Wednesday, March 9, 2011
During one of my precious nights out a few weeks ago, I had the Gnocchi with Gorgonzola sauce at Malatesta in the West Village. I rarely order gnocchi as they are often defrosted lumps of goo, but I needed something to soak up the wine in anticipation of an early morning baby wake up. Surprisingly, they were amazing and reminded me that gnocchi can be spectacular when done right.
Coincidently, Rupal called me a few days later and suggested we try making gnocchi in my little kitchen that night. She was inspired by the recipe in this article:
She brought over some fresh eggs from an urban farming project she visited earlier in the day and after picking up some flour and potatoes, we were ready to go. There was something deeply satisfying about really making a meal from scratch. We riced the potatoes (more physically demanding than expected), kneaded the dough, rolled it out into little gnocchi snakes, and then cut them into little pillows. We laughed at the fact that we had bought six potatoes since we ended up with enough dough to feed 30 people. (See previous entry about being measurement challenged.)
The gnocchi weren’t perfect. I would add a bit more flour next time. But as we surveyed the mess of raw ingredients around us, we both felt ridiculously proud of our truly homemade meal and ourselves.