Handmade Noodles - With only appetite as your guide

Anyone can make noodles like the ones above that were hand-kneaded, rolled through a hand-cranked machine and cut with a sharp knife by hand. - The Observer/BRYAN PEARSON

Since then, I’ve revised my pre-travel routine to ensure more comfortable trips. Hand-cranking strangely stiff dough through the tiny gap between the metal rollers of a pasta machine was a recipe for sore shoulders.

Also on the menu that night was pizza caccia nanza with garlic and rosemary and a marinara sauce to go with the noodles made with roasted red bell pepper. Five hours later (I started at 4 p.m. and dinner was served at 9), I collapsed on the couch, covered here and there with flour and tomato sauce.

I didn’t know what I was doing. Foolishly, I assumed pasta dough was like bread dough, a thing I’d had my fingers in so many times over the previous few years.

Unlike most bread doughs, pasta dough should have a minimal amount of moisture and of course does not include a leavening agent. I think part of what makes kneading a lot of bread doughs feel good and familiar is the presence of these very things.

The consensus at the dinner table was that the meal was good, but I wasn’t thrilled with my noodles. Besides the dough feeling foreign in my hands, after I cut the noodles, I failed to coat them with flour to prevent them from sticking to each other and they did. I also didn’t make a big enough batch for everyone (six of us) and had to supplement the meal with packaged noodles. And, yet again, I struggled with following the recipe exactly. I felt like a slave to it, but it didn’t yield perfect results either.

When I made my first loaf of bread, I knew it was an activity that I would want to continue doing. I liked the feeling of offering something simple like bread to people I enjoyed. My first batch of noodles came into the world sticking together, but I felt the same way about them. Just like bread, noodles taste great homemade, no matter what.

Though I’m still a beginner, I’m now more at ease with making noodles and have found what works for me.

Pasta dough should have a low moisture content, but this presents a problem for the beginner since a moist, but not wet, dough is much easier to handle than a dry dough.

A dough that is too dry will crack and crumble as you pull it through the hand-crank machine. A too-wet dough will get stuck in the rollers or won’t go through at all and at the very least, will have a rough uneven texture that will have a soggy noodle mouth feel when it is cooked.

For the beginner (like me), it’s easier to have a slightly wetter dough. In general, this means that I estimate one standard-sized egg (which I consider kind of small) to each 3/4 to 1 cup of flour (depending on the humidity of the room). In the very early stages of making the pasta, if it seems dry, I add an extra tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil. Some people also add milk, claiming it makes a more tender dough, or water.

Some food sources insist that home cooks can make pasta with all-purpose flour. The suggestion makes sense — American homes most often have AP flour in the pantry and not semolina.

From durum wheat’s endosperm, gritty semolina has a much higher gluten content than AP flour. AP flour is made from a combination of hard and soft wheat berries resulting in a flour with a gluten content in between pastry flour which is suitable for baked goods that doesn’t need structure and “bread flour,” which makes heartier breads dependent on structure. My guess is that AP flour was developed in an effort to standardize pantries and to make a multi-tasking product, and it is not always the best choice.

Pasta is supposed to be resilient — elastic yet cohesive. Semolina, with its high gluten content helps pasta makers give this characteristic to their noodles.

My recipe uses a one-to-one ratio of semolina and AP flour. The only reason I can find for this choice is economy, though others give different reasons. I think part of the loyalty to this one to one ratio is that AP flour is a staple and, having a permanent spot in the pantry, has become comforting.

I don’t recommend making an all-AP noodle, though. I never had wonderful results with it, and I think semolina pasta dough is nicer to work with and tastes better. Also, I think it’s easy for an all-AP noodle to turn into a dumpling if the gluten isn’t fully developed. If the gluten isn’t there, it can’t handle being rolled thin enough. A thicker pasta must be cooked longer, resulting in a soggy noodle.

Here is the method of making pasta that works for me. I measure by eye and work by feel. It is certain that the beginner will have a few first batches that are unworkable, but like grandmas everywhere say, “that’s how we learn.” Recruit a volunteer to help with kneading and cranking the machine.

Intuition Pasta

Semolina flour and AP unbleached flour, equal parts

2 eggs

olive oil

salt

1. Bring eggs to room temperature.

2. In a large bowl, or on a board, add equal parts semolina flour and AP flour, about 3/4 cups each.

Mix in a large pinch of salt and whisk together to incorporate and aerate.

3. Make a well in the flours and break the eggs in.

For a first-time pasta maker, I would recommend adding about a tablespoon and a half of olive oil into the well too.

4. With your middle and pointer finger, a pair of chopsticks or a fork, start whisking the eggs in a tight motion, incorporating the flour slowly and steadily.

5. When there’s no more excess moisture, bring the mixture together like you’re forming the base of a sand castle. Move dough to a board if you started in a bowl. No kneading at this point.

The aim is to determine how much flour the mass will accept. Don’t force it.

Keep doing this until the dough is beginning to become consistent.

6. If there is any dry flour that won’t incorporate easily, let the dough sit for a few minutes while you scrub the bowl or your hands. The idea is you’re letting the flour absorb the moisture slowly.

7. Try kneading again. If the excess flour refuses to incorporate, it’s OK, just discard (usually two tablespoons maximum). If the dough feels wet, add more flour, sprinkle by sprinkle.

The amount of flour that ultimately goes into the dough varies depending on the moisture content of the flour which depends on the day and the room you’re kneading in. It also depends on your method of bringing the dough together.

8. Once the dough is consistent, knead for about 10 minutes. Make sure that you can knead with your arms straight down, ensuring that you can utilize your body weight to work the stiff dough.

9. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap (I use a clean produce bag) and let it rest for a minimum of 30 minutes.

10. Roll dough out until it is flat enough to fit through the pasta machine set to the widest gap. It doesn’t have to be as thin as the gap. Run it through on the widest setting again.

11. Then, run the dough through the machine, changing the setting smaller and smaller, all the way down to the thinnest setting.

12. Cut the pasta using the pasta machine cutter or do like I do, and slice them by hand, using only your appetite as a guide.

13. As soon as the noodles are cut, toss them in flour so that they don’t stick.

Fresh pasta cooks in no time at all, a minute tops, in well-salted boiling water. If you prefer to dry them for cooking later, they’ll stiffen sufficiently overnight and need to boil much longer.

Homemade noodles, I think, are best unsauced, with maybe only a drizzle of olive oil, some garlic and salt and pepper. My favorite noodle shape is the wide and long pappardelle. Of course, they’ll taste good in any shape with any sauce.

Eden Kruger is the news assistant at The Observer. Reach her at This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it .