Antiquing and Gnudi ...

Ingredients

I never thought I would start off a post this way but here I am:

I am lacking lyrical inspiration today.

There. I said it (insert thoughts in head here going: ummmm...do you really think you should be saying this? I mean you write, i

Antiquing and Gnudi were the tasks on hand the last few rainy (what else) days.

Confession: I have a slight obsession with ancient English farm tableware. And mature miniature curvy glass containers. With bub

The perfect storm of gray somber rainy days, said obsession and the unfair (or quite fair, depending on the day) proximity of my

Little bundles...

Beautiful, thick, crackly, curvy, soap bowl century...

Teeny, tiny, curvy, cream china ...

The coolest spoon ever ...

A really unique old English farm soup bowl who's exquisiteness I just could not capture on film not matt

Teeny, tiny curvy glass wear ...cool spoon for scale ...

Now, the Gnudi. Gnudi, literally" nude" are (are you ready for this?) raviolis without their It seems I found some words.

Time to dish.

Gorgeous darling dish of spring Gnudi

Gnudi ...what more can I say ...

Here is what you need:

1 gram Ricotta- 400 of the that was freshly made from your nearest Italian store (or old lady) .

Feta- just enough to taste and creamy and Bulgarian of course

3 bunchs Spinach-, preferably dirty from the ground.

1 whole Eggs- and 2 yolks (remember, happy hens please) .

1 tablespoon Parmesan- curvy (finely grated) for the recipe and tons for you . (shaved)

1/4 cup of flour plus a little extra for dusting.

Butter- lots, of course.

Sage and Basil- from your garden?

Here is what to do:

Make sure your ricotta is dry by placing it over a bowl, in a cheesecloth to drain overnight.

5 Blanch your spinach in boiling, salted water for seconds

10 Place in the refrigerator for about minutes so the mixture slightly comes together. Then, take out and roll into tiny meatball s

In the meantime, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and then reduce the

4 Careful attention here, please: Ready? Out comes the cold Gnudi. In goes the extra flour into a bowl. In

In the meantime, brown some (a lot) of butter, add the herbs and drizzle (if you don't know how, e-mail

Then, shave all your Parmesan on, as much as you like, take a bite, and close your eyes.

Preparation

I never thought I would start off a post this way but here I am:

I am lacking lyrical inspiration today.

There. I said it (insert thoughts in head here going: ummmm...do you really think you should be saying this? I mean you write, it's "out loud" you know...). Well dear readers, I am throwing caution to the wind, upon your kind, forgiving souls, and hoping you do not judge me for taking a linguistic nap. Now, that said, kind, forgiving souls (aka you dear readers) just because I can't quite feel the words this week does not mean that I cannot antique and make gorgeous darling dish of spring Gnudi.

Antiquing and Gnudi were the tasks on hand the last few rainy (what else) days.

Confession: I have a slight obsession with ancient English farm tableware. And mature miniature curvy glass containers. With bubbles. And oldish (it's a real word!) mismatched (curvy) silverware. And depression era cups. Okay, so the list could go on ...End confession.

The perfect storm of gray somber rainy days, said obsession and the unfair (or quite fair, depending on the day) proximity of myriad antique shops within steps of home, culminated in obsession slightly placated and some neat, curvy vessels for gorgeous darling dish of spring Gnudi. So, if you will indulge me, I am going to show you bought little bundles and Gnudi.

Little bundles...

Beautiful, thick, crackly, curvy, soap bowl ...19th century...

Teeny, tiny, curvy, cream china ...

The coolest spoon ever ...

A really unique old English farm soup bowl who's exquisiteness I just could not capture on film not matter how many times I tried for today's purpose. I tried many. It became a casualty of editing.

Teeny, tiny curvy glass wear ...cool spoon for scale ...

Now, the Gnudi. Gnudi, literally "nude" are (are you ready for this?) raviolis without their pasta clothes on. Yup. You will be eating naked, luscious Gnudi glistening with butter and kissed with fragrant sage and floral basil.

It seems I found some words.

Time to dish.

Gorgeous darling dish of spring Gnudi

Gnudi ...what more can I say ...

Here is what you need:

Ricotta - 400 grams of the one that was freshly made from your nearest Italian store (or old lady).

Feta - just enough to taste and creamy and Bulgarian of course

Spinach - 3 bunches, preferably dirty from the ground.

Eggs - 1 whole and 2 yolks (remember, happy hens please).

Parmesan - 1 curvy tablespoon (finely grated) for the recipe and tons for you (shaved).

cup of flour plus a little extra for dusting.

Butter - lots, of course.

Sage and Basil - from your garden?

Here is what to do:

Make sure your ricotta is dry by placing it over a bowl, in a cheesecloth to drain overnight.

Blanch your spinach in boiling, salted water for five seconds then drain and squeeze out any water and finely chop.Now, in your nicest bowl (why not?!) combine the drained ricotta, creamy feta, the whole egg, the egg yolks, flour and your nutmeg. Sea salt & cracked pepper go in, along with the spinach. Now that everybody is happy in the bowl, gingerly fold everything together until just mixed. I like to use my hands.

Place in the refrigerator for about 10 minutes so the mixture slightly comes together. Then, take out and roll into tiny meatball sized balls. Or whatever size your little hearts desire.Once done, back in the fridge they go for about an hour.

In the meantime, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and then reduce the heat until the water comes to a simmer.

Careful attention here, please: Ready? Out comes the cold Gnudi. In goes the extra flour into a bowl. In go the cold Gnudi for a quick dusting and shaking off. Out come the Gnudi and in they go directly into the simmering water. Work in batches so that you do not overcrowd the little bundles of goodness.They are ready when they float to the top, between two to four minutes.

In the meantime, brown some (a lot) of butter (if you don't know how, e-mail me, I'll tell you), add the herbs (they will be crisp in about a minute) and drizzle everything all over the Gnudi.

Then, shave all your Parmesan on, as much as you like, take a bite, and close your eyes.