A friend once asked me why I enjoyed eating foods that, to him, looked like they'd taste like I was running through a field of weeds with my mouth open. I can only imagine then, how high he'd have raised his eyebrows if he saw me at the market last week, paying money for something that not only looks like a weed but is one.
And I have to admit that even I - unabashed lover of hearty kale, feathery frisee, tough turnip rabe, and the like - was feeling a bit skeptical when I snatched up that bag of nettles. There is something to be feared about these early spring greens, not only because they have that stinging nature but also because few people know what to do with them. Even the man at the market stand wanted to know what I was buying them for; as it turned out, he'd never toyed with nettles either.
As it was, I had plans to make pasta with them, which in itself is quite remarkable for I've failed miserably at making pasta in the past. To be clear, I'm not talking about boiling noodles. I'm referencing pasta of the homemade sort, the kind I always imagine an Italian grandmother with thick arms kneading, then rolling out with the wooden rolling pin she keeps at her hip.
Not being an Italian grandmother (or graced with very strong arms either), my last attempt at making fresh pasta failed. After following the recipe to a tee, all I got were dry, crumbly bits that, knead as hard and as long as I might, never formed the smooth dough I desired. I don't remember what we had for supper that night, but I know it wasn't pasta.
Now that you know all this, you might wonder why I attempted nettle parpadelle at all. I can't really recall my reasoning but I can say this: I'm so glad I did.
Nettle pasta is much easier to make than you think and stunningly beautiful to boot. Those edible weeds turn the pasta an impossibly deep shade of green, something like the hue of a Christmas tree, only more striking. They do not, however, add a ton of flavor to the pasta, which is why I suggest packing the flavor into the accompaniments. I choose a spring lamb ragu; you can do as you wish.
As for the stinging effects, once you blanch them, these weedy greens are actually quite harmless. Handle them with a pair of tongs before they hit the hot water and you'll have nothing to fear - I promise.
Fresh Nettle Parpadelle
This recipe requires a scale, which I believe to be a worthwhile investment for this dish (and many more that require precision with weights and measures). If you don't have a scale, there are plenty of flavored pasta recipes that don't require a scale, such as these ones that my friend Louisa recommends. You will however need a pasta machine to make any of these recipes at home.
Serves 4
8 ounces nettles
Serves 4
8 ounces nettles
1 cup baby spinach leaves
10 ounces semolina flour
1 tablespoon (or more) water
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Blanch the nettles and spinach in the water until wilted, about 10 seconds. (To avoid touching the raw stinging nettles directly use rubber gloves or kitchen tongs to move them until they've been blanched).
Drain the greens in a colander and rinse with cold water. Remove and discard any nettle stems, reserving the leaves. Squeeze the liquid out of the leaves using a clean kitchen towel or paper towels until you have a ball of greens that weighs 4 ounces. If the greens are too heavy, squeeze out more water until you hit the 4 ounce mark.
Puree the greens in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade attachment. Add the flour and 1 teaspoon of the water and blend until the dough just comes together, adding water by the teaspoonful if the dough appears too dry.
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and knead until smooth (channeling those Italian grandmothers, please), about 5 minutes. Shape the dough into a ball and cover with plastic wrap. Let the dough rest at room temperature for 1 hour.
Divide the dough into eight pieces. Working with one piece at a time, flatten the dough into an oblong shape slightly thinner than the pasta machine's widest setting. Dust the dough lightly with semolina, then feed it through the machine five times. Continue to run the piece through the machine, adjusting it to a thinner setting every five passes, until the dough is thin enough for your liking. Using the machine or a knife, cut the pasta into wide noodles.
Bring a pot of salted water to boil. Cook the noodles until al dente, about 2 minutes. Drain and serve immediately with desired accompaniments.
10 ounces semolina flour
1 tablespoon (or more) water
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Blanch the nettles and spinach in the water until wilted, about 10 seconds. (To avoid touching the raw stinging nettles directly use rubber gloves or kitchen tongs to move them until they've been blanched).
Drain the greens in a colander and rinse with cold water. Remove and discard any nettle stems, reserving the leaves. Squeeze the liquid out of the leaves using a clean kitchen towel or paper towels until you have a ball of greens that weighs 4 ounces. If the greens are too heavy, squeeze out more water until you hit the 4 ounce mark.
Puree the greens in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade attachment. Add the flour and 1 teaspoon of the water and blend until the dough just comes together, adding water by the teaspoonful if the dough appears too dry.
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and knead until smooth (channeling those Italian grandmothers, please), about 5 minutes. Shape the dough into a ball and cover with plastic wrap. Let the dough rest at room temperature for 1 hour.
Divide the dough into eight pieces. Working with one piece at a time, flatten the dough into an oblong shape slightly thinner than the pasta machine's widest setting. Dust the dough lightly with semolina, then feed it through the machine five times. Continue to run the piece through the machine, adjusting it to a thinner setting every five passes, until the dough is thin enough for your liking. Using the machine or a knife, cut the pasta into wide noodles.
Bring a pot of salted water to boil. Cook the noodles until al dente, about 2 minutes. Drain and serve immediately with desired accompaniments.
-Recipe from Gathering Together Farm
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