Gotta Oughta Ricotta

The joy of Fanny has to be in the unexpected. I try not to look too far ahead to see what is coming next. I just love the element of surprise, delight and from time-to-time surprisingly delightful horror, that are contained within the technicolour pages of the partwork. It's not worth trying to second guess what Fanny has in mind, it's rarely what you might think, even if you apply previous knowledge of her work and erm, innovation, to your already over-active imagination. Fanny's is in overdrive.

We are still cooking with cheese. I've been hopeful for something savoury and well. cheesy. So far, however, it's all been sweet. Today is no exception as we tackle an Italian Budino di Ricotta, or a plain old cream cheese pudding if like me, you're Italian is ropey. Fanny's Italian was very ropey indeed, so let's hope that Budino does actually translate as pudding...

Fanny begins by beating together the ricotta - or any of her dreamy creamy homemade cheese should you have any left - with ground almonds, icing sugar and a flavouring. Fanny suggests lemon, but I don't have any, so substitute with vanilla. The mix is quite wet. Fanny whips up a lot of egg whites until they are very stiff indeed and gently folds them in, before transferring to a buttered soufflé mould to bake for thirty minutes.

It emerges from the oven as a gloriously risen, well, soufflé, but as it cooled it sank down again. I think Fanny knew it would be looking less than appealing as it was turned out of the mould, so she had an idea up her chiffon sleeve to turn things around. Boudoir Biscuits and coloured icing. She sits the ricotta pud on a sponge base before surrounding it with the biscuits dipped in heavily coloured icing. Of course she does. What else would she do?

It certainly makes it seem cheerier. She's not finished there. Cream piping. Always required. Suddenly this old pudding is looking quite splendid indeed. Unless of course my retro-loving eyes have become tainted by Fanny? Fanny finishes it off with some rose petals, primarily because she had a pretty plate with roses on it. I don't. The smell is lovely though, so shouldn't complain. It's a very unusual pudding, to look at and to taste, light and pillowy, nutty and sweet. As always with Fanny, she delivers something unexpected and slightly wonderful.  And blue.

Ricotta Roll - the Big Cheese Freeze

I've never been to Italy. It's quite a shock to think it out loud, and to write it down. Never been. Fanny would be horrified. I love to travel, as she did, and love to hoover up food wherever I go, as she did too. I love Italian food, just like Fanny. So, it just seems odd to have never even considered heading to the home of pasta, pizza, risotto and gelato. Perhaps it's because Italian food is everywhere, there's no need to search it out? Perhaps it's because it's relatively simple to recreate at home? Perhaps it's because Fanny made it so commonplace? Perhaps I need to remedy it in the near future at any rate - watch out Italy I'm coming your way (maybe).

Not only do I love cooking and eating Italian fare (or at least my version, and Fanny's take!) but I love trying new things. Last year I headed to the Eat Drink Discover Scotland event in Edinburgh in search of more new things. My house is full of new things. And old things really, just full. I'd been following the adventures of the Big Cheese Making Kit folk, so was delighted to snap up one of their kits to make my own vegetarian (all their kits use veggie rennet) cheese at home. Who would've thought it? I plumped for Mozzarella and Ricotta. I made the Mozzarella straight away and was impressed with the result. The geek in me was impressed with the process too. The science-y bit.

Fanny uses Ricotta in her final recipe to follow all that pasta - Italian Cream Cheese Iced Pudding, or Gelato de Ricotta, and I'm sure she'd be delighted if her student were to make their own cheese, wouldn't she? It's fairly easy, everything you need is in the kit, except the milk. I've gone 'best' here and am using Grahams Dairy Gold. Use the best you can find. The Ricotta is easiest of all, just add citric acid and salt to the milk and heat until the curds separate from the whey, strain (I hung mine over the kitchen tap) and it's ready. Really fresh, really creamy. Really perfect for an Italian dessert.

Fanny makes a kind of ice cream with hers - blending it with sugar, chocolate chips and chopped glacé cherries. I'm tempted to say Tutti Frutti or Neapolitan, it's neither but maybe a bit of both. Fanny also adds vanilla and a little Crème de Cacao from a miniature bottle. I use some vanilla paste and Pure Chocolate Extract from Little Pod as a substitute. No alcohol, but it does come in a little bottle. What's wrong with me - no alcohol? Once combined it's popped in the ordinary domestic deep freeze. No churning or fancy machines again for Fanny.

