This month, I’ve given myself the challenge of learning to like things that I usually don’t. My first assignment: beets. I don’t hate them, and there are certainly times I’ve enjoyed them. But I’m just not really a beet person—their earthiness has always been a little overpowering and off-putting. So, I figured if I’m going to find a way to like them—even love them—then what better place to start than pasta? And I don’t mean hiding their flavor in favor of their color to make pretty pink dough—no, I’m going all in, embracing this winter root vegetable in all its earthy, sweet glory. Which brings me to our February Pasta of the Month: casunziei, half-moon ravioli from Veneto and Lombardy.
Casunziei, like “ravioli” and “tortelli,” is a term used liberally to describe an array of stuffed pastas. They’ve been around since at least the 14th century—when they were filled with cheese, pears, and spices—and so there’s been ample time for evolution (by the 19th century, they leaned sweeter, filled with amaretti and candied fruit). Several variations hail from Lombardy in Italy’s north, seated between Emilia-Romagna and Switzerland, flush with the riches of the Alps and Po river. In the city of Brescia, casunziei are stuffed with meat and spiced with nutmeg; in Val Camonica, they’re brimming with potatoes, salami, sausage, spinach, and cheese. Fillings are seasonal, too: In spring, these paper-thin crescents are tinged purple with radicchio; in summer, their bellies glow green with wild spinach; in autumn, they’re bright with orange and yellow from roasted pumpkin. But it’s their winter ensemble that’s perhaps most enticing, and also most popular: ruby red beets.
Beet casunziei are not from Lombardy but from neighboring Veneto, and particularly the town of Cortina d’Ampezzo in the heart of the Dolomites. Today, Cortina d’Ampezzo is a skiing destination for the wealthy, its soaring trails so sought-after that it hosted the Winter Olympics in 1956 (and it’ll co-host the 2026 Winter Olympics with Milan). Sports aside, this picturesque Alpine town has long been a cultural hub, attracting renowned intellectuals, writers, and artists throughout the centuries. For much of that time, Cortina d’Ampezzo was ruled by the Hapsburgs and Austrian Empire, influence that’s still prominent in its hearty food, like goulash-style meat stews, potato and meat pies, and apple strudel. Veneto’s preference for rice and polenta reigns here, too, though some pasta sneaks through the cracks: Chenedi, breadcrumb dumplings filled with speck, lard, spinach, and cheese, and served in broth or with brown butter, are particularly popular. And, of course, there are casunziei.
You won’t be surprised to know that even within the confines of this particular dish—called casunziei all’ampezzana—recipes vary from house to house, family to family. Although dishes like this were (and still are) reserved for holidays and special occasions, casunziei all’ampezzana have always been considered a humble meal, made cheaply from the vegetables in backyard gardens or that grew wild in the fields or along the side of the road. Some current versions feature beets and ricotta, maybe some breadcrumbs and/or eggs for binding, and usually spices like pepper and nutmeg. Others, the more traditional, combine beets and potatoes, or beets and yellow turnips. Still others include smoked ricotta. All are so vibrant that their rosiness shines spectacularly through the pasta, and all are dressed in melted butter and a generous sprinkling of poppy seeds.
Keeping tradition in mind, but also my task of trying to make a beet dish that I not only like but maybe even love, I created a filling that draws on several classic iterations. The use of smoked cheese, to me, is especially brilliant, and I think takes this recipe over the edge; potatoes, too, balance the beets’ earthiness and ensure a lovely silky texture. I was prepared to tell you if this experiment went awry and that, although a valiant effort, I just didn’t really like it. But I am thrilled instead to say that this will turn any beet-hater into a beet-lover. It was so good that, after devouring a plate of it while shooting (and my husband polishing off the leftovers that night), the next day I made more of these beet-stuffed jewels and ate them again the following evening. This is unprecedented for me, especially with stuffed pastas, since I admittedly much prefer heartier shapes like orecchiette to delicate, butter-slicked ravioli.
So, not only do I hope you give these a try because they’re downright delicious—can you tell I’m feeling pretty good about myself?—but I also think they’re a great festive contender for the upcoming holiday, Valentine’s Day. They’re simple to make, so they’re ideal for beginners, while being romantic and refined enough to suit more experienced pasta-makers and palates. And if you, like me, aren’t the biggest fan of beets but dare to make these anyway, I’d love to know if they changed your mind as they did mine.
Beet & Potato Ravioli with Butter & Poppy Seeds
Casunziei all’ampezzana
Serves 4 to 6