Radio Free Seattle

Sorry I’ve been incommunicado. I’m in Seattle working, and I’ve barely slept for the last ten days (until this morning).

I even learned a new word for when the first day of the load in melds with the next: Smonday.

I am pretty much spending today eating, so I’ll let you know how it goes. Meanwhile, [here's a pretty funny explanation of why your pancakes might suck](http://blog.kingarthurflour.com/2009/03/19/light-lemony-luscious/) from the always – a – chuckle PJ Hamel.

The 59th Annual Emmy Awards…

…is where I’ve been. That’s why you haven’t heard from me. I am neck deep in like 4 shows. I am halfway through a real post, but it’s just not there yet.

Here are a couple of pics of the new house for those of you that have been asking.

Exterior

Kitchen

Off the Face of the Earth

Wow, two weeks… well, I haven’t eaten anything worth mentioning in that time. I don’t have a kitchen, and I’ve been working like mad, so takeout sandwiches and lunch at the diner has ruled my realm. Lots of vitamin supplements, too, [since it's impossible to find anything both healthy and toothsome](http://omnivorousfish.com/node/121).

I’m going on a little fact-finding mission to the East Bay in May, but it seems likely that I’m going to remain on the East Cost for the time being. I want to stockpile money before I do anything too drastic…. I’ve become a creature of comfort… I admit it. Also, the tide of my career seems to have changed slightly, making it exponentially more interesting. And let’s face it, my job buys a lot of apple cider.

I’ve been considering the idea that the complaints I have with my quality of life have had a lot to do with apartment living, and, you know, they have houses in New York, too.

And, also, New Jersey. I know what you’re thinking: New Jersey? Yeah, well, there are good things about it, too.

I’m going wine tasting. In Virginia. More on that later.

Pumpkin Raviol

Jesus H Tapdancing Christ, I love apple cider. Apple cider, Benjamin Franklin is often quoted as saying, is proof that God loves us, and wants us to be happy. Ok, that’s beer, but really, I think I like hard cider better than beer anyhow. There is six pounds of swiss chard and four of lacinato kale in the fridge going bad because I have been working my nads off in the world of home improvement, and next week will be equally daunting in the interminable and often disappointing world of work.

But that’s ok, the pumpkin ravioli are ready, there are 5 dozen in the freezer. I didn’t take any pictures, like a dumbass, but I’ll walk you through the basics. Special thanks to Billy for making the rest of the ravioli while I cleaned up the kitchen.

The dough: Pasta is predicated on the formula of one egg, or 1/4 cup of water, per 1/2-2/3 cup of flour. Most people add salt, and some olive oil, although what oil contributes I have never been able to ascertain. Water can be a matter of economy- although that economy can become tradition- or a matter of gluten development. Ravioli like a stronger dough, unreachable when using high-protein eggs as a liquid source. I have seen ravioli made only with water, a tricky proposition, since, unlike bread dough, there are no yeast and rising forgiving anything left behind in the initial mixing. Want to know the truth? It’s a matter of taste. I think the egg pasta matches the richness of the pumpkin filling, so I use all eggs for this particular recipe. I have also seen ravioli made with dough whose only liquid was **yolks**. Once you have a little practice, you can make whatever you want. Starting with a mixture of eggs and water is probably a good idea. For 6 dozen ravioli, let’s say 4 cups (20 oz) flour, 4 eggs, ½ cup water and 1 teaspoon salt. Let me caution you here, again, not to add all the flour at once. Hold back ½-3/4 cup, it is much easier to knead in flour than to add water. If you’re making it by hand, which I recommend for your first five or six times, start with the flour in a mound (in a bowl, if you’re skittish) and make a deep indentation or “well” in the top. In small bowl, beat the eggs, salt and water together and pour into the well. With a fork or your fingers, stir in flour from the walls of the well, making a thicker and thicker paste until all the flour is incorporated. When dough is a more or less a cohesive mass, it should be dry to the touch. If it feels very wet, continue to knead in the remaining flour as needed. Knead until the dough becomes smooth, homogenous and elastic, about 10 or 15 minutes. Wrap in plastic and rest for at least thirty minutes in the fridge, until an indention in the dough doesn’t bounce back.

The filling: Anything used to fill pasta should be drained. I don’t care if you’re using peanut butter, there’s water in there you don’t need. Pumpkin is bad, but other squashes are even worse. I already gave you the recipe.

The technique: Cut your dough into 6 equal pieces; use a scale if you’re paranoid. Work with one piece at a time, keeping the others covered with a plastic wrap or towels. This is a great application for a pasta machine, where you’ll want to end up with a 5” x 30” rectangle. If you’re doing it by hand, use twice as much dough to make a 10×30 rectangle, and cut it in half to follow these directions. This piece of dough is going to make 12 ravioli, so scoop packed tablespoonfuls of filling 2-1/2 inches apart along the long side of the dough, 1” from the edge. Brush the surface of dough not covered by filling (including in between) LIGHTLY with water and fold the dough in half over itself, so you end up with 12 still-connected ravioli in a row. Press down along folded edge, up to the filling; then press in between ravioli. Finally, push any air out of the ravioli through the last open seam, then seal that seam. Cut the ravioli apart with a round cutter, pastry wheel or, my grandmother’s fave, a juice glass. Usually I do them square because I like the extra pasta while I’m eating them. Also, they’re faster and generate less waste than round varieties (though you can salvage enough waste for a small serving of fettucine when you’re done).

Now comes the fun part: the first time you do this, they’re going to stick to the table, no matter how much flour you’ve put on them. Loosen them with something THIN and METAL, like a bench scraper, icing spatula or even a butter knife. You could also work a piece of dental floss underneath them, but be careful not to tear them.

Obviously, this all assumes you’ve worked with pasta dough before, or at least some kind of dough. Don’t be skittish with the flour your first time. You can freeze them flat on cookie sheets lined with floured towels, once they’re solid you can put them in bags.

Listening: Watching a Law & Order rerun