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Egg yolk ravioli was a long obsession of mine ever since I discovered its existence during a Masterchef episode last summer. The boyfriend and I immediately looked up restaurants that served it, but results were slim and the few we found were priced at $10+ per ravioli. *cue sad groans*
The search was done, but that fire of desire burned ever so brightly.
Fast forward to this year! The boyfriend had an itchin’ to learn how to make homemade pasta. I made the decision to celebrate our Valentine’s/Anniversary with a homemade dinner and dessert night. So the gears turned and we were discussing how fancy we could possibly make it. It was around this time when I discovered Spoon Fork Bacon’s egg yolk ravioli recipe, and I knew that we HAD to try. Sure, we never made pasta before but this should be a piece of cake 😉
To make a long story short, we dedicated a day a week before our homemade dinner/dessert date to actually PRACTICE making pasta from scratch. We decided on making regular fettuccine style noodles to start. After a bit of misses, the boyfriend utilized his muscles to roll out a perfectly good batch of delicious pasta! He even found a great fettuccine alfredo recipe to go with it. Successful dinner!
So we went into the ravioli making with some confidence. The boyfriend was the designated dough maker/pasta roller and I was in charge of the delicate ravioli assembly. With circle cutter and egg yolk remover in hand, I was so ready.
I guess it’s here where you’d expect me to recall some disaster story or something, but unfortunately I’ll have to be boring and say that everything turned out great! None of my fears came true (no ravioli leakage during boiling, egg yolks separated perfectly, etc). The richness of the egg yolks were perfectly paired with the cheesy ricotta mix. So much love. The only thing we’d do different is to saute the raviolis in the browned butter a little quicker to prevent hard/crunchy edges. We made 8. Yes, we ate all 8 between the two of us. Doesn’t sound like a lot, but these suckers were as big as my palms.
It took 3 hours to complete and by the time we ate, it definitely wasn’t a candlelight celebration for us. I sat on a plastic chair while the boyfriend sat on the couch, our respective plates in hand. Eating was a very quiet matter (with a couple of murmurs and mumblings of “hmm! hmhm… good”). By the end of it we were just tired and covered in flour mixed with sweat. Oh, but was I happy? Oh, yes I was 🙂