To serve, Fanny chooses an old favourite, the Swiss Roll. Oh, not very Italian then. I wondered if I might be able to encase the Ricotta Ice Cream in the roll like that old 1970's favourite Arctic Roll, but even after a full day in the deep freeze, the Ricotta Ice Cream wasn't quite firm enough. Fanny makes a kind of cake with hers, but I simply slice and plop the ice cream on top. It's a bit wonky, maybe inspired by the leaning Tower of Pisa? Tasty though, with a great texture. The added chocolate and cherries go well. It's not the most attractive looking dessert, but looks aren't everything. Fanny smothers hers in sifted icing sugar as with all things, so it's hard to see what it looked like for her. She serves a slice on scented geranium leaves, which I don't have, but I'm learning to adapt. I'm not sure if I ever do make it over to Italy that this is what they will be eating, which has never really concerned Fanny, but until then I'm in ignorant, cheesy bliss. Perhaps it's brain freeze...

Holy Ravioli!

Back in the 1970's when I was wee I didn't really know what 'pasta' was. Sure we had Macaroni from Marshalls and we always had a packet of Spaghetti in the cupboard, although I don't remember ever eating it. It was next to the tub of smelly Parmesan Cheese. We certainly never called it 'pasta'. It certainly wasn't 'fresh'. Anything more exotic was to be found in tins, especially a firm favourite of mine, Ravioli. It may have been thick and claggy, in a radioactive looking tomato sauce, but that was all I knew. At the same time, unbeknown to me, Fanny was on a mission to educate the good folks of 'this island' to the culinary delights that Italy could offer. She was such a fan she even wrote a whole book about it. But, did she really know her Rigatoni from her Tortellini or was it all 'Fanny-ised'?

The first recipe in the Pasta Partwork leaves me wondering if I'm honest. It's Ravioli, but not as I know it. Not even as I knew it. Maybe it's because I regularly make my own pasta, but this recipe is certainly not one that I am familiar with. I was almost tempted to switch things round a bit and use at least the ingredients I know. But I didn't - I've followed Fanny's advice and made my pasta from, deep breath, Self-Raising Flour and Butter. No eggs. It's like no pasta I have ever known.

Fanny starts by sifting the flour (I can still barely believe I am using Self-Raising instead of '00' but I'm going with it) with some salt and rubbing in butter until it's very fine. Then a small amount of cold water to bind it all together, mixed with a small knife. I know what you are thinking, I was thinking the same thing, but just when all we can think about is pastry Fanny says the next step is to knead the dough for 3 minutes. You don't knead pastry. But remember, this isn't pastry. This is so counterintuitive, but what the heck. As I knead, the dough really softens up and becomes very stretchy, even beginning to resemble pasta dough as I know it. Maybe Fanny is not as daft as she seems. Or maybe I'm easily fooled.

Following a wee rest for 30 minutes in the fridge, and a swift lie down for me, the dough is divided into two and rolled out very thinly into two sheets. I really wasn't sure if it would roll out thin enough with an ordinary rolling pin, but you what - it did. It rolled really well. Really well. Fanny suggests a familiar filling of Spinach and Ricotta Cheese, using freshly cooked spinach. Being Fanny of course she suggests piping it onto the 'pasta' sheets which are first brushed with beaten egg.

Fanny employs a very complicated system for ensuring neatness. She marks out a checkerboard of small squares on a sheet of greaseproof paper and places it over the pasta sheet, pricking the centre of each square with a skewer. When the greaseproof paper is removed it's easy to spot the dots and pipe 'blobs' of spinach and ricotta onto them. It's all very neat, and makes the next stage a little easier. The second sheet of 'pasta' is carefully placed on top, pressed down between the blobs of filling and then cut into neat squares of Ravioli. They sit happily in the fridge for another rest, and a cold flannel applied to the head for me, while a large pot of salted water boils for them. 'Pasta is no good in puddles' Fanny reminds us. Only a few minutes until they float to the surface and are ready. Fanny makes a Genoese Sauce - or Pesto - to go with it. Nothing Fanny-ish about this, just yummy. She uses a pestle and mortar to bash it all up, but I whizz it in my processor. The finished Ravioli are actually very good. A little thicker than normal, a little more puffed, a little more gloopy maybe but very tasty. Way better than those tins I remember, and using ingredients readily available at the time. It may all seem odd today, but Fanny was doing her best to get us all pasta-crazy. Mamma Mia it's bonkers, but strangely it works. Just like Fanny herself.