Thursday, August 30, 2012

Claridges Tea Time and Strawberry Fraisiers

It’s 5 Star Makeover time again and our theme this month is an English tea party and all that goes with it.  
When I heard tea party, my thoughts went immediately to my platonic ideal of tea parties at Claridges in London and my first elegant English tea.  I’ve been to wonderful tea parties since but that one remains the standard against which all others are measured.

Oh yes, I did have a few small flirtations with tea parties before Claridges –– first as a child purloining a precious miniature golden set in my gram’s china cabinet for my make-believe  tea parties and then as a teen with herbal teas in rough artisanal mugs that went with patchouli oil, waist length hair and folk music, but that was an aberration. The idea of taking tea was firmly imprinted on my brain as an occasion perfumed with vases of blowsy roses,  propped with elegant china, lots of silver, tiered sweet stands and snowy napery ­–– nearly blinding in its crisp whiteness.  That was what I found manifestly at Claridges in Mayfair.  History and elegance is the blood and breath and pulse of the place as is the sublime service.
I got to stay at the storied Claridges when I was just at the end of college and a lovely friend swept me away to London after I told him I loved the city –– 2 weeks later I was there –– and what a there!    It was the perfect place to experience my first great tea.

Claridges began in 1812 as Mivarts Hotel.  It was combined in 1854 with a hotel belonging to Mr and Mrs Claridge and soon became THE hotel in London when the Empress Eugenie stayed there and Queen Victoria came to call in 1860.  It was so successful that it was purchased by the owner of the Savoy Hotel and impresario of Gilbert and Sullivan fame –– Richard D’Oyly Carte.   He tore down the old space and created a state-of-the-art hotel in 1898 with individual bathrooms and elevators.  It was successful as well.
  1930 version

The 1920’s saw a new Deco spirit in London and Basil Ionides was brought in to re-design the restaurant and bring it into the modern age. Ionides was a great choice (he's known for his striking work on the Deco masterpiece, the Savoy Theatre).

In 1929, Sir Edwin Lutyen’s former assistant, Oswald Milne, designed a new main entrance and removed the old-fashioned carriage drive in the front of the hotel.  The 30’s saw a new Deco addition to the east of the old Victorian Claridges building (there are great images of the 1930s Claridges on the Royal Institute of British Architects site).
Since then, Thierry Despont did a 1996 renovation on the venerable hotel that sort of pales in comparison to the earlier versions in my humble opinion (as the following photos show–– you can decide for yourself). 
The Dining room (now a Gordon Ramsey restaurant)
The entrance hall (from Claridges website)
The entrance hall  (from Claridges website)

Many celebrities have stayed there from Cary Grant to Brad and Angelina as well as visiting royalty and aristocrats from all over the world.  There is a story that someone called up asking for The King and the polite fellow answered, “Which one?” It has been called an extension to Buckingham Palace because of its long connection with the royal family. Although they would go to the ends of the earth for a client (they made a room a piece of Yugoslavia for a day so a prince could claim he was born in Yugoslavia), they were sticklers for appearances and made Kate Hepburn come in the service entrance when she was wearing trousers.
Lovely people of all sorts still meet at Claridges and for $50 to $100 they can luxuriate in the ceremony of taking tea for an afternoon and feel the world revolve just a little more slowly for them for a few hours.
Claridges Foyer (from Claridge’s site)
Claridges Foyer (from Claridges website)

I had such a clear memory of the serene service of the place, the small sandwiches and cakes, scones and glacéed fruit with jam pots, cream pots and tea, lovely fragrant tea (and a bit of champagne if I remember correctly). It is still great, and won The Tea Guild’s  2011 Top London Afternoon Tea award.
I used to be terribly fond of creamy desserts and I remember one that I found particularly addicting –– a Fraisier.  There was something about the soaked cake, fluffy cream and strawberries with the remarkable red gelée that was perfection –– waves of flavor and texture.  Perfect for a tea, or anything else for that matter.
I never make desserts like this so was a bit daunted by the prospect. I didn’t have the proper ring molds and ended up using stacked English muffin rings for the individual version!  It was quite a process getting the jelly to behave so I made another, back-up version in a cut glass bowl like a neat trifle which was much easier to do. The recipe that I used from Daring Bakers made the dessert in a whole cake form.  You can pick your favorite. Think of it as an apotheosis of strawberry shortcake –– it's that good,
This recipe makes a good deal of cake and I must say that I usually think of Fraisiers made with a flat sheet cake in very thin layers.  The fluffy chiffon cake was tough to cut in thin layers, but I found the lightness of the cake quite lovely and an improvement on the more stolid sheet cake.  Many versions of the dessert are made with 2 layers of cake on top and bottom –– I liked one layer better.  Some versions also have a layer of almond paste instead of the gelée.  I love the gelée and the tart contrast it offers and adding a little bit of Aftelier rose essence to the mixture makes it really superb.  Also, the cream layer is really fine.  Terribly light and airy so that it sort of evanesces in your mouth as you eat it (and the rose geranium is another great addition to an already great recipe).  All and all, it was great and really refreshed my memories of that first great tea so many years ago.

