Well, both Tagliatelle and Ramen derive from the same Chinese dish 拉麺 (la mian), which roughly mean hand made noodles. There actually are three other interpretations of the same word as something related to «ancient noodles», «saucy noodles», «stirred up noodles»...the concept is barely the same. Apparently then the Platonic concept of noodles spread horizontally from Imperial China to Europe and to Japan.
Soba Ramen in broth
with chicken thigh, aubergine and leeks,
if my memory serves me correctly
[these dishes belong
to the Mark&Spencer collection
2007-2008]
My best friend is Japanese, an astonishing man, a superb fellow-lodger, and he introduced me to the fancy world of Ramen. I found it extraordinary fascinating. What we, in Italy, had basically drained up and dressed with whether juicy meat, or mushrooms, or cream, or fish, in Japan is still preserved as the origin prescribes.
You can imagine this food-evolution as what occurred to some leaving beings, when they came out from the sea: whereas some others, as the shark, kept themselves faithful to their undisturbed purity.
Tiger shark
What it's close to perfection rarely is also willing to produce inside itself a change: Japan 1 - Italy 0 then! So, let's just say Tagliatelle and Ramen are remote cousins.
Roll the pastry very thin with a wooden
rolling pin on a wooden bread board
Roll onto itself the pastry...
...and cut it with a knife
Tagliatelle always resembled me the blond hair of a goddess who left them as a divine gift. And here a possible story goes...
There is also a trick you may find interesting:
Atlas model (on amazon.co.uk)
Imperia model (on amazon.co.uk)
The right question would now be: how should I dress proper tagliatelle? The next two posts are about to develop this difficult argument: wild mushrooms and bolognese sauce (the real one!)
No comments:
Post a Comment