Hmmm ... so many pasta dishes to choose from! Why, this looks intriguing. Gnudi. What could be more gluten-free than pasta-less ravioli? It scuppers my Bionaturae scheme, of course, but those bags of Italian goodness will still be in the pantry in a few days' time. I am nothing if not capriccioso!
I see that the gnudi recipe requires fresh ricotta cheese and flour - another excellent way to put King Arthur Multi-Purpose Gluten-Free Flour through its paces. I wonder if it will work or if my little pillows will disintegrate in their cooking bath? Only one way to find out!
Wait a minute, what do I spy in this little textbox in the corner of the recipe? A procedure for making home-made ricotta? I have an an hour to spare before it's light enough outside to shovel last night's newly-fallen snow. Andiamo!
All I need is milk, cream, salt, and some fresh lemon juice. Oh - and 6-quart spaghetti pot.
[Noises off as an appropriate vessel is disentangled from the piles on top of the refrigerator and the wireless router goes crashing to the floor.]
I should probably construct my straining apparatus while I'm at at. Where did my cheese-cloth get to? Ah, here it is: still hanging up in the laundry room after my last quinoa-steaming session. I'll just line my best sieve and place it on top of my favorite steep-sided stainless bowl. There, that should do it.
Might as well squeeze out some acid while I'm at it. Finito: three tablespoons of fresh succo di limone safely strained into one of my cunning little glass prep bowls.
Allora. Let me just measure 2 quarts of whole milk and a cup of cream into my pot and bring it to a rolling boil. Mustn't forget to add a half teaspoon of salt! Gosh, this is taking forever. Well, at least I have my best long-handled wooden spoon to keep me company. I feel like one of those witches in Verdi's Macbeth.
[Contented humming, difficult to discern: possibly Funiculi Funicula]
I see I have reached boilage. I sure hope my pot doesn't bubble over. I'll get the lemon juice in there prontissimo and turn the heat down to simmer. [sigh of relief] Disaster averted.
[five seconds elapse]
Eeeewww. Ripugnante!
My milk has curdled into an unsightly mess. Well, I suppose that is what cheese-making is all about. The recipe says to continue simmering for two minutes, stirring all the while, so that is what I will do. Good thing my loyal spoon is as single-minded as I am!
[Sound of insistent electronic buzzer]
My two minutes is up. Let's give it an extra thirty seconds for buona fortuna and ... into the lined sieve we go!
[Splashing and spluttering: a curse or two as hot whey spatters in all directions.]
Now it needs to sit for an hour, draining and cooling. That gives me enough time to go and scrape the ice off the driveway and sidewalk. Where is my cappello and sciarpa?
[More noises off. Doors slamming and a muffled commotion coming from the general direction of the garage. An hour elapses.]
That was appalling! I must have a cup of tea. Think I'll give my formaggio a bit of a squeeze to get the excess moisture out. I see the curds have reduced in size and the whole mass has firmed up. It looks almost like, if not exactly like, two cups of ricotta cheese. Wow - that is pretty fantastico, actually.
Into the fridge to chill!
I really need to go to work now.
[More doors slamming after which a silver Element can be heard to cough and roar to life. Hours pass.]
Sono tornato! Let's see how my cheese is doing. Why, it tastes mild, fresh, and delizioso! Let's eat some before I make the gnudi. I just happen to have a bit of dark cherry-infused balsamico and orange blossom honey for drizzling. It will only be the work of a moment to toast some pignoli for added crunch.
Divino!
Che peccato, we seem to have eaten it all! Never mind, I still have my Bionaturae pasta for another day.
Merda - isn't that where this whole opera began?
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