Ravioli Meltdown

We’ve established that I love pasta, and last year I decided I’d love fresh pasta even more.  Voice in the back of my head be damned, I bought a pasta maker.  I *would* use it, I decided.  It would *not* sit in the back of the pantry like the ice cream maker.

My little sister has a pasta machine of her own and she helped me make some last fall (BK was out of town, so I was carb-loading).  And…uh…not much activity since then.

But, last week I decided to make ravioli on Sunday when, I reasoned, I’d have plenty of time.  So I made the filling and then started on the pasta.   You just put the ingredients in the machine, it kneads them into dough, and spits pasta ribbons out through a little die.  Easy peasy!  I could just hear Martha Stewart singing my praises!

But, instead of coming out in ribbons, the dough got stuck.  The instructions told me to add flour to fix stuck dough.  So I did, but the same thing happened.  Added more flour.  Same thing.  More flour.  The dough was not even dough anymore…it was a crumbly mess.   Yet…S.A.M.E. T.H.I.N.G.

So I called Lil Sis.  She didn’t know.  I yell a string of curses.  At this point it was 8:30 and BK quietly said he was going to have a “snack” that seemed to look an awful lot like a full dinner.  Smart guy.

I dumped the dough and decided to make water pasta instead of egg pasta.  SAME THING!!!!  ARE YOU KIDDING ME????  One of my fingers was actually bleeding at this point from digging the stuck dough out.  It was 9:30.  I may or may not have let loose with more curses…everything got sort of blurry.

And then…I looked over and saw this screw-looking thing that I realized should be in the machine.  There are just no words here.  Did I really just spend over 2 hours messing with this stupid machine only to have left this rather large, hard-to-miss piece out?

As soon as I put it in, perfect ribbons of pasta come out.

Sigh.

But then I still had to make the %$#&! ravioli.  In the end, they were frozen for a better day.

On the way to bed, after it was all over, BK looked at me like he really wanted say that I shouldn’t let myself get so freaked out over this stuff, but then he just closed his mouth.  I love you, sweetie.

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