Rachel Roddy's recipes for easy summer pasta | A kitchen in Rome

There were two sacks of flour in the middle of the table. Laura, who was teaching me how to make a shape of pasta called strascinati, unrolled the tops of the bags, which sent puffs of white into the air. She then suggested that I put my right hand in one bag and my left in the other. Taking advantage of the lucky dip approach, I put a hand in an almost silky softness. It was grano tenero, or soft wheat flour, Laura explained, pouring us some tea. Meanwhile, my other hand encountered something completely different, gritty and sandy - grano duro, hard or durum wheat flour, she noted, as I lifted my hands out bags. I knew both, but I had never studied them side by side. Two wheats, one soft, one hard; one dusty white and smooth, the other rough and sandy yellow. I rubbed both hands on my apron.

The word "pasta" comes from Latin, which borrows from the Greek πάστη (paste), or a mixture of liquid and flour. Any flour! The universe of pasta includes shapes made from chestnut, acorn, rice, broad bean, chickpea, barley, buckwheat and corn flour. Most forms, however, are made from one of two wheat flours: grano tenero, which is often ground to a fine "00" in Italy , and what you need to make fresh egg pasta like tagliatelle, lasagna and ravioli; or grano duro, the second most cultivated species and the most resistant variety, the Muhammad Ali of wheat. Yellow in color, the hardness of durum wheat means it breaks when ground. Coarsely ground, it produces semolina for couscous, soup, breads and blood sausages. Grinded twice, it becomes flour, semola rimacinata in Italian, durum semolina flour in the UK, the legally stipulated flour for all forms of dry pasta. Look at any package of pasta in your cupboard, and the ingredients will be two: durum wheat semolina and water. It's also the bag you want to get your hands on for making flour and water pasta at home.

That was ages ago years now, but Laura's two bags are still my go-to for pasta flour, not least because a playful approach isn't a bad idea when making pasta, and the childish instructions are by far the most succinct. On your largest surface – wood is ideal, but not necessary – make a mountain with 400g of durum wheat semolina flour. Then use your fist to swirl the mountain into a wide volcanic crater (Caldera Blanca in Lanzarote is a good visual aid here). The proportions are about 2:1, so measure out 200ml of lukewarm water and pour it into the crater. Suddenly (in which case be prepared for a frantic pursuit) or little by little. Either way, the gathering mound will look hopeless; too dry or too wet. Have confidence and keep pinching, squeezing and scooping up crumbs until you have a steep mass that smells like semolina pudding. Italian recipes rarely give kneading advice beyond sodo e ben lavorato ("firm and well worked"). That's not a bad thing no matter what works, and remember you were given a cold piece of playdough or modeling clay when you were a kid. Chances are you didn't think or worry; you simply pressed, kneaded and pounded the steep mass with your warm hands until it was smooth and flexible enough to mold.

What did you done with modeling clay mass? Worms (vermicelli)? Mouse tails (code di topo)? Rings (anelli)? Did you squeeze the dough through the dough press to make strings (spaghetti) or willies? Or roll a clod against a rough surface (gnocchi)? Make fingerprints in a canoe (strascinati) or cut a ball with the thumb (cavatelli), or tear off an ear (orecchiette)? Even if you were a young Peter Lord and sculpted monsters, chances are you created at least four shapes in the process, all preparations for making pasta.

Another preparation is making a rope. Cut the ball of dough into quarters, place three under an overturned bowl so they don't dry out, then, using the hollows of your palms, form a quarter into a rope about 12mm thick. Now cut a 1cm piece, press your index finger in the center and slide it towards you, the idea being that it curves or even turns over, and you have cavato, which means you gave in to the crowd and made acavatello. Another way to make cavatelli is to roll a root ball against something ridged or rough - a butter spatula, grater, or basket.

To to make orecchiette, which means little ears, use a knife to slide the mass into a circle that curls around the edges, then invert it to look like an ear or a little cup. Put on some music, pour yourself a glass of wine or a cup of tea, and make another, and another, and another.

Of course, flour and water based pasta can be rolled through a pasta machine too, a...

