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The Story
There was a time, many years ago as a young kid, when I knew the people that sold us our food. I could walk to the orchard down the road for a box of fruit and veg, head off in my stroller with my nonna to collect eggs from around the corner, trade a bucket of loquats from the man two houses down. I knew the old lady who managed the counter at the cheese factory (and does to this day), I knew the butcher who made the best Italian sausages in town. I knew all of the staff at the wholefoods shops, reliably sneaking me a slice of salami as they filled our deli orders, and slipping me a chocolate at the checkout. It was a simple, beautiful time. Looking back, these experiences probably contributed to my love for food and cooking as much as time spent in the kitchen itself.
Sadly, not least for the wrinkles, a lot of time has passed since then. I’ve spent most of my adult life without any particularly close links to the people that sell me the produce that I celebrate. But then little Al and I started this blog. Suddenly we were part of a small but passionate community of people that love good food, and strangely enough we all share that same desire to shorten the degrees of separation between field and plate.
I was sitting at home one night, here on the other side of the country to my dear loquat man, chatting idly with Todd the greengrocer when all of this occurred to me. I’ve been shopping at his family’s Ziggys Fresh since I moved here more than ten years ago, but it took an incidental conversation about our blog for me to realise that a relationship with your grocer is still a real thing in 2020. Of course, I immediately thought of all of the odd ingredients that I’ve been desperate to cook with, and asked if he had any nettles. Three days later, after making some calls for me, there was a box-full on its way. So this recipe is dedicated to independent grocers. May we never buy our veggies sealed in plastic.
The Dish
From the moment that I started thinking about what exactly to do with my new nettles, I knew that I wanted to evoke a sense of earth and soil. Like taking a pleasant stroll through some quaint European countryside, but without actually getting stung by nettles. I thought of nuts and cheese making; wood-fires, root veggies, and brushwood. So our pasta dough this week is infused with liquid smoke, and shaped into leaf-like cappellacci, filled with ash-coated goats cheese, creamy mascarpone, and roasted walnuts. These are served with a beetroot purée and a cocoa-rhubarb crumb (imagine it crunching underfoot), roasted carrot tuile (like delicate leaf skeletons), teeny shimeji, sprouts of micro-tatsoi, and crumbled fried mint leaves. It’s a little tiny peek into the undergrowth! Don’t be intimated by the ingredients and elements; it’s made up of easy discrete components that you can prepare in advance. And we’re going to step you through it all!
The Pasta
So, the pasta. First up, you’re going to need gloves – they’re called stinging nettles for a reason. Note that you should avoid using nettles once they’re flowering (or ideally even starting to), as they may cause health complications at this stage in their life cycle, and will be hoarier and tougher. Pick off the newest leaves from the tops of the plants, discarding the stalks, and then boil for 2-3 minutes to neutralise that sting.
From here, you can progress much as you would for our spinach fettuccine or ravioli: purée the nettle, and add it to your well of dough ingredients, before combining it all into a ball. Once you have your dough rolled and cut (we use squares of about 70mm), mix together your filling and pipe a large grape-sized dollop into the centre of each piece of pasta.
To form into cappellacci, first fold the squares into triangles. Make sure that there’s no air trapped as you seal them, otherwise they might pop when boiled! Give the filling a poke on the side to form a small hollow, and bring the outer corners around this to meet; overlap them and press together firmly to seal in place. By keeping the overlapping pieces as flat to the board as you can (rather than perpendicular), you’ll avoid accidentally making a tortellone!
We decided on an asymmetrical leaf shape to go with the theme of the dish, but you can play around with the shape by adjusting how these tips overlap.
The Purée
The base of our plated dish is a simple, earthy beetroot purée. This is a boil and blitz job, topping up with water as required. Make it in advance, and store it in the fridge!
The Crumb
No undergrowth would be complete without a bit of crunch. This crumb has a wonderful bitterness, contrasting perfectly with the sweeter beetroot. Just boil and purée your rhubarb, stir in the cocoa, and soak your bread in it. Then roast until it’s crunchy enough to blitz. Another element that can be made well in advance.
The Tuile
Here’s a bit of fun. Reminiscent of delicate, dried out leaf skeletons, these are best made and plated immediately. Whisk the flour into the juice strained from your puréed boiled carrots, and then pour it into a hot oiled pan. It’ll fizz and bubble madly, so stand back. Once the bubbles are gone, it’s ready to be removed.
The Garnishes
Simply fry up the shimeji until golden brown, and the mint leaves until they turn a vibrant green (this will only take a few seconds). Make sure that you retain that cooking oil to spoon onto the pasta! The micro-tatsoi is served fresh.
The Final Dish
The most exciting part! You’ve done the hard work, and you’re ready to shape your own little glimpse into the undergrowth. If you’ve ever gotten down close to the ground, peered inside an old log, lifted a bit of bark, you’ll understand the slightly alien wonder that we’re trying to create.
Start by spooning a generous amount of the beetroot purée into a circle on your plate. About a centimetre of depth here and there will give you plenty to stand your garnishes up in. Next, sprinkle the cocoa-rhubarb crumb around messily (it’s supposed to be dirt after all)! Nestle the cappellacci on top, and spoon a small amount of the reserved oil onto each one, letting it pool in the hollows. Plant the mushrooms and micro-tatsoi in the purée, crumble the fried mint leaves about, and finally stand up that delicate tuile.
We semi-enclosed the cappellacci, to make it feel like you’re peering in through the foliage, but this is your chance for artistic expression, so get creative and enjoy yourselves!
