In the same way that I never assume I'm going to wake up one morning and suddenly know how to play lacrosse or comprehend quantum physics, I never considered that I would one day, out of nowhere, suddenly have the capacity to make ravioli.
And yet, it happened (the ravioli part anyway).
So, exactly how did this clueless, neophyte ravioli maker end up with a perfectly sauced up plateful of these pillowy pleasure parcels? The answer, my friends, is wonton wrappers.
Here’s how it went down. When I impulsively bought my first-ever pack of wonton wrappers at the general store in Homer recently, I admittedly had no plan. But a quick googling — what can I make with wonton wrappers? — led me straight to the rapturous and unexpected prospect of ravioli. The mechanics seemed simple enough: make a filling, make a sauce and use egg white with a bit of water to act as the ravioli sealant.
Equally exciting to me as the notion of wonton wrappers as vessels of possibility was the fact that I had left a bag of spot prawns in the fridge to thaw. Once defrosted, I carefully peeled each prawn and saved their shells, with which I made a deep-flavored seafood stock. I was still operating without any real strategy or recipe per se, but the main principles of the dish — filling, sauce, vessel — seemed to be enough to drive my steps.
I started by sautéing diced onions, garlic, parsley and threw in the sliced prawns just at the end, until the aromas all grooved like band in the pan. I seasoned everything with salt and pepper and then I added about half a log of goat cheese. This glorious mixture — a creamy, cheesy, prawn-forward flavor bomb — would serve as my ravioli filling.
Then began the fill, which happened by:
- Laying one wonton wrapper on a plate
- Adding a healthy dollop of the filling to the center
- Laying a second wonton wrapper on top, aligning the edges of the wrappers as close as possible
- Carefully pressing the edges together, making sure to (gently) push all the air out
- Using a mixture of egg white and water to seal each edge of every ravioli
Then I brought a pot of salted water to boil, and carefully slid each ravioli in, one at a time.
After that, I added a hunk of butter and about two cups of the previously made seafood stock to the pan in which I had just cooked the creamy filling, plus a healthy glug of white wine and cream. This rich, umami gorgeousness would be my sauce.
To my surprise and great delight, the boiling raviolis held together well! And after a few minutes, they floated right to the top of the pot like a lovely lucid dream at dawn.
I drained and plated them, and spooned the sauce over them, pleased with myself for utilizing every part of the prawn to craft this unexpectedly successful dish.
I served them for dinner, now a more confident cook (and full of ideas for sauces and fillings, such as using captain cuts to make a creamy salmon ravioli!) — all thanks to my great ravioli revelation.
Live wild...and stay resourceful!
Monica
Pictured Above: Creamy, cheesy, garlicky spot prawn pasta perfection, also known as the wonderfully-fated moment during which I discovered that I could make something as iconic and delicious as ravioli — without even following a recipe!
