feast Pasta as philosophy
Evan Funke shares his pursuit for pasta perfection in American Sfoglino
The pleasure in being a sfoglino or sfoglina ( sfolYEE-NO or sfol-yee-na) — a maker of sheets of fresh pasta — lies in the pursuit of perfection. “It’s much more rewarding if you try and try and try, and fail and fail and fail,” says Los Angeles- based sfoglino Evan Funke. “Eventually when you roll something that is perfect in your eyes, it’s hugely rewarding.”
Rooted in Bolognese tradition and requiring little else than a smooth surface, a rolling implement, flour and water, Funke’s debut cookbook — American Sfoglino (with Katie Parla; Chronicle Books, 2019) — is an invitation to immerse yourself in the meditative process of pasta-making.
Through dedicating time and effort to working the dough, and rolling, cutting and shaping the pasta, you develop a visceral feel. An enjoyable project for cooks of all ages, if you have access to flour (and eggs for the accompanying strichetti recipe) now is an ideal time to dive in. “Make pasta,” says Funke. “Try making it by hand. Literally the worst that can happen is pasta.”
In a spirit of self- sufficiency — which lies at the heart of the craft itself as much as it stands to improve our current circumstances — Funke not only outlines how to roll pasta by hand in American Sfoglino (the fundamentals, shapes and dishes), but how to make the tools of the trade.
In Bologna, Funke says, sfoglini rely on a long, slim wooden pin called a mattarello to roll out a sfoglia (sfol-ee-a; sheet of pasta) on a large wooden board called a tagliere. For burgeoning sfoglini, though, you need only a countertop or table and a rolling pin (even a wine bottle will do). Sanding a dowel until smooth to fashion a mattarello and honing a large slab of Baltic birch, pine or maple to create a tabular rolling surface, he impresses, only adds to the satisfaction of the practice.
“The ingenuity of pasta-making — pasta shapes and pasta tools — was originally driven by poverty, and the necessity to produce shapes that were new and interesting. Because within these homes, they had very meagre means to feed people: flour and water. So what better way to keep things fresh and relevant than to make additional new shapes,” says Funke. “That goes for the telling and retelling of the story behind the shapes (as well). Whether it’s nonsense or actual history, all of this is to enrich something that is very, very simple.”
In 2007, Funke went to Bologna to study at La Vecchia Scuola Bolognese with “the maestra,” Alessandra Spisni — an eighttime world champion who has been making pasta by hand since she was six years old. The four master dough recipes and 14 pasta shapes he shares in American Sfoglino — encompassing the time-honoured (tagliatelle, lasagna) and the innovative (Spisni’s invention, the smeraldine) — reflect his training and intervening years of experimentation, which now takes place at Felix, his restaurant in Venice, Calif.
Funke opens American Sfoglino with profiles of two masters, Spisni and Kosaku Kawamura. “My pasta is a confluence of their two styles. The romance and love and rhythm of a Bolognese master, Alessandra. True motherly love and mentorship. Compassion and passion. Empathy,” he says. “And then the exacting, precision-driven mind of a Japanese shokunin (master craftsman) who only makes one shape (tagliatelle), and one shape only all day long. No matter if people buy it or not.”
True to custom, through Funke’s recipes, he highlights the attributes of various pasta shapes by partnering them with specific sauces. The shapes, he emphasizes — with the exception of pappardelle, which is originally from Tuscany — are “Bolognese to the core.” A snapshot of the shapes he learned from Spisni, the book is both a documentation and an ode.
“I fell in love with the approach. I fell in love with the terroir. I fell in love with Italy and their approach to living, farming and eating, and the rhythm of how they do things. It was so far and away different from what I had experienced in the kitchen. I think that what continues to drive me is just that,” says Funke.
“It’s the pursuit of excellence. It’s the pursuit of rolling the perfect sheet of pasta. But it’s also the pursuit of new-old information that is increasingly in danger of extinction because there’s no one left interested enough to be the vessel to pass the knowledge on … The juice for me is the knowledge. And then taking that knowledge, applying it to my pasta makers so that they will then take it and teach others. That’s what it’s all about.” Excerpted from American Sfoglino: A Master Class in Handmade Pasta by Evan Funke with Katie Parla (Chronicle Books). Text copyright © 2019 by Evan Funke. Photographs copyright © 2019 by Eric Wolfinger.