Although it takes a bit of time it's less complicated than it looks.  You could make it in a snap if you bought your cake.

Strawberry Fraisier based on a recipe from The Daring Kitchen 

Basic Chiffon Cake (for base):
1 cup + 2 tablespoons (270 ml) (5½ oz/155 gm) all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon (5 ml) (4 gm) baking powder

3/4 cups (180 ml) (6 oz /170 gm) sugar

1/2 teaspoon (2½ ml) (1½ gm) salt

1/4 cup (2 fl oz/60 ml) vegetable oil

3 large egg yolks
⅓ cup + 1 tablespoon (3.17 fl oz/95 ml) water

1 teaspoon (5 ml) pure vanilla extract

3/4 teaspoon (3¾ ml) (3 gm) lemon zest, grated

5 large egg whites

¼ teaspoon (1¼ ml) (1 gm) cream of tartar

Preheat the oven to moderate 325°F (160°C/gas mark 3).
Line the bottom of an 8-inch (20 cm) spring form pan with parchment paper. Do not grease the sides of the pan.
In a large mixing bowl, stir together the flour and baking powder. Add in all but 3 tablespoons (45 ml.) of sugar, and all of the salt. Stir to combine.
In a small bowl combine the oil, egg yolks, water, vanilla and lemon zest. Whisk thoroughly.
Combine with the dry ingredients and mix thoroughly for about one minute, or until very smooth.
Put the egg whites into a stand mixer, and beat on medium speed using a whisk attachment on a medium speed, until frothy. Add cream of tartar and beat on a medium speed until the whites hold soft peaks.

Slowly add the remaining sugar and beat on a medium-high speed until the whites hold firm and form shiny peaks.
Using a grease free rubber spatula, scoop about ⅓ of the whites into the yolk mixture and fold in gently. Gently fold in the remaining whites just until combined.
Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake for 45 to 55 minutes or until toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.
Removed the cake from the oven and allow to cool in the pan on a wire rack.
To unmold, run a knife around the sides to loosen the cake from the pan and remove the spring form sides. Invert the cake and peel off the parchment paper. Refrigerate for up to four days.
Pastry Cream Filling
1 cup (8 fl oz/250 ml) whole milk

1/2 teaspoon (2½ ml) pure vanilla extract

1/8 teaspoon (1/2 ml) (¼ gm) salt

2 tablespoons (30 ml) (10 gm) cornstarch

1/4 cup (60 ml) (2 oz/55 gm) sugar

1 large egg

3 large rose geranium leaves cut in large pieces (optional)
2 tablespoons (30 ml) (1 oz/30 gm) unsalted butter (optional)

