This is hardly breaking news (you’ve read it in practically every post that comprises the blog's Pasta Series) but for the umpteenth time: getting in to pasta making was one of the most best and most exciting things to happen to me last year. Learning to make my own pasta has allowed me to stretch my (culinary) wings, given me a new hobby that I’ll tell you all about (sorry in advance if you don’t find hydration ratios or egg vs semola pasta as interesting as I do!) and, in cheesy but accurate terms, has become a true passion. Up until recently, my pasta education had always been smooth sailing, and, well, I kind of considered myself a natural.

But that was before I met trofie.

Ehem: while I got along swimmingly with paunchy ravioli and ridge-y malloreddus and seashell-shaped cavatelli, twisty, twirly, catch-me-if-you-can trofie and I did not get off to such a good start.

Before I get ahead of myself: trofie (tro-fee-yeh) hail from Liguria and are a short, curvy pasta traditionally served with pesto alla genovese (basil and pine nut pesto). They caught my attention last year when I witnessed my friend Julia — you may remember her from this post here — make them, pasta expert that she is. I was intrigued; here was a pasta shaped without the use of a knife or board, formed instead with one swift, purposeful, and mysterious swipe of the hand. SO mysterious in fact that, despite my best efforts to recreate the shape at home (and even with a Julia-coaching session) I produced trofie that, well, weren't trofie at all, but rather small, trampled pieces of pasta that stuck to my hand or at best, pasta sticks devoid of any curve to speak of.

In little time I concluded that trofie were fickle, elusive, and much less forthcoming than other pasta shapes, at least for me (other pasta-making friends had breezed through them). Trofie became my personal holy grail, mystical, elusive, slipping out of grasp just when I thought I’d gotten the hang of it. “Don’t worry,” Julia told me. “It takes practice. And anyways, not every pasta shape is for everyone; just focus on the ones that work for you.”

I grappled briefly with this – how could a pasta shaped just like a Harry Potter-esque lightning bolt not be for me?! – but life got busy, and I moved on to other pastas, at least until this past March. For better or worse, I found myself with more time on my hands during the lockdown, or rather, the opportunity to master this shape months after my first unsuccessful attempts. Trofie practice became a great way to pass the time – mixed in with Skype calls and at home workouts -- and, with a little perseverance, the little pasta sticks began to zig and then eventually zag and then turned into something resembling trofie, and then, one day -- after lots of experimenting, and reasoning, and trial and error -- my trofie went spiral, miraculously emerging from beneath my hand as proper, twirly trofie. Progress below:

To call it a victory would be an understatement. “You deserve a trofie,” commented a friend of mine who had patiently displayed interest while I chronicled my progress. “Get it? Not a trophy but a trofie!”

(Maybe a trophy made of trofie?!)

The moral of the story here? With a little perseverance, and patience – and potentially inspiration from that Michael Jordan documentary you watched while in lockdown? – anything is possible, even if your anything is a challenging pasta shape.

But I digress! Here’s the deal: like most pasta made with semola, these have a little more chew and a pleasant bite to them; as per tradition, I’ve served them here with pesto, but shaken things up with one made with walnuts instead of pine nuts, plus the the addition of cherry tomatoes (not unlike this pesto alla trapanese). This makes for a pesto that is tomato-y and and buttery and fresh and herby all at once with a little crunch thanks to the walnuts, and when tossed with just-cooked, hard-won trofie, well — it makes for a dinner that’s too good for words. Having said this, I’ve also served these trofie with zucchini, lemon and Parmesan, Pecorino and peas, and tuna, olives, and tomatoes — as you can imagine, my numerous practice sessions added up to, erm, a small mountain of trofie that needed eating. (She didn’t say it, but I’m pretty sure my sister is ready to eat something other than trofie).

I’ll be in Naples this weekend (taking one tentative step outside of the city post-lockdown) so stay tuned for a post on that, as well as a few more ultra-Summery posts.

A couple of notes: I use Mulino Marino or De Cecco semola; I recommend either of these. Keep in mind that trofie take practice, but are well worth it; however if you're not in to pasta making (crazy you!) you can always serve this pesto over dried pasta, I won't tell. Please feel free to send me an email if you would like more tutorials on trofie making. Finally, you can also dry these (I leave them out over night, separated so they don’t stick together) until completely hardened, then store them in sealed tupperware or a plastic bag.

Want to know what the other recipes are in my blog's Pasta Series? Click here!

TROFIE AL PESTO

Serves 4-5.

Ingredients for the trofie:
300 grams semola
150 grams of warm water

Ingredients for the pesto:
8 cherry tomatoes
About 1/2 cup (50 grams) of walnuts
1/2 cup (50 grams) of freshly grated Parmesan
A large bunch of basil
1 clove of garlic
Olive oil as needed
Salt and pepper

Directions:
To make your pesto, start by cutting an X in the bottom of each tomato. Blanch them for 1 minute in a pot of boiling water, then strain them and let them cool. Remove the tomato skins and then squeeze the tomatoes to get rid of the seeds and any liquid inside.

Next, process the tomatoes, basil, walnuts, garlic, and a bit of salt and pepper in a food processor, adding olive oil in through the feed as you go until the pesto is nice and smooth (you can eyeball the quantity of olive oil here -- I always do). Once the pesto is blended, place it in a bowl and stir in the Parmesan cheese, tasting for salt and pepper. Set aside.

2.) Now on to your pasta! We'll follow the usual procedure for semola dough here, as per other posts: place the semola in a large bowl and pour in the water. Use your hands to get the dough to form a shaggy mass, and then squeeze it together to get the water incorporated and make the dough come together.

3.) Turn your pasta dough out on to a clean work surface or pasta board and knead it for 10 or so minutes, or until it is smooth and shiny. You can see how to knead the pasta here. The dough is ready when you touch it with your finger and it springs back (note that the imprint of your finger will remain and that is fine). Wrap the dough well in plastic wrap, or place it under an overturned bowl, and let it rest for at least half an hour.

4.) Now on to shaping the trofie! Cut off a piece of dough (enough to fit in to and be covered by your palm) and keep your fist closed around it, so it doesn't dry out. Next, use your other hand (right hand in my case -- I'm right handed) to tear off a pea-sized piece of dough.

5.) Roll the pea-sized piece of dough forwards with your free hand to elongate it a little bit, making sure that the dough ends up on your lower palm, and then use said lower palm to drag the dough back towards you. This should all be done in one fluid motion, and as I say above, takes practice. If this sounds confusing, never fear! See an example video I posted here or send an email to pancakesbiscottiblog@gmail.com if you'd like me to send a longer tutorial that I think breaks it down pretty well (and is too long to fit on Instagram).

Otherwise, here’s an easier way that I learned from Julia at Grano & Farina: you can also roll out said piece of pasta with your hand slightly. Position it at an angle. Take your bench cutter, hold it up in front of you, and drag the pasta down towards your side to make it curl. They will look like the trofie below, a little different than those made by hand but still quite twisty. Having said that, the hand motion way is more efficient. Feel free to also send me an email if you would like a video on how to do this!

6.) Cook the trofie in a pot of boiling salted water for anywhere from 7-8 minutes; to see if they're cooked, take one out and taste to see if it is cooked throughout. Drain the trofie and toss them with the pesto, and dig in.