ravioli romance from the south of france

ravioles du dauphiné, for valentine's day

There is no shortage of romantic destinations in Europe, but I think we can all agree that none has captured the world’s heart quite so well as France. As a former art history student, I’ve long since fallen for French allure, its city lights and water lilies, dance halls and ballerinas—subjects of fascination and beauty and love. And just like their art, their language is rich and elegant and outrageously attractive, and their food, well—warranted or not, French food remains at the epicenter of fine dining. So, on the eve of the eve of Valentine’s Day, I’m taking us all to France for the next installment of our European pasta series, with ravioles du Dauphiné.

Like many Italian ravioli, ravioles du Dauphiné are square, stuffed parcels of dough. But unlike many Italian ravioli, they are small—incredibly so, at about ¾ of an inch—and typically prepared in sheets of six by eight, then separated during the cooking process. These ravioles are, perhaps, even older than their Italian cousins, possibly descended from an ancient Roman dish called “rissole” and formally recorded as “raviole” in the 13th century. Unsurprisingly, the dish is now associated with the region of Dauphiné, in southeastern France, and particularly the towns of Romans-sur-Isère and Pont-en-Royans (they are also called ravioles du Royans). Early iterations were filled with meat or vegetables, particularly turnip greens, the latter of which were favored by the poor and around Lent. Today, they are almost always filled with cheese—a tradition that, some claim, began in the 16th century by Italian woodcutters who had arrived in the French Alps from Piedmont.

If you, like me, associate French food with a mastery of dairy, then ravioles du Dauphiné are very French indeed. The most traditional variety is made with a combination of Comté, a nutty, luxurious Alpine cheese (and one of my favorites of all time); faisselle, a soft, raw milk fromage blanc; and parsley. The mixture is layered between very delicate sheets of dough and served simply with butter or olive oil, or baked au gratin. It’s a version of this recipe that was crafted by Marie-Louise Maury, who served them at her restaurant and first popularized the dish in the early 20th century. And it was Maury’s descendants who, in the 1950s, began producing ravioles on an industrial scale. So beloved has the dish become that it received Protected Geographical Indication (PGI) in 1989 and the prestigious Label Rouge (LR) in 1998—guarantees of quality and authenticity, requiring particular (local) ingredients and production methods.

Although ravioles du Dauphiné have long since captured French hearts, their popularity is more recent here in the States. It was only a couple of years ago that I remember seeing these chic sheets of ravioli all over social media—a trend started in New York City by Café Chelsea, which, instead of serving them in their typical bite-sized form, presented the sheets whole, uncut and unforgettable. So unforgettable that I’m still thinking about ravioles du Dauphiné now, years later. And so is John Welch, of John Francis Designs, who’s created a new ravioli mold just for them.

With the help of John’s mold, today’s recipe is my take on this pretty French dish, inspired by its traditional flavors but with an American twist. In addition to the uncut presentation, the white wine butter sauce is also based on Café Chelsea’s popular iteration, which features Vin Jaune, a unique and nutty “yellow wine” similar to dry sherry. I’ve also added a final flourish of chive oil, both for its emerald color and herbaceous flavor to cut through the dairy. You can, of course, make ravioles du Dauphiné without a mold, but the process is far easier (and more fun!) with John’s newest creation—a perfect dish, and a perfect gift, for your loved ones this Valentine’s Day.

PS: Here are 10 other Valentine’s Day contenders from the archive:

• Beet & Potato Ravioli with Butter & Poppy Seeds (Casunziei all’ampezzana)

• Braised Short Rib & Sausage Ragù

• Chard & Ricotta Gnudi with Brown Butter & Sage

• Conchiglioni “5 Formaggi” with Honey-Rosemary Gastrique

• Drunken Spaghetti with Lamb & Rosemary

• Penne with Fonduta & Seared Radicchio

• Red Hot Calamarata with 20 Cloves of Garlic

• Tajarin with Mushrooms & Marsala

• Valentine’s Day Ravioletti

• Zucchini Carbonara (Carbonara di Zucchine) For Two

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French-Style Ravioli (Ravioles du Dauphiné) with White Wine & Chive Oil

Makes 4 ravioles sheets, serving 2 to 4

For the chive oil

170 ml (a scant ¾ cup) neutral oil
60 grams (2 ounces; about 4 bunches) fresh chives

For the pasta

350 grams (approx. 2¼ cups) ‘00’ pasta flour or all-purpose flour
200 grams (approx. 4 large) eggs

For the filling

225 grams (8 ounces) rind-free Comté, cubed or grated
45 grams (1½ ounces) plain goat cheese
60 grams (¼ cup) crème fraîche
45 ml (3 tablespoons) heavy cream, plus more as needed*
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 grams (2 tablespoons) minced fresh flat-leaf parsley

For the sauce & serving

120 ml (½ cup) dry white wine like Sauvignon Blanc
60 ml (¼ cup) dry sherry
150 grams (½ cup plus 2 tablespoons) cold unsalted butter, cut into tablespoons
Kosher salt

*In the original (pictured) version of this recipe, I used 18 grams (1 large) egg yolk and 30 ml (2 tablespoons) heavy cream, since eggs are often included in the ravioles du Dauphiné filling. Feel free to do the same, but considering the current price of eggs, I’ve since omitted the egg yolk from the filling and increased the amount cream accordingly.

For the chive oil

Using kitchen shears, trim any wilted ends from the chives and snip them into roughly 2-inch batons (I had about 45 grams/1½ ounces trimmed chives). To remove some of the grassiness, run the chives under hot water for a minute or two, then spread on paper towels and dry thoroughly. Transfer to a small high-speed blender (a Nutribullet or something similar works great!).

