Spinach and sausage ravioli


Likely, the original impetus for this recipe would be horrified by what has been done to it, the result, though, was regardless — delicious.


Verily, all the cheeses were eschewed, not being on hand.  However, a Daiya pepperjack was used — completely alienating the result from it’s creamy, ricotta and cream cheese inspiration.


Only a passing glance was had as the boy consumed them near entirely…

Continue reading Spinach and sausage ravioli


Butternut ravioli with smoked gruyere


Redundancy is the greatest form of repetition.  Back to favorites, tweaked with the addition of the cheese, and simply assembled thereon with roasted squash and rosemary.

Topper was pinot grigio and butter, slightly thickened with starch, imbued with chopped kale and diced apple.

Butternut squash ravioli with caramalized onions and mushroom sauce

Esta é uma excelente refeição.

This is a superlative conjecture, a combination with slight resemblance to a pot roast, but less uniform, each element distinct and presenting identifiably, combining exquisitely.

The squash was cubed and roasted in olive oil, salt and pepper, then sautéed with a chopped tomato and only turmeric.  The filling was pleasant and unassuming, providing a pinch of sweetness and pungency.  It was folded into inelegant, hand rolled and bulky whole wheat noodles, that, together, provided a unimprovable tableau for the flavors of the succulent caramalized onions and rich, briny and earthy broth.

A very hearty, satisfying plate; outside of the caramalization and roasting of the squash, a very quick and simple compilation.

Continue reading Butternut squash ravioli with caramalized onions and mushroom sauce

Caramalized butternut squash and red onion ravioli

About a year ago, a local restaurant began serving a butternut squash tortelloni, a seasonal dish they re-introduced again, this year.

Unfortunately, they added prosciutto and enough salt to pickle a goat. But it was so good last year, we decided to recreate it, ourselves.

With no bias, surely, this is at least as good. Caramelized butternut squash makes anything delicious.

Continue reading Caramalized butternut squash and red onion ravioli

Butternut squash ravioli

A different filling would make this much better. 

The sauce was very simple and good:  Scallions sauteed in salted oil until they started to brown, then minced tomatoes, finely minced and washed calamata olives a dash of sugar and more olive oil, immediately removed from flame on addition.

The noodle was kept a little drier than the norm to help maintain form, rolled to a 7. 

The spinach, briefly bathed in a broth of browned, finely minced garlic, pinot grigio and miso (about 1/3 cup and 1 tablespoon) while the sauce was re-heated. 

After maybe 20 seconds, spinach was placed on the plates, topped with the ravioli, then the sauce and garnished with sliced red and orange peppers and minced raw spinach.

Served with these delicious rolls

(1/2 wheat flour) and a side spinach salad with sunflower seeds and blue berries, drizzled with tahini and grenadine.


Mixed mushrooms with Tofardonnay

Once more we took a whirl whipping up ravioli.  Jen picked up tons of tarragon so everything for this meal was laced with such and all that would have made dinner any better would have been a tarragon-lemon glace to finish. 

To start:  Simple spinach salad with sliced oranges and pears, topped with a cooked orange juice, garlic, tarragon dressing.

The ravi filling was also very simple, simply oyster and crimini mushrooms simmered down with a dash of chardonnay and a bit of ground pepper then topped with soy swiss.

The pasta surely was the finest ever assembled by the Crew and peculiarly, proportions  (which tend to be, uh, produced post preparation, predominantly) were painstakingly preserved – it was easy to work with and good texture.

Remaining with the unfussy theme, the sauce was also a snap:  Tofutti, chardonnay, water, tarragon and a few grinds of sea salt, black pepper and garlic.  (The leftover sauce continued to thicken and became a great veggie dip!)

The kids were not impressed and demanded more cheese. 

Those are gorgeous noodles! 

Sadly this cheese was not the cheese that pleased, and to their defense, it did gain a rather odd texture when cooked. 

Jared of course had thirds.


  • 2 Cups semolina flour
  • ½ cup plus 2 tbs. warm water
  • 2 tbs olive oil

 Squish it all together and beat the heck out of it for 10 minutes or more until it is noodle-y.  Coat with olive oil and set aside.


