Saturday I made homemade pasta.
Yes. Homemade.
Delicious, chewy, fresh from the kitchen homemade pasta. (Thank you Better Homes and Gardens for the few extra pounds that keep me warm in the winter.) I found the "5 Steps to Delicious Homemade Pasta" by Donatella Arpaia in the September 2011 issue (if you're interested).
So I dove into the unknown, the back hand of the Italian world. How hard could it be? I thought to myself. Just flour, salt, and water...mix it together and...
Taking the stiff dough, I pounded it into the surface for ten minutes straight. Ten minutes isn't much when your in the shower, driving down the road, or spending quality time with your family. But when your pushing and shoving and lunging, palms first, into dough that feels like a rock...ten minutes seems like ten years. Ten minutes, 600 seconds, I beat slowly as muscles were tense and the dough as thick as tar. Some pasta.
With little patience, but just enough wonder to keep me going, I continued to knead and work through the dough, pushing it forward inch by inch. Forcefully working one piece at a time, I knead and push, knead and push.
Finally. Ten minutes was up. But then came the hour.
For the best, most tender pasta, you must let knead for ten minutes and rest for an hour.
A full hour.
60 minutes.
3600 seconds.
Talk about patience!
But then it came. The time of waiting was over.
I returned to the kitchen, and what to my wandering eyes should appear, but a soft and pliable dough...my face full of cheer. I continued to craft cavatelli like Donatella, and even creatively compose linguine and "knots" until the last bit of the dough was used.
After boiling for three minutes the pasta was complete.
Kneading. Waiting. Boiling.
Soft. Tender. Complete.
It doesn't make sense, does it? Kneading, waiting, and boiling make soft, tender, and complete? Kneading...waiting...and boiling?
We understand in the cooking world that time and pressure make tender. (Okay, maybe we don't fully comprehend the scientific method within the molecules...but we get it.) But do we understand that time and pressure make tender in our hearts?
Kneading. Waiting. Boiling.
The Kneading master Himself takes us in His hands.
Slowly, with patience, He continues to knead and work through our hearts, pushing it forward inch by inch. Forcefully working one piece at a time, He kneads and pushes, kneads and pushes. He waits for us to become tender. Waiting.
Talk about patience!
Through pressure and steam we become soft...
tender...
complete...
Homemade.
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