
There is a certain level of smugness you get from telling people you made your own fresh pasta. A level of smugness I would argue is largely unparalleled, except for maybe when you go for a run at 6:30am while everyone is tucked up in bed, or when you clean the flat in a prompt fashion rather than procrastinating on it for 2 weeks.
Well I always feel incredibly smug when Chef D’oeuf and I make our own pasta. We did it for the first time on a Jamie Oliver’s online pasta making class which Chef D’oeuf very thoughtfully bought for us for my birthday (sadly Jamie was busy so we had Mario teaching us how to make fresh pasta instead) and that’s still the recipe we use every time. Served with a delicious creamy mushroom sauce and bruschetta to start if we are feeling indulgent.
Recipe is below so you can also join me in my smugness. No pasta rolling machine necessary. All measurements are for two servings.
For the pasta
*whispers* this is surprisingly easier than you think it will be. It just takes a little time. But it’s lockdown so that’s an ample resource for most of us at the moment.
Start by measuring 200g of ’00’ flour into a large bowl. Make a well in the center and crack two eggs into the well.
Beat the eggs with a fork until well mixed, and then gradually start bringing in the flour from outside. Use your hands when it becomes too hard to mix, and form into a dough.
Then dust a sparklingly clean kitchen counter with more pasta flour and begin to knead your dough. Knead until it feels smooth (and the dough bounces back when you poke it), shape into a ball and let it relax (covered in clingfilm) for 10 mins or so.

Once the dough has had a breather, begin to roll out your dough. I neither have the space nor the financial means for a fancy pasta rolling machine (though I did once have a dream that I discovered I had a pasta machine all along) so instead we use a more primitive but equally as effective method (aka a rolling pin). Flour the work surface, divide your dough into halves (we like to do this as it makes it easier to handle) and start rolling each half into an oval shape. Frequently flip the dough over otherwise it’s guaranteed to stick to your work surface (we found this lesson out the hard way during Mario’s class). Continue to roll the dough until fairly thin. This takes a little time and muscle power so Chef D’eouf and I like to be responsible for rolling out each half and then spend the whole meal fiercely arguing about whose half of the pasta dough is rolled out better. But it’s worth the rolling effort for perfectly thin pasta.
We then use a pizza cutter to cut the pasta dough into our preferred shapes. Our favourite is tagliatelle which is made by trimming the rolled pasta into a large rectangle, folding in half (imagine folding two pages of a book together), and then folding in half again. Cut the folded dough into 1cm wide strips, and unfold into your tagliatelles. Dust with pasta flour and leave aside while you prepare the other bits of the meal.





For the creamy mushroom pasta sauce
Again, this is embarrassingly easy but very delicious.
Start by slicing 200g of mushrooms (we like a mix of types), a shallot and a garlic clove. Apparently you’re meant to wash mushrooms very delicately first (think sponge bath for your shitakes) but that’s a lot of effort so I don’t really do that.
Then we fry the mushrooms and thyme (leaves from 2 sprigs of fresh thyme) in a large frying pan. Mario shouted at us during the virtual cookery class for stirring our mushrooms too frequently (doesn’t allow them to get nice and golden) so now we actively neglect them while they fry. Once golden, we add the shallots until soft, and then add a little butter and the garlic. Let that fry for 30 seconds.
We added 100ml of white wine into the pan (pouring ourselves each a ‘chef’s perks’ glass too). We let the alcohol cook off and reduce down. Chef D’oeuf enjoyed putting his head over the pan to inhale the alcohol fumes during this process. I wish I was joking.

Once that’s reduced, add 50ml of double cream (or creme fraiche if you’re a monster, just use cream you sycophant) and cook down to your preferred thickness.
Season with salt and pepper. Or if you’re Chef D’oeuf don’t taste your sauce and definitely don’t season it because tasting anything you are cooking while you are cooking it ruins the surprise once you finally get to eat it. Very sound logic there. I wonder if anyone has ever shared this tip with Gordon Ramsey? I have a feeling he’d be shoving a slice of sourdough either side of Chef D’oeufs head and brandishing him an idiot sandwich. Which would be justified in my opinion.
Anyway, where was I. Boil your fresh pasta (for about a minute) and serve in your creamy sauce, adorning with freshly grated parmesan (veggie alternative for Chef D’oeuf who had to find out the hard way that Parmesan is not cow-friendly).

For the bruschetta
I have no set quantities for this recipe because if you’re measuring tomato and onions for bruschetta something has gone badly wrong in your life and you need to just stop and trust your instincts more.
Also, me even calling this a “recipe” is like that time when Nigella Lawson showed the nation how to make avocado on toast and everyone went absolutely nuts. I don’t pay £145 per year for my TV license to watch Nigella flirt with me through the screen and show me how to mash an avocado. So please don’t post any angry messages about how un-recipe-like this recipe is.
In a bowl, mix some freshly chopped tomatoes (try to remove the seeds as much as you can, and the more crazy varieties of tomatoes the better), fresh basil and thin slices of red onion (not too much as can overpower the tomatoes). Add a generous glug of olive oil and a sprinkling of salt and pepper.
Toast a few slices of bread (sourdough works well but ciabatta might be nice too) and once ready drizzle with a little olive oil and rub on a garlic clove (skip this step if you’re trying to woo your fellow dinner).
Pile the tomato mix on the now oiled and ready to go bread and top with some burrata because so far this meal has simply not had enough, cream, butter or cheese.

Mario would be proud.