I'm always eager to learn about traditional local cuisine, which is usually prepared using the produce and specialties grown and made on the premises. This is especially true when you're on an island. I had heard about ravioli capresi once before, but I had no idea what they were.
So I brought my Home Cooked crew with me and decided to conduct a little filmed research on the ancient and traditional island recipes of Capri, taught directly by the locals, on their turf.
Here are her secrets.
For the ravioli dough:
500 gr (1.1 lbs) all-purpose flour
2 tbsp olive oil
500 ml (2 cups) boiling water
For the ravioli filling:
300 gr (1 1/3 cups) caciotta type cheese, grated
4 eggs
200 gr (1 cup) Parmigiano cheese, grated
Fresh marjoram
For the ravioli sauce:
Fresh tomato sauce
Parmigiano cheese, grated
Fresh basil
Extra virgin olive oil
Let's begin with the ravioli dough.
Place the flour in a mound on a flat, dry surface. I use my mother's wooden olive wood board; some prefer marble. Make a crater in the middle and pour the olive oil and hot water into it. Knead to obtain a compact, firm dough.
Break the eggs in a bowl and add the caciotta, Parmigiano cheese and the marjoram leaves. Work together with a fork, and refrigerate.
On your floured work surface, cut your ball of dough into 4 sections. Use a rolling pin to roll out the first quarter of the dough into a thin sheet, about 3mm (roughly 1/8 of an inch).
On half the sheet, place teaspoonfuls of the eggy cheese mixture, spacing the balls about 6 cms apart. Take the other half of the sheet and cover the first half. Proceed to separate the ravioli, cutting around each ball with either a ravioli cutter or a glass, with a diameter of roughly 2 inches.
Repeat this procedure with each of the remaining quarters of the dough.
Once you have finished making all your ravioli, place them on a kitchen towel without overlapping them.
Cook the ravioli in boiling water until they float to the surface.
Serve dressed with a simple fresh tomato sauce, a generous dusting of grated Parmigiano cheese, and a few fresh basil leaves. Uncork the chilled Falanghina and prepare to serve seconds.
Last image by lavandainterrazza
Oh yummm!
ReplyDelete:) thought you'd appreciate!
DeleteI am inspired. Grazie.
ReplyDeleteGrazie a te, cara! Sorry for the delayed acknowledgment of your comments, friends!!
DeleteI can smell them through the internet, what a wonderful experience, thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteHey, thank you! I love doing this to see the smiles on your faces :)
DeleteI adore them! My mother substitutes basil for the marjoram... Must have been great to be in Capri, off season.
ReplyDeleteSorry for the delayed acknowledgment of your comments, my friend!!
DeleteGrazie! I adore marjoram and am always looking for recipes that use it. Interesting use of cacciotta, too.
ReplyDeleteGrazie! I adore marjoram and am always looking for recipes that call for it. Interesting use of caciotta, too.
ReplyDeleteThese seriously cause an addiction...
DeleteI bet the marjoram gives these little beauties a distinct flavor. *And* the surroundings in which you enjoy them, of course...
ReplyDeleteIt does! The herb rules... Hey, sorry for the delayed acknowledgment of your comment!!
DeleteLovely place with tasty food...
ReplyDeleteIndeed! ;)
DeleteI love dishes like this and instructions from local cooks. These ravioli look and sound marvelous--marjoram and caciotta (on Capri--made from goat or sheep's milk?), what a lovely combo. Makes me want to pull up a chair and dig in, especially with a glass of Falanghina to go with it. Ken
ReplyDeleteYes, you said it. DIG IN!
DeleteSorry for the delayed acknowledgment of your comment...
What a wonderful article. The photos are beautiful, and the ravioli are tempting! Thanks!
ReplyDelete