no-egg potato & mint ravioli
a celebratory treat, inspired by sardinia
Yesterday, I turned 35. I’m not one to give birthdays much weight, but this one felt big, like I’d officially crossed some invisible threshold from less-real adulthood into real-real adulthood. Like many of my generation, I have yet to check off most traditional real-real-adulthood milestones like having a kid or a house or a white picket fence—but I still feel different, in some minute, inexplicable way. And (I’ve heard) with that slight shift into being older and wiser, comes caring more about being true to yourself and less about what other people think. So here’s my truth: Nine times out of ten, I prefer dumplings—Afghani, Chinese, Georgian, Jewish, Polish, Turkish, and everything in between—over pretty much all Italian stuffed pastas. All except one: culurgiones.
Culurgiones are fat, potato-stuffed ravioli from the mountainous province of Ogliastra in eastern Sardinia. Unlike the regal agnolotti of Piedmont and tortellini of Emilia-Romagna, culurgiones follow the pasta traditions of the south, forgoing the luxury of eggs and soft wheat flour for durum wheat and water. Without the eggs, culurgiones are springy, like many of the aforementioned dumplings, rather than delicate, like tortelli. That’s not to say they’re simple fare: Culurgiones are, in my experience, one of the most difficult pastas to make. (This is unsurprising in the context of Sardinia’s substantial repertoire of complicated pasta shapes, like lorighittas and su filindeu, the world’s rarest pasta of all). Although the “wheat-spike” folding technique—almost identical to a Chinese leaf-shaped, zipper-pleated dumpling, but with the added challenge of a soft potato filling—is widespread, recipes vary, even within the small area of Ogliastra: In some towns, the filling includes mint, garlic, and even goat’s curd in addition to the potatoes, while in others, just potatoes and Pecorino Sardo will do; culurgiones are often served with tomato sauce, but sometimes they’re eaten “in bianco” with olive oil and pecorino.
I’ve made—or rather, attempted—culurgiones on multiple occasions, and each time I’ve managed maybe one or two good ones for every three failures. Still, I enjoy the practice, and even more the result: Pretty or ugly, culurgiones are always delicious and, dare I say, the perfect celebratory stuffed pasta for a dumpling lover’s birthday. Of course, I have no intention of sharing a recipe for a pasta I would categorize as “advanced,” one I myself have yet to fully master. Instead, I thought it would be fun to take its traditional flavors and make it, well, easier. So here we are: equally elegant-but-definitely-easier, bite-sized ravioli that have the familiar hallmarks of culurgiones—chewy egg-free dough, luscious potato filling, bright tomato sauce—while also being something entirely new.
PS: If you’re staying home for the long weekend, these ravioli would be a great addition to your menu; if you’re venturing outside, might I suggest these picnicky and otherwise simple, summery pastas:
No-Egg Potato & Mint Ravioli with Easy Tomato Sauce
Serves 4 to 6