Sunday is Pasta Day

I found out, in many homes. And certainly in my friend, Rose's. Rose knows pasta. And she knows how to make it. Yesterday, that is exactly what she decided to do. I was one of the helpers.

So here we go on a journey through making pasta.

Another helper was Kitchen Aid:



In go the eggs:











Then, there is that kneading, until it is just the right consistency.











The dough is divided into little balls, then "rolled" flat.

With a quick change of the attachment, the flat dough ends up in long strips (missed that picture), and cut into short oblong pieces. Okay, here's where I roll up my sleeves. Each one of the oblongs are rolled around a wire, and presto, you have a spiral pasta. Fusilli. Here's the pro showing how it is done:



The pasta gets to lie on a cloth on the table for a couple of hours to dry, while Rose synchronizes many activities, all timed to this happening:



In their splendour:


And now it is time to eat:



What you do not get to see was the feast. Nor the certain people holding onto their stomachs, and pondering over a second helping, nor the happy, happy faces, nor the laughter.

Thanks, Rose.