Monday, February 8, 2010

all I could think about was my play-dough factory days


Bryan and I have wanted to make our own pasta since the beginning of our project. Bryan fondly remembers makings spaghetti with his grandmother as a child. Not to mention that we were excited to make a product that was entirely on project. The wheat was grown organically on my father's farm and he and I recently ground it into pasta flour. The eggs of course came from our chickens and we used our own frozen vegetables from the garden in the flavored pastas.

Grandfather Siebels was kind enough to gift us Grandmother's old pasta machine. We were tickled to find the original receipts attached to the bottom of the machine. Includling the amount she had paid in cash and with a check. The only directions however were in Italian, thankfully we found many helpful videos on the internet to guide our noodle making adventure.

We spent two days making pasta, the ravioli was served deep fat fried for a super bowl party at Papa Steve's house. The rest of the pasta was shaped into carrot and beet flavored fettucini. We soon ran out of drying locations and converted two curtain rods in to pasta dryers. We decided that pasta curtains were definitely a whimsical addition to the kitchen. I was sadden to have to remove them after the drying period.
We greatly enjoyed the pasta creation but we were happy to pack the pasta maker back into the original box. It will be a few months before we again play with our adult "play"dough factory.


finally emerging from our winter malaise













While we are still in the middle of a possible blizzard, Bryan and I have begun to turn our thoughts toward spring. Temperatures in the low 30's over the last two weeks felt like a glorious heat wave. Even the chickens remerged from their coop and could be seen playing in the snow. Our heads are filled with seed orders and garden plans. Now we just have to wait out the next two months. We did finally hang our vertical cherry tomatoes in the windows. They will have to be hand pollinated, but at this point I'd sell my soul for a garden fresh tomato.













As we sit in the house, watching the snow fall outside the window, our farm designs spin rapidly out of control. Spring will be so wonderful, if it ever arrives.