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2005-03-09
What could be more romantic than whiling away the hours in a snug Flatbush Avenue walk-up, making ravioli with the person you adore?
Or, so it might have been for Francine Stephens and Andrew Feinberg, the owners of Franny's in Prospect Heights, Brooklyn, if it weren't for the presence of a reporter.
"It's no big deal," Ms. Stephens said. "Ever since we opened Franny's last spring, we've gotten used to not spending a lot of time together alone."
"If opening a restaurant hasn't killed our relationship, nothing will," she added, raising an eyebrow toward Mr. Feinberg, who stood in the couple's tiny but bright galley kitchen, squishing egg yolks and flour in a big metal bowl.
He looked down and directed conversation away from their relationship and to his relationship with the matter at hand: pasta, in this case Meyer lemon-ricotta ravioli.
"Pasta is my favorite food," he said in a low voice as he plopped the dough onto the counter. "Or at least it's my favorite starch. I like pasta better than pizza."
Isn't it odd then, to have opened a restaurant that many consider to have the best pizza in all of New York?
"It was a business decision," Ms. Stephens said, pouring out three glasses of bubbly water and handing them around. "Even though we like pasta a little better, we thought more people would come and eat pizza. When we first opened, we had pasta on the menu, too. As we got busier, it got to be too much for the kitchen, and Andrew decided to take it off, though people still ask for it, and I have to tell them no."
"Sometimes we think about putting it back on," she added, smiling cajolingly at Mr. Feinberg, who was unmoved.
He said, "For me, pasta is the hardest thing to cook perfectly, and it can't be on the menu if it's not perfect." He spoke in a tone that said, "End of conversation, at least in front of company."
The homemade pasta he was making, however, was obviously perfect, or as nearly perfect as a perfectionist could admit.
"Look at the color," Mr. Feinberg said, fondly eyeing the smooth, marigold-hued ball of dough he had kneaded. It was the same shade as the lemons piled in a bowl on the dining table. "The fresh pasta I ate in Italy looked like this. A lot of fresh pasta recipes use whole eggs. This is all yolk, which gives it that color and makes it really rich."
The richness, he said, plays well against the simplicity of the filling, just fresh ricotta, Parmesan and the raison d'être of the dish, freshly grated Meyer lemon zest.
"You could use regular lemons," Mr. Feinberg admitted when pressed, "or a combination of lemon and orange zest. But Meyer lemons are special. They've got a great perfume, which adds a lot to the dish."
Mr. Feinberg first encountered the Meyer lemon, a lemon-orange hybrid, while he was cooking at Savoy in SoHo, where he worked for three years before opening Franny's.
Savoy was also where he first encountered Ms. Stephens.
After she lost her job at a nonprofit agency that folded, her brother suggested that she take a bartending course, Ms. Stephens explained as she sat cross-legged on a chair while her husband rolled out pasta dough.
"I thought, that's cool, I'll be a bartender until I figure out what else to do," she said. She knew the restaurant's owner, Peter Hoffman, from her freelance work on a newsletter about sustainable seafood. "So I was bartending, and Andrew was the chef de cuisine. We met, and two months later we eloped to Amalfi."
Mr. Feinberg said: "We just knew. When you know, you know. You know?"
He glanced up at Ms. Stephens from his pasta dough, which he was feeding through a roller attachment to an electric mixer. As the dough emerged in a thin sheet, he wrapped it around his shoulders like a shawl, keeping it in one very long piece. With a fluted pasta wheel cutter that he had carried back from Italy, he cut the dough in manageable lengths, then dabbed on mounds of ricotta filling, folding the dough over and sealing it meticulously, pressing out each air bubble with his fingers.
"If you don't get the air bubbles out, the raviolis will blow up in the water," he said, sealing the raviolis again, just in case.
Next he used the cutter to trim the ravioli into precise two-inch squares.
"You have to trim the excess dough to make sure there's equal pasta to filling," he said.
While the ravioli boiled without exploding, Mr. Feinberg made the sauce, a creamy mix of butter, more Meyer lemon zest and pasta cooking water that he emulsified by swirling the pan vigorously. ("It would have been good if I remembered to bring the whisk from work," he said.) Meanwhile, Ms. Stephens set the table. The arrangement mimicked their roles at the restaurant, where he is the chef and she oversees the dining room. Keeping their spheres separate is a key part of their success in marriage and work.
"We each have our strengths and talents," Ms. Stephens said. "Andrew's interest is in cooking. Period. He's not interested in catering to customers. I take care of that. And I'm not a cook. Before I met Andrew, I'd eat cereal for dinner every night."
Now she eats pizza most nights, with the occasional pasta on Mondays, when the restaurant is closed. This ravioli, however, was beyond his usual repertory.
Mr. Feinberg brought over the satiny, lemon-colored pasta in a fragrant citrus butter sauce and plenty of Parmesan cheese. It made a perfect starter for a romantic lunch for two. I mean three.
Recipe: Meyer Lemon-Ricotta Ravioli
Adapted from Andrew Feinberg
Time: 80 minutes, plus 30 minutes to rest dough
For pasta dough (see note):
1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1/8 teaspoon kosher salt
6 large fresh egg yolks
Semolina or cornmeal for dusting
For filling:
1 1/2 cups fresh ricotta cheese
1/3 cup (1 ounce) freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon finely grated Meyer lemon zest
10 turns freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
For sauce:
12 tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter
2 tablespoons finely grated Meyer lemon zest
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Grated Parmesan cheese, for serving.
1. Put flour and salt in a large bowl. Add yolks, and use a fork to mix them into the flour. Turn dough out onto a floured surface, and knead for about 8 minutes or until dough is smooth. If dough seems sticky, add up to 2 tablespoons more flour. Knead dough a few times by hand to form an elastic ball, wrap it in plastic, and let rest for a half-hour.
2. Stir together all ingredients for filling.
3. Set up a pasta roller, and spread a large work surface with kitchen towels. Divide dough in thirds, and pass each through widest setting twice. Reduce roller width one setting, and again run each piece of dough through twice. Continue through each setting until all three pieces of dough have gone through rollers at narrowest setting (No. 7 on most pasta machines). As you work lay sheets of pasta on towels, covering them with more towels to keep them moist.
4. To fill ravioli, place a teaspoonful of filling at 1_-inch intervals about 1 inch from edge of one length of dough. Dip a pastry brush in water, and brush dough around filling, moistening all the way to edges. Fold dough lengthwise over filling, and press around each scoop, pushing out any air and sealing ravioli. Use a crimped pasta wheel cutter (or press down with blade of a serrated knife) to slice through dough halfway between each scoop of filling, then trim edges to create 2-inch squares. Press edges to seal completely. Dust finished ravioli with semolina or cornmeal. Cover with a kitchen towel and refrigerate for up to 1 day if not using immediately.
5. For sauce, melt butter in a large skillet with lemon zest and salt and pepper to taste.
6. To cook ravioli, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add ravioli and cook just until very al dente, about 2 to 3 minutes. Use a slotted spoon or skimmer to scoop ravioli into a colander. Measure 2/3 cup pasta cooking water and gradually whisk it into butter sauce until it is smooth and creamy. Add ravioli, toss to coat with sauce, and simmer for 1 minute. Serve immediately, passing more Parmesan cheese at the table.
Yield: 6 servings.
Note: You can also buy the pasta dough. Raffetto's, at (212) 777-1261, will roll it to order for ravioli (2-pound minimum at $1.85 per pound; leftover dough can be frozen). Or buy fresh lasagna noodles and run them through a pasta machine as directed above.