Spinach and ricotta was really my Nonna’s trademark pasta filling, stuffed generously into huge batches of ravioli and cannelloni. With a little Romano cheese, maybe some minced garlic, egg to bind it all, and salt and pepper. Simple perfection, and to this day my favourite filling. Well, this week, we’re turning things inside out.

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.

This week we’ve got a quick little filled pasta for you. With a simple egg dough and a spreadable roasted pistachio filling, you can stamp these little anolini out in less time than it takes your cafetière to boil. A pasta like this can be paired with just about anything, but we dropped them into some bone broth stock that we had hanging around in the freezer, for a meal of subtle but complex flavour.

This week it’s back to our favourite type of pasta: ravioli! You might remember our spinach and ricotta recipe, from way back in the early days of our blog. That was our original family dish, but we also use to make the occasional meat or pumpkin filled variety, which is what’s inspired this week’s pasta. A simple but satisfying mix of earthy dough, creamy filling, and crispy little bits of meat!

These days I make all kinds of pasta with all kinds of dough, but when I was a kid there were only four types. Don’t get me wrong, we enjoyed plenty of packet pasta – secretly but unanimously excited as my nonna apologised for the rigatoni she was opening – but when we did it ourselves, our repertoire was deliberately and appropriately limited.