3/4 teaspoon (3¾ ml) (4 gm) gelatin

1/2 tablespoon (7½ ml) water

1 cup (8 fl oz/250 ml) heavy cream

Pour the milk, vanilla, and salt into a heavy sauce pan. Place over medium-high heat and scald, bringing it to a near boiling point. Stir occasionally.
Meanwhile, in a stand mixer add the cornstarch and sugar. Whisk to combine
Add the eggs to the sugar and cornstarch and whisk until smooth.
When the milk is ready, gently and slowly while the stand mixer is whisking, pour the heated milk down the side of the bowl into the egg mixture. Add the rose geranium now if you are using them
Pour the mixture back into the warm pot and continue to cook over a medium heat until the custard is thick, just about to boil and coats the back of a spoon. Take the leaves out at this point.
Remove from heat and pass through a fine mesh sieve into a large mixing bowl. Allow to cool for ten minutes stirring occasionally.
Cut the butter into four pieces and whisk into the pastry cream a piece at a time until smooth if you are using the butter.  If you want a stronger rose geranium flavor, put the leaves back in the cream.
Cover the cream with plastic wrap, pressing the plastic wrap onto the top of the cream to prevent a skin from forming. Chill in the refrigerator for up to five days.  Remove the leaves when you are ready to move on to the next step.
In a small dish, sprinkle the gelatin over the water and let stand for a few minutes to soften.
Put two inches (55 mm) of water into a small sauce pan and bring to a simmer over a medium heat.
Measure 1/4 cup (2 oz/60 ml) of the chilled pastry cream into a small stainless steel bowl that will sit across the saucepan with the simmering water, without touching the water.
Heat the cream until it is 120 F (48.8 C). Add the gelatin and whisk until smooth. Remove from the water bath, and whisk the remaining cold pastry cream in to incorporate in two batches.
In a stand mixer, fitted with the whisk attachment, whip the cream until it holds medium-stiff peaks. Immediately fold the whipped cream into the pastry cream with a rubber spatula.
Simple Syrup:
1/3 cup (2⅔ fl oz/80 ml) (2⅔ oz/75 gm) of sugar

1/3 cup (2⅔ fl oz/80 ml) of water
Combine the water and sugar in a medium saucepan.
Bring the mixture to a boil and let the sugar dissolve. Stirring is not necessary, but will not harm the syrup.
Remove the syrup from the heat and cool slightly.
OR warm a good currant or herb jelly and use it
OR moisten the cake with a good madeira or sherry-spiked sugar syrup like a trifle I’d say 2 T should do it.
Strawberry Gelée (Adapted from Martha Stewart)
1 pound strawberries
1 0r 2 drops Aftelier rose essence or 2 t rose water (optional but if you use the rosewater, then use less cold water)
½ c sugar
½ c plus 3 T cold water
¼ t coarse salt
1 T plus 1 t lemon juice
1 ¾ t unflavored gelatin

Puree the berries with sugar, ½ c water and salt.  Strain through a fine strainer (you should have 2 c).  Sprinkle gelatin over water and soften for 5 minutes.  Heat the strawberry puree over medium heat.  Add the gelatin to ½ c puree and combine, then combine with the rest of the strawberries and the rose.  Let it cool somewhat before pouring on the cream.


1 baked 8-inch (20 cm) chiffon cake

1 recipe pastry cream filling

⅓ cup (80 ml) simple syrup

2 lbs (900 g) strawberries (this is generous)
1 recipe strawberry gelée
.        Line the sides of a 8-inch (20 cm) spring form pan or 6-8 single molds with plastic wrap. Do not line the bottom of the pan/molds.
.        Cut the cake horizontally to form thin layers. I made mine quite thin but you can chose the best for your taste.
.        Fit the bottom layer into the prepared spring form pan or molds. Moisten the layer evenly with the simple syrup. When the cake has absorbed enough syrup to resemble a squishy sponge, you have enough.
.        Hull and slice in half enough strawberries to arrange around the sides of the cake pan. Place the cut side of the strawberry against the sides of whatever pan you use, point side up forming a ring.
.        Pipe cream in-between strawberries and a thin layer across the top of the cake (I also used the end of a spoon to make sure the cream had gone between the berries).
.        Hull and quarter your remaining strawberries and place them in the middle of the cake. Cover the strawberries and entirely with the pastry cream.
.        Pour the just cooled gelée on top in an even layer and refrigerate for at least 4 hours.
.        To serve, release the sides of the spring form pan and peel away the plastic wrap or pull off your rings and peel away the plastic or just serve if you are putting it in a glass bowl.
Serve immediately or store in the refrigerator for up to 3 days

Most of the information about Claridges came from their website.

Come visit the five star makeover on Friday to see all the great tea parties from my amazing compatriots!

Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday!

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Thursday, August 23, 2012

Little Moreton Hall and Taffaty Tarts

A friend of my mother gave me a book of architectural styles when I was 12 and my world was transformed. For a year I inhaled architecture books at the library.  At 13 I swerved onto the Art Nouveau off-ramp and my formerly catholic tastes were neglected as I thrilled to the dips and swirls of Gaudi and Horta and Guimard.  Still, the early paddling in the pool of styles had a lasting effect.

