Tortelli di Zucca is traditionally served on Christmas Eve in Mantova (or “Mantua” – a translation I’ve never understood…like the painter “Titian” when his name is Tiziano… Mantova is where my grandmother was born, and famous for harboring Romeo after killing Tybalt in Romeo & Juliet). The finest version of this dish ever served around our family dinner was by my aunt, and she served it with a deliciously simple tomato sauce on top.
You should know that my aunt, Zia Lella, makes the most amazing dishes known to man. Ask her for the recipe though, and she’ll blow it off as the easiest thing in the world. But she never fooled me. Making 5 course dinners including pumpkin ravioli from scratch for family dinners of a dozen or more boisterous Italian mouths doesn’t strictly fall under the Easy Peasy category. For the first time ever in my life (and here’s hoping my mother doesn’t read this for fear of killing her with the shock of it), I tested wonton wrappers instead of making the pasta from scratch.
The results didn’t kill me. Nor did they make me jump for joy either. Wonton wrappers in place of homemade pasta came out very, very watery. So if you have an hour to spare – and don’t mind making these a day ahead so they can dry completely before cooking, I’d recommend the age-old homemade pasta route. Also, in my quest to find decent amaretti cookies, I came across a batch of real clunkers. Cheap and nasty amaretti have a bitter aftertaste, much like almond flavoured alcohol. So if you’re deciding between some that say “Made In Italy” or some that say “Italian-style”, spend the extra dollar for the nice ones. Also, mostarda is the traditional wet agent in the filling, but at $13 a jar, I thought this was a little extravagant.
So after a lot of practicing, and testing, and researching, and trying (and failing) and trying again, I found it. Not only can this ravioli stuffing be made from scratch, and dairy free, but it can also be made using ingredients you can find right here in the US. No transatlantic travel necessary — so come up with a new reason why your hubby should buy you a ticket.
The best hint I came across for an authentic reproduction of this medieval recipe is that American pumpkins differ greatly from their Italian counterparts, so butternut squash replaces zucca, or pumpkin, here.
Ingredients for the Stuffing:
One 3-lb butternut squash
1 egg
1 cup of ground amaretti cookies
1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg
2 1/2 cups breadcrumbs (I used a freshly baked fruit and nut loaf from LaBrea Bakery – despite listing sour culture as an ingredient, I tested a slice first to check its Belly Healthfullness, and had no adverse reaction at all. Score! What makes me sad is this is listed as a “Limited Edition” loaf!)
2 tablespoons ground pine nuts
1/2 cup of brandy
1 teaspoon grated lemon peel
1 tablespoon grated orange peel
Directions:
1) Slice the butternut squash lengthways and scoop out the seeds with a spoon. Drizzle them with a small (and I mean very small) dash of olive oil and place them flesh-side-down on a roasting dish. Pop it in the oven and roast at 400 degrees for 40 minutes or until the flesh is plenty soft and very, very appealing.
2) You’ll need to wait for the roasted squash to cool, but you can prepare the rest of the ingredients in the meantime, so that blending and mixing will only take 10 minutes.
3) Gradually mix all the flavours, spices and ingredients together and leave the filling overnight and covered in the fridge to allow the flavors to blend. The texture should be sticky, but not too wet. If it does appear too wet, add a smidgen more of the breadcrumbs; too dry and I would add a splash of olive oil.
Now the process of making your own pasta can be found anywhere, so I won’t repeat it here. It’s awkward to explain and requires diagrams, so just have a look at the picture. The proper folding of this pasta should involve evenly cut squares, using a good and simple pastry wheel. Wet your fingers and “glue” the insides of the pasta squares around the filling. Fold them across to form triangles, being careful to push out any air between the filling and the pasta. Then, taking the two far corners of the triangle, bend them upwards and towards you, flattening them to form little nun’s hats (which is the traditional meaning of cappelletti). Don’t pinch them together, or you’ll end up with pasta that is too thick to cook through properly.
Any questions? (hahahahaha) Leave a comment and I’ll get right back to you!
