It’s time to go back to basics, and it doesn’t get much simpler than flour, water, and onions. This week we’re tapping into our roots with the perfectly imperfect Calabrese fileja. Although we make all kinds of pasta these days, and tend to use egg doughs more often than not, a lot of the pasta that we made and ate growing up was just flour and water. In fact, most of the food that we enjoyed was really cucina povera, imported to Australia relatively unchanged from how it was cooked by generations before us back in Italy. For me, something about that connection always makes these dishes a little special.

As much as we love a light pasta dish, there is something incomparably comforting about a slow-cooked, thick tomato sauce. It’s been a while since we featured a good old ragu, so this week we’re cooking up a pot of short ribs. Nothing tricky, nothing fancy, just a nice long sit in the oven.

The Italian-Australian experience, and all that it brings with it, is really the only ‘Italian’ that I’ve ever known. My brother and I grew up with an Italian mum (first-generation Australian) and an English-Australian dad, spending most of our early years in the care of a thoroughly Calabrian Nonna who arrived in that rich 50s boom. To this day, the only Italian that sounds right to me is her comfortable, lazy southern drawl, and the only Italian-English accent that makes sense comes from that same familiar dialect.

We couldn’t let Valentine’s Day coincide with pasta day without creating something a bit special for our favourite person. My long-suffering better half, little Al’s lovely Ma, is the genius cake-extraordinaire behind Forty-Two Cakes. So as a little tribute to her, we’ve taken cake flavours and turned them into pasta!

This week’s dish is short and sweet, figuratively. Otherwise it’s long and savoury. Every now and then we get asked about cocoa pasta, so this week we’re sharing our go-to recipe for cocoa fettuccine, served with a mascarpone and walnut sauce, and topped with toasted buckwheat.

One of little Al’s favourite things is our weekend trip to the markets. We’ve got a routine now, that starts with a snack and a coffee – decaf macchiato for him, double espresso for me, followed by the butcher, deli, and wholefood shop, before finishing with the fruit and veggies at the grocer. Little Al talks about it all week and tells anyone who’ll listen.

Pretty much the only thing better than a plate of stuffed and pan-fried gnocchi, is a plate of bright purple stuffed and pan-fried gnocchi. This week we’ve made a light dough out of roasted purple potatoes, and filled it with creamy eggplant. Tossed through the sage-infused oil that we finished them in, they have a comfortingly subtle flavour, but with a bold hit of colour!

We had to do it. We had to make a festive season pasta. This week’s two-tone fusilli combines tomato and spinach doughs into hand-rolled twisty goodness. Served in a light nduja-spiced sauce, with crispy basil and sage leaves and cherry bocconcini, what better way to celebrate the closing out of the year? Pignolata, that’s how! To finish our dish we’ve prepared these usually sweet Christmas treats as savoury gold-coated baubles, and used them to dress our tinsel-like pasta. Because ‘tis the season.

This week we’re throwing back to the 80s! This spinach and ricotta rotolo was something that my Mum used to cook up for special occasions, back when béchamel was big. Or so I’m told. I was more a concept than a thing at the time, and I’m not sure that béchamel ever actually went out of fashion anyway, so take that as you will.

Sometimes we cook up the classics, other times we think: what would you get if you made sea anemones out of pasta, plated them into a rockpool, and made that rockpool out of margaritas? This week’s pasta is lime and tequila prawn sacchettoni, made with blue spirulina dough, and served in citrus salt enclosed pools of juniper-olive oil, dehydrated blood orange and lime, pippies, and fresh seaweed.