All that is good comes wrapped in Pasta

“Nonna, hai fatto i cappelletti?”

I whispered 23 years ago as I urgently gestured for my grandmother to come join me down the narrow hallway towards her bedroom so that the critical presence of cappelletti on the lunch menu could be confirmed.

Growing up in Hong Kong and travelling to Italy every summer to visit my paternal grandparents (hereinto referred to as Nonno and Nonna) once a year, meant that a countdown would start in the days leading up to our inter-continental trip – of course we were excited to see our Nonni, but priorities are priorities and let’s be honest, it was also a countdown to “cappelletti”.

My Nonna would have to reassure us repeatedly that yes, she had gotten up at 5 in the morning two days in a row to hand-wrap a secret mixture of mortadella, parmesan and nutmeg into tiny pockets of fresh pasta, which would then be dropped into a chicken broth that had been brewing for days.

You have been to an “italian” restaurant before, most of you have had that plate of ravioli served where, each “dumpling” is the size of your palm, a mini dollop of non-descript filling wrapped in thick chunky pasta and buried under a gluppy mountain of cream sauce. This, is the opposite of that.

My Nonna’s cappelletti are the most delicate jewels of complex flavours waiting to be delivered to your senses in tidy individual servings not much bigger than the tip of your thumb.

She has allowed me into her kitchen as student, observer and taster since I was old enough to stand. While my sister would watch TV with our Nonno in the next room, my Nonna and I would chat over bubbling tomato sauce and artichokes simmering in white wine and garlic. Though I have been making several of her recipes over the years; lasagne al forno, melanzane alla parmigiana, gnocchi al pesto, cappelletti have always been her domain.

Everyone had an assigned role in the kitchen for other dishes: my Nonno was the designated cheese grater, we were allowed to roll out tagliatelle, wash salad leaves and fruits… but, cappelletti always mysteriously appeared from my Nonna’s break-of-dawn handiwork.

As we embark on this trip through the Eurasian continent and hope to meet others who will share their families’ traditions with us, I wanted to start with one story from home.

This dish is the symbol of my grandmother’s love for us and though we were separated by miles for most of the year, the flavours and emotions provoked by this dish could only be encountered by reuniting with my Nonna herself. It was her unique call for us to come home and the comfort she created by knowing that a steaming plate of cappelletti would be waiting everytime we got off the flight from Hong Kong to Italy.

Overtime it has became too labour-intensive of a dish for her to make for us anymore; her rule is to only make them while standing up. It has taken me 30 years, but we finally made them together for the first time, sitting down.

I hope by sharing this recipe it brings you and your family as much joy as it has brought mine.

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CAPPELLETTI \ˌka-pə–ˈle-tē\

The origin of Cappelletti
As most regional food wars go, the exact origin of cappelletti (in some areas also called tortellini) remains contested. The general consensus is that they come from the region of Italia Centro-Settentrionale. These particular ones are from the town of Carrara in northern Tuscany. 

Makes about 200 cappelletti or 6 servings as a primo piatto 

Fresh Pasta

2 eggs
200g unbleached all purpose flour, plus 50g more for kneading

Put the flour on a clean surface and make a well in the middle, add the eggs. Using a fork, beat the eggs and start mixing the flour into the inner circle of the well. The dough will slowly come together in a shaggy mess as you add the flour. 

Start kneading the dough while adding more flour or water depending on the stickiness or dryness of the dough. Once the dough is a cohesive ball, continue kneading for a few more minutes, it should be elastic and a little sticky. Continue kneading and dusting with flour whenever necessary. Wrap the dough in a towel and set aside for 20 minutes at room temperature while you prepare the filling. 

Note: Popular books like The Silver Spoon usually recommend 1 egg for every 100g of flour, I find using some water instead of a heavy proportion of eggs actually creates a more delicate result, the more often you make pasta, the more you will find the correct proportions for you. 

Ripieno (Filling)

100g Prosciutto (some crudo, some cotto)
2 thin slices of mortadella  
200g cooked chicken breast 
1 cup of grated parmesan 
1/2 tsp grated nutmeg
2 eggs

Finely chop or put in a food processor, the prosciutto, mortadella and chicken. Then mix in the parmesan and nutmeg before adding the eggs one by one until you get a thick paste-like consistency. 

Making the Cappelletti

Gently knead the pasta dough when you are ready until it feels elastic again, but do not overdo it. 
Slice the dough into 4 portions and take one piece. Roll it through your pasta machine, starting from the thickest setting and repeat each thickness setting until you get to the thinnest setting for each layer. Repeat with the other portions. 

Lay out your thin pasta sheets onto clean kitchen towels to keep them from sticking, you can dust them with some flour if you like. Cut out little squares, about 3cm x 3cm. 

Put a small pat of filling in the middle of each square (I just use my fingers) and join two of the corners to form a small triangle. Take the two long ends of the triangle and join them together around the mound created by the filling to form a tight little pocket. 

Be stingy with the filling as you do not want the cappelletti to burst open when they are cooking.

Lay all the cappelletti onto a tray as you are making them to avoid any sticking and allowing them to dry a little.

Once you are done making all of them, you can safely freeze them in individual trays for future use or cook them immediately.

To cook: Bring a large pot of water to boil and add some salt, carefully drop in the cappelletti (you can do the same for frozen ones) and stir gently occasionally to make sure none are sticking to each other. Once they all float the the surface, they are ready. With fresh pasta it only takes a few minutes.

To Serve

Our favourite way of serving this is cappelletti in brodo, with home-made chicken broth and a light dusting of grated parmesan cheese, but you can also serve it with a burro & salvia sauce (toss them in melted butter and a few leaves of sage until just coated) or also a panna & cotto sauce (warm up some cream in a pan with cubs or small shreds of prosciutto cotto then mix with just cooked cappelletti)