To all you Italian craftswomen and men out there who spend hours a day meticulously stuffing and folding tortellini; grazie mille. Your work does not go unappreciated. Really. Look at these things! Sensual lines. Warm amber color. Flawlessly stuffed with subtly sweet pumpkin and creamy ricotta. Delicately packed and dusted with flour for transport home. Why can’t all food be this fussed-over and celebrated?
I regret not asking the name of the charming, middle-aged woman who made these stunning fresh tortellini, or at least taking note of the name of the small pasta shop, so you could support her efforts next time you find yourself in Bologna. (I do remember that it was on Via Sant’Isaia somewhere between Via Pietralata and Via di Marchi).
After a three minute bath in boiling water, a bit of fresh butter melted atop, I sat down with a fellow Italian student /Scottish friend over a good bottle of Sangiovese and honored them as best I could with all my “Ooh’s and Aah’s” of culinary gratitude. Yum. Grazie mille.