Passport & Plate - Cassatelle della ricotta (Sicily)
Italy | Friday, March 14, 2014 | 5 photos
Ingredients
Pastry
- 1 cup self raising flour
- 1 cup plain flour
- 1/4 cup olive oil
- 1/4 cup white wine
- 1/3 cup (approx) of water
- pinch of salt
Filling
- 1 tub ricotta (500 gm)
- 1 egg
- 2 tablespoons of sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
- Extra beaten egg for sealing
- Caster sugar for the outside
How to prepare this recipe1)- Mix the plain flour, self raising flour and a pinch of salt in a large mixing bowl.
2)- Make a well in the middle of the dry ingredients, add the olive oil, white wine and the water and mix until combined.
3) - Remove dough and place on a board. Knead until smooth.
4) - Cut the dough into four equal pieces. Using a rolling pin, roll each piece until the dough is paper thin.
5)- Using a saucer as a guide (approximately 12 cm in diameter) cut the pastry out into equal circles and set aside.
6) - Place the ricotta in a separate bowl and add the egg, sugar and cinnamon. Using a fork mix to combine.
7) - Take a tablespoon of the ricotta mixture and place it on one side of a circle of the dough (so that the other side can eventually be folded over). On the opposite side rub a small amount of the beaten egg around the edges to assist with sealing. Fold the parcels over to a half moon shape. Repeat with the rest of the mixture.
8) - Seal the parcels by pressing down on the ends of the pastry with the back of a cake fork.
9) - Pierce each parcel gently with a fork on the sides to ensure the air can escape and the parcels won't open when frying.
10) - Heat a few glugs of oil in a pan (shallow is fine) and fry the cassatelle on both sides until golden and crispy.
11) - Place the cassatelle on paper towels to drain.
12) - Roll the hot cassatelle in white sugar to coat.
Enjoy hot or cold. Makes around 15 cassatelle.
The story behind this recipeI remember when I was a little girl my Nonna Teresa telling me a story. We were in her kitchen and I was mixing flour, oil and white wine with my fingers. Nonna watched me with a close eye, adding water when the mixture became crumbly and throwing in a pinch of salt as I worked. She taught me to feel the dough for springiness and to massage it using the palms of my hands. I followed on, trying desperately to mimic the master. ‘My Nonna taught me how to make cassatelle when I was your age’ she said, ‘her name was Nonna Teresa too’.
My grandmother described a world in Sicily that I could only imagine. Goats roaming through the cobblestone streets on the way to get milked. My Nonna at age eight dragging a saucepan half her size to the farmer’s house to fetch the ricotta. She explained how the farmer filled the saucepan with the milky hot cheese and whey, and then wrapped it in a tea towel to keep everything warm. My Nonna struggled with the saucepan on the way home, careful not to drop the load or untie the tea-towel.
That day in the tiny Sicilian town was the day my Nonna learnt to make cassatelle, the food of celebration in her family. Her Nonna, my great, great Nonna, taught her the tricks to perfecting the Italian specialty. She explained the importance of white wine in the pastry to make it flakey, and showed my Nonna how to prick the parcels at the edges, just enough for the air to escape but not so much that the ricotta would ooze out. Over the years as her Nonna got older my Nonna became the expert, preparing cassatelle for Christmases, weddings, Baptisms and wakes. Cassatelle is truly a dish that travels with you through life.
This recipe has been enjoyed by generations of my family. It has been passed from grandmother to granddaughter and travelled the seas. I know that one day my children will make cassatelle, and then my children’s children. But for now I create them in my Nonna's kitchen - she adding the water while I mix the flour with my fingers.