As always, happy cooking and buon appetito,
– Al & Al.
Equipment
- Food processor
- Air tight container for resting
- Piping bag with medium round tip (alternatively, you can use a teaspoon)
- Pasta roller and cutter (if not using a rolling pin and knife)
- Pastry/pasta cutting wheel
- Oven
- Frypan
Ingredients
Pasta Dough
- 100 g 00 flour
- 80 g fresh nettle leaves picked from the top of the plant
- 40 g semolina
- 40 g light rye flour
- 1 egg
- 1/4 tsp salt
- 1/4 tsp liquid smoke hickory
Pasta Filling
- 30 g walnuts
- 60 g mascarpone
- 40 g ash coated chèvre (goats cheese)
- 10 g panko bread crumbs
- 1/2 egg
Beetroot Purée
- 400 g beetroot
- 500 ml water plus more as required
- 2 bay leaves
- 25 ml white wine vinegar
- 1 tsp black peppercorns
- salt to season
Cocoa-Rhubarb Crumb
- 2 slices sourdough bread
- 2 stalks rhubarb
- 1 tbsp dark cocoa
- 1 tbsp water plus more as required
Carrot Tuile
- 5-6 small purple carrots
- 10 g flour
- canola oil for frying
- water as required
Garnishes
- 50 g shimeji mushrooms
- 1 tbsp canola oil for frying
- small handful mint leaves
- small handful micro-tatsoi
Instructions
Pasta Dough
- Wearing a durable pair of gloves, pick the leaves from the tops of the nettle plants. These will be the newer, softer leaves. Boil in water for 2-3 minutes to neutralise the sting, before draining and puréeing in a blender or food processor.
- Form a well of flour with the eggs, oil, liquid smoke, and nettle purée in the centre, and then use a fork and your hands to gradually incorporate into a ball of dough. The moisture levels should be such that it’s soft without sticking to anything. If it’s too wet, add flour one tablespoon at a time.
- Knead firmly for 10 minutes, and then rest covered and away from direct sunlight and heat for 30 minutes.
Pasta Filling
- Roast the shelled walnuts in a 200 degree Celsius oven for 5-10 minutes, until fragrant. Allow to cool, and then grind into a paste using a mortar and pestle.
- Stir the walnuts through the other filling ingredients, and season with salt and pepper. Load into a piping bag with a medium round tip.
Cappellacci
- Pass the dough through the pasta machine on the thickest setting a few times, folding in half over itself in between each pass. Then step incrementally through to a thickness of 6.
- Use a straight-edged rolling pasta cutter or knife to cut out squares of approximately 70mm, and then pipe a large grape-sized dollop of filling into the centre of each square.
- To fold into cappellacci, first bring two corners together to form a triangle. Seal the edges, ensuring that no air is trapped.
- Next, depress the filling inwards slightly towards the corners that you’ve just joined, forming a shallow hollow. Bring the other two corners around this to meet; overlap them and press together firmly to seal in place.
- Transfer to baking paper lined trays, and refrigerate uncovered for up to one day before cooking.
Beetroot Purée
- Peel and quarter the beetroot, and add to a saucepan with the water, vinegar, peppercorns, and bay leaves. Boil until the beetroot is soft, and the water has halved, about 30 minutes. Note that you may need to top up the water as you go.
- Remove from the heat, discard the bay leaves, and blend in a food processor until smooth. This purée can be made a few days in advance and stored it in the fridge.
Cocoa-Rhubarb Crumb
- Roughly chop the rhubarb, and cook in a medium-sized saucepan with the water until soft, about 15 minutes. Purée in the food processor, and stir in the cocoa.
- If required, add enough water to make it runny, and then soak the sliced bread in it for 10-15 minutes, or until soggy.
- Drain any excess liquid and roast in the oven at 100-120 degrees Celsius for 40 minutes, or until it’s completely dry.
- Pulse into a crumb in the processor. If still sticky, return to the oven until crunchy. This element can also be made a few days in advance and stored in an airtight container at room temperature.
Carrot Tuile
- Boil the carrots in the water for 10 minutes, until soft, before draining and puréeing in the food processor.
- Strain through a cloth, discarding the flesh. Into the remaining liquid, whisk the flour, ensuring that it doesn't clump.
- Heat the oil in a medium-sized frypan on medium-high heat, and then pour in the liquid, working in two separate batches. The oil will spit, so be careful and consider using a splatter screen.
- Once all bubbles have disappeared, quickly and carefully remove using a spatula.
Garnishes
- Trim the shimeji into individual mushrooms, and fry in small batches on medium-high heat (around 30 seconds, until they begin to brown). Transfer to paper towels to drain.
- Fry the mint leaves in the same oil, noting that they’ll only need a few seconds before they’re ready. Remove as soon as they’ve turned a vibrant green. Retain the cooking oil.
- The micro-tatsoi is served fresh; trim it into small clumps of a similar height to the shimeji.
Plating
- Begin by spooning a generous amount of the beetroot purée into a circle on the plate; about a centimetre in depth.
- Sprinkle a small handful of the cocoa-rhubarb crumb across the purée, allowing it spill onto the plate here and there.
- Nestle the cappellacci upright on top of the crumb, and carefully spoon a small amount of the reserved oil onto each piece of pasta, letting it pool in the hollows.
- Stand the mushrooms and micro-tatsoi up in the purée, interspersed between the cappellacci, and crumble the fried mint leaves around the outside.
- Finish by arranging the tuile to enclose the cappellacci.