The love of architecture and craftsmanship never really left me and my heart beats a little faster every time I see a great building.  One of my lasting favorites is the half-timbered style.  Not the “Ye Olde” beige version of the style snatched for chip shops and 1920’s  suburban houses but the real 15th to 17th century deal.  It appeals to me in a million ways. 

Cabinet of Dr Caligari

Come to think of it,  that Art Nouveau style had a similar draw for me.   I think I know why –– I have a small aversion to right angles!  I think that revelation came the first time I saw The Cabinet of Dr Caligari and those mad, German expressionist sets –– nothing straight about anything in that film (bless the creative genius of designer  Hermann Warm).

The half timbered style  that I love really came into its own in England in the 15th century.  It came about because of a luxury of oak.  England had a great deal of it before home-building, heating and ship construction decimated the once glorious  forests of English oak by the 17th century.  Oak is quite a material, ancient oak is incredibly strong ––  one of the reasons that those buildings I love are still standing –– in their syncopated, bow-legged no-right-angle sort of way.

A great article on Britain Express  said that the term half-timbered refers to the halved logs used in the technique (or the square inner section of the log) –– not the fact that it is part wood and part mud.  The white part of the construction comes from wattle and daub – an interlaced structure of small branches and straw covered by clay mud (with plaster and sometimes lathe on interior walls). 

The article went on to describe the building technique. A brick or stone base was built,  “then a sill beam laid on the footing. Upright beams were mortised into the sill beam and tenoned at the top into another horizontal member.  Timber framed houses are essentially big boxes, with upper “boxes” (stories) set upon lower ones.”  The article also determined that the possible reason that the upper floors stuck out over the lower ones had to do with protecting the entry from rain and snow (although a tax on the land footprint could also have played a part).

When I think half-timbered, I inevitably think of Little Moreton Hall (the name Moreton is Saxon/Norse and means marshland or farmland).  I was reminded of it a few weeks ago when I wrote about my favorite tree house (HERE).   It’s probably one of the best examples of the style in England. 

The National Heritage List  and Time Travel Britain were full of information on the house.  It was begun by Sir Richard de Moreton around 1450 and continued to be constructed until 1580 –– using profits from large tracts of land the family picked up at a substantial discount after the black death wiped out the local population. The house stayed in the family for nearly 500 years before going into the caring arms of the National Trust.

The chevron (v shape) and lozenge (diamond) patterns with quatrefoils (4-leaf clover shape) give it an extraordinary graphic quality.  But it’s the saggy gallery of Little Moreton Hall that I’m crazy about.  The gallery with its  68’ windowed ‘long hall’  was part of the last round of construction.  Built onto the un-strengthened lower supports, the great weight of it and the stone roof  caused considerable sagging (although the steel rods that were snuck in in the 19th century have kept it from collapsing).

The room is just  astonishing, as are the rest of the interiors with odd spaces, idiosyncratic structural beams and rolling wooden floors (the ground floor has stone floors).

One of the striking things about the house is that a craftsman actually signed his work, taking enormous pride in his windows, as well he should.  Richard Dale was hired to create the radiant 2 storied bay windows in the East Wing that were finished in 1559 .

When I thought about what to make for a  Little Moreton Hall-style treat, the Taffety Tart came to mind.  Lots of irregular layers in homage to the charms of the house and a dish that’s been around as long as the house –– perfect.

The English have been making a puff paste for centuries, much like the one we make today.  This one came from a selection of 5 styles in the great Robert May cookbook from the mid-17th century, The Accomplisht Cook (I wrote about May HERE).

Although I saw similar pastes in 16th century books, this one has an unusual egg and cream component in the base dough that is folded with butter to make the layers the same way we do it today.  You could use a purchased puff paste if you want to forgo the pleasure of kicking it really old school.  I made my tarts with 3 layers of puff paste and 2 of  apples.  The coolest thing about these is the interesting flavored sugar made with lemon peel and fennel seed.   It’s brilliant with apples.  I am not alone in this belief.  Heston Blumenthal did a riff on it  for his blazing hot London restaurant, Dinner.

