POSTMARK

Learning to Make Pasta from a Nonna in Bologna

Flour on every surface, a rolling pin older than me, and the slow truth that good tortellini cannot be rushed.

Fresh pasta on a wooden board
Fresh tortellini drying on the board.

Nonna Teresa does not measure anything, which is the first and most upsetting thing you learn in her kitchen.

Flour, eggs, a well on the board, and then your hands — that is the entire equipment list, plus a rolling pin she has used for fifty years.

The feel of the dough

Everything is done by feel. Too dry, keep working; too wet, a little more flour. The dough tells you, she says, if you bother to listen.

A few things I learned, in no particular order:

  • Use your hands, not a machine, at least once.
  • Rest the dough properly; impatience shows in the final bite.
  • Keep the offcuts. Nothing here is wasted.
You do not learn a recipe in this kitchen. You learn a pair of hands, and then you practise for years.

I make worse tortellini than she does, and probably always will, but I make them now — which feels like the whole gift.

A letter from the road.

An occasional note when there is something worth sending.