Sometimes, when you’re bored and reduced to watching repeats of America’s Next Top Model (Cycle 12), things that you normally wouldn’t do seem like a really good idea.
This was one of them.
CHICKEN AND PANCETTA-FILLED TORTELLONI/RAVIOLI
Makes about 35
LOTS AND LOTS OF WINE: POSSIBLY MORE THAN YOU HAVE EVER DRUNK BEFORE
200g chicken mince
2 slices pancetta, chopped
1 tbsp roughly chopped parsley
3 tbsp light ricotta cheese
2 tbsp freshly grated parmesan
freshly ground sea salt and pepper
35 wonton wrappers for tortelloni
70 wonton wrappers for ravioli
Pour yourself a glass of wine, put the chicken mince, pancetta and parsley into a mini food processor and whiz until finely chopped.
Put the mixture into a bowl and stir in the ricotta and parmesan cheeses, sea salt to taste and lots of freshly ground black pepper.
Make sure everything is well combined.
Refill your glass, put a teaspoon of mixture in the middle of a wonton wrapper, dip your finger in a small bowl of water and wet around all four edges.
If you’re making ravioli, put another wonton wrapper on top and press all the edges together to make a tight seal, expelling any air as you go.
To make tortelloni, fold the wonton wrapper in half and press the edges together.
Fold the long edge up towards you and bring the two bottom corners together to make a cushiony semi-circle.
Dab one of these corners with water and press to seal. Do this 35 times.
If you decided to go down the tortelloni-making road, you’ll have had 85 glasses of wine by this stage.
Because, basically, the procedure is fucking endless.
You’ll also have a plateful of shapes that look nothing like the headgear worn by the Flying Nun but if you’re a person of a certain age and you’re drunk they will remind you of her anyway.
Seeing as you’re not allowed to lift anything heavy for another four weeks, get the person who is refilling your wine glass to fill a really big pasta pot with water and bring it to the boil on top of the stove.
Chuck in half the tortelloni/ravioli and simmer for about 4 minutes.
Fish them out with a Chinese strainer or slotted spoon.
Put the cooked tortelloni straight into a big shallow pot of barely simmering tomato passata (bought or homemade).
Weep because you decided to make your own passata but didn’t factor in that by this stage YOU WOULD HAVE LOST THE WILL TO LIVE.
Put the remaining uncooked tortelloni into the pan of boiling water and repeat the whole procedure.
Serve with grated parmesan cheese.
Seeing as I was as smashed as a rat and starving to death by the time I finished making these, I didn’t take a picture.
This is probably a good thing because they looked like the heads of flying nuns nestled in a sea of blood.
Extremely tasty though.
And seeing as this was an original recipe thought up by me, your Grandpa actually gave me a round of applause.
But I suspect this had as much to do with the fact that I was still upright as it did with the taste.