Here are the original recipes from  May’s 1665 book. I decided to make individual tarts instead of a large one.  You could make apple layers on top of one layer of crust but I decided to go for layers of crust as well and make it into a sort of apple sandwich.  I used about 1/3 of a large apple per tart.   It could have been served in a dish much like this ancient beauty.

Taffaty Tart 6-8

3-4 apples, seeded, skinned and sliced paper thin
1/2 c sugar
grated peel of 1 1/2 lemons
1 - 2 t fennel seed,  roughly ground
puff pastry

1/2 stick butter
1 -2 drops Aftelier rose essence or 2 t rosewater

Heat oven to 400º. Line baking sheet with parchment paper.

Combine the sugar, lemon peel and fennel seed.

 Cut out pastry into 3 rounds per tart.  Brush one side with with butter.  Lay out 6-8 of them and sprinkle with sugar.  Put a layer of apples on them and sprinkle with sugar.  Put another round of pastry on top of these and follow with another of apples and sugar.  Top with the final piece of pastry. You may want to pop these back in the fridge for a cool-down before baking.

Bake for 10 minutes, then reduce heat to 390º.  Bake another 20-25 minutes or until lightly browned.
Remove from oven and brush gently with rose butter and sprinkle with sugar.  Put them back in the oven and bake another 5 or so minutes until sugar is crisp and sparkly. 

The Fourth Way puff pastry

2 c flour (bread flour)
2 whites of egg
1 yolk
2 -3 T cream
pinch of salt
1 1/2 sticks butter, softened

Beat the egg till frothy and add the flour.  Add enough cream to make a soft dough.  Roll this out into a square and refrigerate.

Remove from fridge and spread the butter in a smaller square in the center, like a diamond with its points in the center of the larger square's flat sides.  Bring the pointed sides of the pastry up around it to enclose the butter and then roll it out  again, making sure not to be too rough that you let the butter escape.  Fold it like a letter in 3 sections and refrigerate for a half hour or so.  Take it out, roll it out and fold it up again.  Continue to do this 5 times, always keeping the seam to the same side and refrigerating between turns, at least 30 minutes (white on rice couple has a great tutorial on puff pastry HERE).

When it is done, roll it thin and refrigerate.  When you are ready to use it, cut out the circles and refrigerate.  The colder the dough when it goes in the oven, the better the chance of rising.  I usually use bread flour for this but was out and added a bit of whole wheat... they didn't rise as high as usual for me but were delicious none the less.

The pictures of Little Moreton Hall come from many sources including Flickr, Pictures of England, Country Life and Wikipedia.

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Thursday, August 16, 2012

Swedish Meatballs, Ikea, Mom and Amazing Smoked Pasta

Swedish meatballs with smoked pasta

I have a real love/hate relationship with IKEA.

The first big commercials I landed as a designer were for IKEA.  It was a mad whirlwind of a week doing 10 commercials in 2 days.  I basically had 1 day to plan and one day to shop before the shoot ––and shop I did.

I had multiple carts and a crew of Ikea personnel to help me pull hundreds of items for the shoot while my art director was in Manhattan shopping for everything else we needed.  I spent hours going over every square inch of the Elizabeth NJ store.

It was madness for so many reasons –– one of which was that my cell phone didn’t work inside the store so I had to run outside all the time to check on my art director’s progress or answer his questions or tell him what I found.  Lord knows but it all worked splendidly and the campaign was so successful that we were asked to do another series a few months later.  Although the next round of commercials was equally successful, they moved on to a new (less successful) campaign so I was done with IKEA ––  so much for nothing succeeds like success.

I swore I’d never set foot in IKEA again and didn’t for ages. It was sort of like what happens when you eat too much of something and can’t think of it without turning green –– IKEA overload.  Because of that, I always had my decorator take care of shopping there ––you can’t do a contemporary movie in NYC without using IKEA.

Eventually, I relented and have walked many miles in their stores in the last few years.  

Life Magazine, Nina Leen photograph

One thing I can never get enough of at IKEA is their Swedish Meatballs.  They were the fuel that got me through many a shopping frenzy.  It probably didn’t hurt that they reminded me of the meatballs that my mother often served at bridge club –– sweet and savory and so darn good I would often snag some from the pan as she made them.  IKEA, mom and bridge, who knew?

