Why Fresh Pasta Was Invented: Tagliatelle alla Bolognese

Called "La Grassa", Bologna is "the fat one" of Italy.  Animal fat that is, the saturated kind.  Nowhere else is food more unctuous, more savory and verging on gluttonous.  Ironically, the region is not known for the character of its wines, so you have to bring the barolo or amarone with you.   

As you head north in Tuscany and Le Marche the hills become steeper and composed of coniferous forests rather than arid and Cypress laden, then it begins to flatten out as you near Bologna and the heart of Emilia-Romagna.  Ecco the Po River Valley, a big stretch of pretty flat land unlike most of the boot.  Olive groves dwindle and are replaced by fields of corn, wheat and grazing land for cattle and swine.  This is the historical basis for the increased use of butter and lard for cooking in this region and further north as opposed to olive oil.  And not that it has always been wealthy, but there is a longer history of egg pasta than in the regions to the south, which produced factory made semolina and water pasta for the masses.

Of all the regions of Italy, Emilia Romagna is where fresh pasta is elevated to its highest degree of refinement.  Silky egg noodles and shapes like fettuccine, pappardelle, tortellini and cannelloni are dressed with rich sauces of pork, butter, cream (maybe ketchup) and inevitably topped with another of the area's great contributions to food, scratch that, to mankind, Parmigiano Reggiano.

So bolognese sauce is the essence of the region's cuisine, encapsulating all the elements I've just mentioned in one dish.  I could eat it all year, but the chill of mid Autumn stokes the appetite for hearty dishes like this one.  A sauce, yes, but not a runny one really...and a tomato sauce with meat in it is a misconception since it's the other way around.

Bologna, like so many italian towns, looks proper in the Fall when it takes on its most medieval appearance.  Something about seeing your breath, grey overcast skies against the stone and brick buildings, bare trees, street vendors roasting chestnuts, the smell of burning wood...

As you can imagine, there is no universal recipe for the sauce that all Emilians abide by.  Some recipes call for a bit of tomato paste and that's it, others for canned tomatoes, some use chicken stock while others beef, etc.  Everyone is sure their recipe is the just one, but nobody can say...the beauty of italian food and parochial uber-pride.  There is, however, a decree by the town of Bologna as to the width of Tagliatelle;  8 millimeters.  As you can see from the first picture I took some artistic license and mine are somewhere between tagliatelle and pappardelle.  

The last time I made this dish we pulled out a bottle of "Planet Waves" 2002 from Fattoria Le Terrazze that I'd been saving.  From Le Marche, it's comprised of 75% montepulciano grapes and 25% merlot.  They are kind of a cult producer, growing mostly montepulciano but blending some labels with international varieties, naming their wines things like Chaos and Visions of J.  Bob Dylan collaborated on some level for this wine and so his signature is on the back.

It was deep purple with aromas of mocha and dried fruit, a long finish and really smooth.  We were ready for another bottle in about 10 minutes.  The  pasta was rich with layers of flavor developed over time by cooking and deglazing repeatedly, and because it's on the salty side a tannic red would not be a good match.  Fortunately with age the tannins of this wine were soft and mellow yet it was full enough to hold its own against the fattiness.  Noice!

If you have time make a chicken or meat stock in advance because it will make for that much better a dish (I ain't kidding, and it's not a big deal to do).  You can also grind your own meats or have the butcher do it rather than buying it already ground in the package.  For the pork pick shoulder and for the beef chuck.

Serves 6

Ingredients:
2 lbs. ground beef, 20% fat
2 lbs. ground pork
1/2 lb. ground pancetta (if not, finely diced)
2 medium onions, finely diced
2 carrots, peeled and finely diced
2 celery stalks, finely diced
1 cup whole milk
1 cup dry white wine
2 tablespoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 tube or small can tomato paste
1 liter low sodium broth or stock (chicken or beef or a blend)
Salt and pepper to taste
Parmigiano Reggiano to taste

Egg pasta dough for 6, recipe follows

Bring the stock to a boil in a pot, then lower to a simmer.

After cooking the meats through and allowing them to brown
you get these nice bits

Add the olive oil and pancetta to a Dutch Oven or other heavy pot and bring up to medium high heat.  Let the pancetta cook so the fat is rendered out.  When it starts to brown add the other meats and turn the heat to high.

Cook, stirring occasionally until the meat is cooked through and the liquid has evaporated, 10 to 15 minutes.  Let it brown some, stirring more frequently now, and then transfer to a bowl.  Try to drain the excess rendered fat and discard it (be careful though while it's hot).

After removing the meat and excess fat add the mirepoix to
deglaze and pick up deep meaty flavor

Return to the pot to the heat, lowered to medium.  Add the butter, let it melt, add the vegetables and deglaze the brown bits stuck to the bottom.  Sweat the vegetables until they are soft but not yet browning, 5 to 10 minutes.

Add the meat back to the pot along with the tomato paste and stir to distribute it.  Let it cook a couple minutes until the paste turns a rusty color.  Deglaze with the white wine, and let most of it evaporate.  Add the milk and let it cook a minute or so, then add broth to just barely cover the meat.  Bring to a boil and then lower the heat so it simmers gently.



Let it cook uncovered, adding liquid periodically as it fully evaporates, for 2 to 3 hours.  It can be made in advance and then refrigerated or frozen for several days.

Looks like Manwich filling but it's a slightly different recipe

To serve, bring a pot of water to a boil and season abundantly with salt (like the ocean).  Cook the pasta 3 to 4 minutes until begins floating to the surface of the water.  Drain and reserve some pasta water.  In a frying pan heat some ragu and toss with the pasta, adding tablespoons of pasta water if it's too thick. Or drain the pasta and place in a large serving bowl, then mix in the ragu.  Garnish with Parmigiano Reggiano and serve in pasta bowls.      

Egg pasta for 6:
6 jumbo eggs
600 grams or about 5 cups 00 or AP flour

Mound the flour on a work surface and make a well about 8 inches in diameter.  Add the eggs to the well and scramble with a fork.  Using the fork incorporate the flour from the inner walls into the egg.  Be careful not to break the wall and lose the eggs before you have a fairly well composed mass of dough.  Put the fork aside when most of the wet and dry are mixed and form a rough ball.

Knead the dough for 8 to 12 minutes, adding flour conservatively if it's very wet and resting periodically, until the dough stretches and is supple and smooth.  Wrap it in plastic and let rest 20 to 30 minutes.

To make the tagliatelle, using a pasta roller or rolling pin roll out segments of dough until it's thin enough for light to pass through.  Cut it into a rectangle that's 10 to 12 inches long on one side (that'll be the length of the noodles).  Lightly flour the dough if it's sticky and roll it over itself from bottom to top.  Then take a knife and cut every 8 millimeters or thereabouts and unravel the noodles.  Form into little nests of about a serving apiece.  Lightly flour if you're worried about sticking.  Freeze it if you don't place on using it immediately.  To cook it later do not thaw--go from freezer to boiling water.