One year Mac was given an electric pasta machine and it transformed him into an Italian overnight. My home kitchen (not to mention my dining room) became an obstacle course, broomsticks loaded with drying fettucine seemed to be everywhere. Mac and his friends were fascinated by the pasta they were churning out, they had as much fun making the noodles as they did eating them. They were like kids with a new toy, and like kids with a new toy the novelty wore off and the machine was given to me.
The pasta machine was sent down to the restaurant, Mac had decided we would make lasagna with home-made noodles. A friend had shown Mac how to add spinach to the pasta dough, and that’s why Mac’s first lasagna was made with green noodles. I personally thought green noodles looked gross with the red meat sauce, but Mac wanted the “natural” touch so that’s what we used. I churned out the noodles as the sauce bubbled on the stove, and the staff watched as I started assembling that day’s special. Figuring the noodles would cook while the lasagna was baking I didn’t boil them, just layered them with the bechamel sauce, cheese and meat sauce and slid the pan into the oven. Have I mentioned this was the first time I had ever made lasagna??
I was wrong. The noodles were kind of stiff and doughy, I really DID need to boil them first. I made more pasta while my helper Keith salvaged the meat sauce and made more bechamel, and once the noodles had been boiled the result was better. I say “better” because I wasn’t happy with the green noodles; the lasagna didn’t look like something I would want placed in front of me at a restaurant, why did I have to serve it at MINE? Mac and his friends argued that the lasagna looked and tasted great, and against my better judgement it was added to the menu.
A few weeks later a group of Italians ordered the lasagna, and I was glad that Mac was in the dining room when they were served. They took one look at the lasagna and burst out laughing. We couldn’t understand what they were saying and didn’t need to, their expressions as they pointed at their meals said it all!
Mac was crestfallen when the Italians ridiculed his pasta (Mac really had a thing for those green noodles!), and from that night onwards the Pizzera’s lasagna was made with white noodles.
Mac’s next pasta experiment was fettucine with pesto sauce. I had never eaten pesto and therefore didn’t know how it was supposed to taste. An Italian friend had told Mac how to make it, and my taste buds shouted a big “NO!” when I took my first bite. The sweet basil from our garden was overwhelming and I thought it was dreadful on the green noodles. Yes, the pasta was still green! Mac and his friends thought the spinach fettucine with pesto sauce was delicious, and the following day it was offered as the daily special.
They very first person to order the fettucine was Robert Plant, a famous musician from the band “Led Zepplin”. I had met Robert before, his manager was a friend of mine, and I almost asked him to order something else. However, Mac was thrilled that Robert was going to try his “creation” so I filled the order with trepidation. The pasta went out to the dining room but it didn’t stay there long, Robert took one bite and sent it back to the kitchen. He was apologetic about it, saying,” sorry darling, but it just doesn’t work, does it”?
Robert Plant was absolutely right, it just didn’t work. I used that sentence every time Mac made a “creation” I didn’t like. “Sorry darling, but it just doesn’t work, does it?” Mac’s “Pasta Period” didn’t last long, soon I was buying good old Lancia noodles for the lasagna and I never tried serving pesto fettucine again!