My new blog-friend, Maggy Simony of The Bridge Player Chronicles got me thinking about my mother’s bridge club menus a few months ago as we talked about bridge party food. Talking to Maggy brought back a lot of mom memories, including those wild Jello salads that my mother was soooo fond of for her bridge get-togethers as well as cheesy casseroles, snazzy shrimp dishes and these meatballs.

I have to admit it, I have IKEA to thank for the final push I needed to get a good Swedish meatball recipe. Last time I was in IKEA in April, I bought some of their lingonberry preserves after downing a plate of their meatballs to restore me after a few hours of shopping. After chatting with Maggy and running into the jar on the pantry shelf a few times, it seemed the Swedish meatball spirits were aligning to get me to make them (and they keep working their magic–– I've made them 3 times in 2 months!).

Sadly my mom’s recipe is lost, but doing some research I found one that sounded just about right at Cooks Illustrated, full of very wise tricks that turned out perfect, juicy meatballs positively bursting with flavor that had the best of both mom’s version and IKEA’s.  It differs from my memories of my mother's version in that the preserves aren't in the sauce as my mother's was, rather served on the side. I think both styles are delicious.

Although they are served with potatoes at IKEA, for some reason I always thought of them with noodles.  So I decided to try them with a smoked noodle recipe I made during the cooking marathon at my friend’s place in Vermont over Memorial Day weekend.  

They have a giant smoker and I got it in my head to smoke flour.  We put about an inch of it on a giant sheet pan and let it smoke for an hour or so, stirring every once and a while.  I used my favorite Thomas Keller-based noodle recipe and was crazy about the results.  I thought the meatballs would be excellent with my noodles and they were. 2 months later, the flour still smelled of smoke. You can try my noodle recipe or use dried fettucini (Maggy suggested you could put a little liquid smoke in the water with dried pasta with some of the same effect –– great idea).

Although I didn’t show them in the picture, they are served with crisp little vinegared cucumber slices –– a perfect foil to the rich meatballs and sweet preserves.

All I can say is no wonder mom’s bridge club parties were so popular with food like this fueling the card playing. 

Swedish Meatballs based on a Cook’s Illustrated recipe, serves 4


1 large egg, beaten
¼ c heavy cream
1 large slice bread, crust removed and cubed
4 oz ground pork (the original calls for 8oz)
1 small onion, grated
¼  t allspice
¼  t nutmeg
½ t ground black pepper
1 t packed brown sugar
1 t baking powder
1 t salt
8 oz ground beef
¼ oil


1 T butter
1 T flour
1 ½ c unsalted chicken stock
1 T packed brown sugar
½ c heavy cream (I often use ¼ c)
2 t lemon juice
salt and pepper to taste
1 cup frozen peas (optional)

Lingonberry preserves for serving

Combine the egg, cream and bread and let them soak for an hour.  Put in a standing mixer with the paddle attachment and add the port, onion, spices and rest except the beef.  Whip it till it becomes a homogenized paste.  Add the beef and combine just until mixed, don’t over mix.

With wet hands, make about 20 meatballs and refrigerate till ready to use, they will be very soft so refrigerating is a good idea.

Heat the oil in a large skillet and sauté the meatballs till browned.  Remove from the pan and pour off the fat, leaving the brown bits. Place the meatballs on paper towels

Add the butter and when it foams, add flour to the pan and cook over low heat for 30 seconds or so. Add the broth slowly and cook till reduced to 1 cup and then add the cream.   Return the meatballs to the skillet, add the lemon juice and salt and pepper to taste and peas if you are using them and reheat  the meatballs and serve with lingonberry preserves, cucumbers and noodles.

Swedish Pickled Cucumbers

1 ½ c white vinegar
1 ½ c sugar
1 t salt
12 whole allspice berries or ½ t ground
1 pound cucumbers

Boil everything but the cucumbers till the sugar is dissolved.  Pour over the cucumbers and let cool.  Put in the fridge to chill.

Smoked Pasta

1 c smoked flour
2 large egg yolks
1 large egg
1 t olive oil
½ T milk

Mound the flour and put the rest of the ingredients in the middle.  Slowly bring the flour into the mix and combine to a dough.  It will be sticky but a good deal of kneading will make the dough quite silky.  Let is rest for about an hour and then put through your pasta machine.

Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday

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