cheese, for the love of god, is a gloppy mess without dried noodles.

Nevertheless, I can't serve my customers dried pasta; they think they are not getting their money's worth. Which means no rigatoni or fusilli or orecchiette. And it definitely means that I'll never get to put one of our family favorite pastas on the special board, as it calls for penne rigate which is tossed/sautéed with the other ingredients just before serving, giving it a bit of crispy bite here and there.

Kell's Red Pasta

We call this dish, my wife's invention, simply ?red pasta? as the majority of the ingredients are some shade thereof. Though we don't usually mess with the ingredients much, some diced and cooked chorizo (also red) would go well here.



500g penne rigate, cooked and drained
2 red capsicum, seeds removed, cut into thin strips
2 spanish onions, peeled and finely sliced
300g sundried tomatoes in oil, drained and sliced, oil reserved
200g parmesan cheese, shaved
50g pine nuts, lightly toasted
olive oil

In a large pan or heavy-bottomed pot on medium heat gently cook the capsicum and spanish onion in the oil reserved from the tomatoes. Cook, stirring often, until they are soft and sweet and have just begun to color. Add the tomatoes and toss, then add the cooked pasta, stirring and tossing to coat. Increase heat to medium-high. At this point you may need to add a touch of olive oil so that there is enough to coat the all the pasta. Cook, stirring constantly to prevent sticking, allowing bits of the pasta to fry a little. Add 2/3 of the parmesan, stir until melted, add the pine nuts, toss and serve, sprinkling the remainder of the parmesan over the top.