Rachel Roddy's recipes for easy summer pasta | A kitchen in Rome

There were two sacks of flour in the middle of the table. Laura, who was teaching me how to make a shape of pasta called strascinati, unrolled the tops of the bags, which sent puffs of white into the air. She then suggested that I put my right hand in one bag and my left in the other. Taking advantage of the lucky dip approach, I put a hand in an almost silky softness. It was grano tenero, or soft wheat flour, Laura explained, pouring us some tea. Meanwhile, my other hand encountered something completely different, gritty and sandy - grano duro, hard or durum wheat flour, she noted, as I lifted my hands out bags. I knew both, but I had never studied them side by side. Two wheats, one soft, one hard; one dusty white and smooth, the other rough and sandy yellow. I rubbed both hands on my apron.

The word "pasta" comes from Latin, which borrows from the Greek πάστη (paste), or a mixture of liquid and flour. Any flour! The universe of pasta includes shapes made from chestnut, acorn, rice, broad bean, chickpea, barley, buckwheat and corn flour. Most forms, however, are made from one of two wheat flours: grano tenero, which is often ground to a fine "00" in Italy , and what you need to make fresh egg pasta like tagliatelle, lasagna and ravioli; or grano duro, the second most cultivated species and the most resistant variety, the Muhammad Ali of wheat. Yellow in color, the hardness of durum wheat means it breaks when ground. Coarsely ground, it produces semolina for couscous, soup, breads and blood sausages. Grinded twice, it becomes flour, semola rimacinata in Italian, durum semolina flour in the UK, the legally stipulated flour for all forms of dry pasta. Look at any package of pasta in your cupboard, and the ingredients will be two: durum wheat semolina and water. It's also the bag you want to get your hands on for making flour and water pasta at home.

That was ages ago years now, but Laura's two bags are still my go-to for pasta flour, not least because a playful approach isn't a bad idea when making pasta, and the childish instructions are by far the most succinct. On your largest surface – wood is ideal, but not necessary – make a mountain with 400g of durum wheat semolina flour. Then use your fist to swirl the mountain into a wide volcanic crater (Caldera Blanca in Lanzarote is a good visual aid here). The proportions are about 2:1, so measure out 200ml of lukewarm water and pour it into the crater. Suddenly (in which case be prepared for a frantic pursuit) or little by little. Either way, the gathering mound will look hopeless; too dry or too wet. Have confidence and keep pinching, squeezing and scooping up crumbs until you have a steep mass that smells like semolina pudding. Italian recipes rarely give kneading advice beyond sodo e ben lavorato ("firm and well worked"). That's not a bad thing no matter what works, and remember you were given a cold piece of playdough or modeling clay when you were a kid. Chances are you didn't think or worry; you simply pressed, kneaded and pounded the steep mass with your warm hands until it was smooth and flexible enough to mold.

What did you done with modeling clay mass? Worms (vermicelli)? Mouse tails (code di topo)? Rings (anelli)? Did you squeeze the dough through the dough press to make strings (spaghetti) or willies? Or roll a clod against a rough surface (gnocchi)? Make fingerprints in a canoe (strascinati) or cut a ball with the thumb (cavatelli), or tear off an ear (orecchiette)? Even if you were a young Peter Lord and sculpted monsters, chances are you created at least four shapes in the process, all preparations for making pasta.

Another preparation is making a rope. Cut the ball of dough into quarters, place three under an overturned bowl so they don't dry out, then, using the hollows of your palms, form a quarter into a rope about 12mm thick. Now cut a 1cm piece, press your index finger in the center and slide it towards you, the idea being that it curves or even turns over, and you have cavato, which means you gave in to the crowd and made acavatello. Another way to make cavatelli is to roll a root ball against something ridged or rough - a butter spatula, grater, or basket.

To to make orecchiette, which means little ears, use a knife to slide the mass into a circle that curls around the edges, then invert it to look like an ear or a little cup. Put on some music, pour yourself a glass of wine or a cup of tea, and make another, and another, and another.

Of course, flour and water based pasta can be rolled through a pasta machine too, a...

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