  • 1 cup orange juice
  • ¼ cup olive oil
  • 2 teaspoons chopped, fresh tarragon
  • 1 minced clove garlic
  • 1 pinch sea salt

Mix everything together in a pot and bring it to a boil.  Strain the dressing and refrigerate.


  • 3 cups sliced assorted mushrooms
  • 1 dash chardonnay
  • A few grinds black pepper

Sauté everything together just until the liquid evaporates.

Tofardonnay sauce

  • ½ cup tofutti
  • ½ cup chardonnay
  • ½ cup water
  • 1½ tsp chopped fresh tarragon
  • ¼ tsp ground black pepper
  • ¼ tsp ground garlic

Whisk everything together and cook for about 5 minutes until the sauce thickens a bit – start heating after dropping the raviolis into the boiling water.


  • Spinachi
  • Sliced orange
  • Sliced pear
  • Fresh tarragon

 Plate everything, top with the dressing and drop some fresh tarragon leaves atop.


Start a big pot of water to boiling.  Cut the cheese or cheese type substance into 1 inch squares.  We used slices of soy swiss and used two squares per ravi.  Prepare a long flat surface, dusting with flour.  Roll out a noodle to the thickness of preference – we roll to 8 (first, 1, then 3, then 5, then 8).  Place the noodle on the floured surface and spoon teaspoonfuls of mushrooms onto half the length of the noodle, leaving about ½ inch between heaps.  Top with the cheese then fold the noodle in half.  Starting at the back (at the fold) of the noodle, start pressing the sides together, forcing the air forward and out, then slice up the raviolis!  Place the fully formed foods on a floured plate and continue until filling and/or noodle are exhausted.  (For the cheese ravioli, obviously omit the mushroom and add a little more cheese.) 

Drop a couple dashes of olive oil into the pot of boiling water, followed by the ravishing ravis and cook for about 5 minutes.  Spoon onto a rack and let sit for half a minute to dry, then serve.


Ravioli on a whim

We decided we wanted to make something special for super bowl sunday dinner because we like to eat and we think we’re special. 

Planning is not one of our pronounced attributes and we have eschewed shopping of late (and especially on a sunday evening),  so as the sun began to set we were left blankly bobbing at the limited options:  A few potatoes, a few sweet potatoes, a few onions, a bit of parsley.. 

Necessarily, we kneaded a noodle.

For the filling, we thinly sliced our last four little onions, mashed two huge yams and minced four cloves of garlic.  Isn’t it odd that people principally possess the pernicious predilection to ply onions into those pesky little squares?  I hate cutting onions into little squares.   Empirical evidence exposits thinly sliced onions have a far finer flavor, anecdotally…  So sqaure onions are herewith banished and forthwith they shall be thinly or also thickly sliced depending on my demeanor, much, likely, to the irritation of everyone else as, certainly, is this confusing, wayward obloquy.

After settling down with a glass of Concannon Merlot and The Be Good Tanyas, I bronzed the thinly sliced onions (annoying, isn’t it?), adding the garlic for the last couple of minutes.

The Concannon Merlot is not nearly as good as their petite syrah (is there a more underappreciated variety?);  the The Be Good Tanyas are always good.

Bronzed onions and garlic were flung with the smashed yams, dashes of cayenne, parsley, about a tablespoon of crunched tarragon and a large-ish pinch of sea salt.

The noodle was a bit tricky, sticky, mandating multiple presses but eventually enough additional flour was worked in (I suppose) that it became more manageable.  However, I had a brief panicked flash back reminding me why I avoided making noodles for so long — my first effort resulted in a gooey, gummed up disaster and the few ravioli that did survive to pot exploded into a stew.  (A little seasoning, veggies and voila!  Wonton soup!)

All but one of these survived and we sautéed the finished fodder in a glaze contrived from a half cup chardonnay, quarter cup orange juice, a few slices of olio, two minced cloves of garlic and about a half teaspoon ground tarragon.  We reduced the glaze for about 5 minutes and I added around a quarter teaspoon corn starch to tighten it up a touch.

Neighbored with broccoli and posed with a pinch of pretty parsley:

I thought the orange juice and tarragon in the glaze made it too sweet and tarragonny but Jen thought it was fine as designed.

The ravioli themselves were fantastic and best of all there are leftovers.  So in a couple days we will have a ravioli redux and try a slightly different sauce.