In a small saucepan, heat the oil over medium-high until shimmering but not bubbling (if you have a thermometer, it should reach about 200°F). Very carefully pour the hot oil over the chives, then use a rubber spatula to gently press them down until submerged. Let cool slightly; meanwhile, fill a bowl with ice water.

Blend the chives until very smooth, stopping the blender a few times to (again, very carefully!) release the pressure, about 1 minute. Pour the mixture into a heatproof container and immediately hold it in the ice bath until completely cool.

If you have time, refrigerate the mixture overnight; if you don’t, refrigerate for as long as you can. Bring back to room temperature if needed, then strain through a fine mesh sieve (don’t press or disturb the solids; this takes about 30 minutes). For especially clear oil, strain a second time through cheesecloth or a paper coffee filter. Transfer to an airtight container or bottle.

Storage note: The chive oil can be refrigerated for up to a week; if you’ve strained it twice, it’ll last for several weeks.

For the pasta

Make the dough:
Make the dough by hand or in a food processor according to the directions in this post. Let the dough rest, tightly wrapped in plastic, at room temperature for at least 30 minutes and up to 2 hours.

While the dough rests, make the filling.

For the filling

Add the Comté, goat cheese, crème fraîche, cream, a pinch of salt, and a whole bunch of pepper to a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Process until smooth and creamy, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed—the filling will be very thick but should be spreadable; loosen with another splash of cream as needed.

Adjust seasoning to taste (you probably won’t need much salt), then add the parsley and pulse in a couple of quick bursts until just combined. Transfer the filling to a piping bag.

Storage note: The filling will keep, sealed in the piping bag or other airtight container, in the refrigerator for up to 3 days. Bring to room temperature before use.

For the ravioles

Roll the pasta sheets:
Cut off a third of the dough and re-wrap the rest. On your work surface, flatten the section of dough with your palm into an oval-shaped pancake that’s about ¼-inch thick. Press the dough between your fingers to thin it out as needed.

Set your pasta machine to its widest setting. Position one tapered end of the oval in the center and roll it through once—you should be left with a longer, thinner oval.

Position the dough lengthwise on your work surface. Then fold the two tapered ends into the center like an envelope so the length is the same or similar to the slot of the pasta roller (about 6 inches; it doesn’t matter if the tapered ends overlap or if there’s space between them). Flatten the dough again with your palm/fingers so it’ll go through the machine easily.

Line up the bottom edge of the pasta envelope with the edge of the machine (the folded ends should run horizontally). Roll the dough through the machine on the same (widest setting) a second time—you should be left with a rectangular-ish piece of dough (it’s okay if the ends aren’t perfect!).

Continue rolling the dough through the machine one time on each progressive setting until you have a thin sheet. On the Marcato Atlas 150 machine, I recommend rolling the dough to setting 7; for the KitchenAid attachment, I suggest rolling the dough to setting 7, then, if it doesn’t feel terribly delicate, a second time on setting 7. If the dough feels sticky or tacky as you roll, dust both sides with some ‘00’ or all-purpose flour.

Cut the pasta sheet in half:
Trim any uneven edges from the pasta sheet (ball up the scraps and wrap them in plastic so you can reuse them after the fresh dough is gone). Fold the sheet in half crosswise (like a book) and make a crease at the midpoint. Unfold the sheet and cut along the crease so you have two even pieces, both of which should be slightly longer than the length of the ravioli mold.

Note: You want to have about an inch of overhang on all sides of the mold; if your sheets are much longer, trim off any excess and add it to the scrap ball—you’ll need to reuse those scraps to get the last sheet of ravioli!

Assemble the ravioles (see video above!):
Cover one of the pieces with a damp dishcloth to prevent it from drying out.

If the dough feels sticky, lightly dust one side of the other piece with ‘00’ or all-purpose flour (I often skip this step if the dough is only a little tacky—I find it better imprints the design if there’s a little friction). Position the rectangle floured-side down on top of the mold.

Using your fingers or a large clean paint brush, gently press the pasta sheet into the mold, making sure to push into each filling pocket. It’s okay if the pasta doesn’t reach the bottom of the filling nooks—the filling itself will do that for you later.

Pipe a small dollop of filling into each filling pocket—don’t worry if it pops up above the mold a little. If the dough feels dry, use your finger or a pastry brush to brush a little water around the outer edges.

Lay the other piece of pasta on top of the filling. Gently press down on each filling pocket with your hands—you’ll feel the filling dropping further down—then use a rolling pin with gentle pressure to seal the sheets together, going back a forth a couple of times.

Carefully flip the mold over and release the ravioles. Use a fluted (traditional) or straight (what I used) pasta wheel, or a knife to trim away the excess dough—make sure to leave at least ¼ inch of overhang around the edges (more than pictured) or the filling might leak during cooking. I cut a little too close to the edges on some of mine and had some leaks!

If the scraps feel hydrated, add them to your scrap ball; if they’re dry, peel the layers apart, cut them into irregular pieces, and freeze them for a soup or snack.

Repeat the process with the remaining dough, including the scrap ball. Arrange the ravioles sheets in a single layer on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper and/or dusted with coarse semolina flour.

For the sauce & serving

Fill a large sauté pan (or a large pot about halfway) with water and start bringing it to a lively simmer.

In a large skillet or saucier, combine the white wine and sherry. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat and cook until reduced by ¾, about 6 to 8 minutes.

Reduce the heat to low. Working with a couple of pieces at a time, add the cold butter, stirring or whisking constantly, until melted and emulsified. The sauce should be thick and glaze-like. Season to taste with salt and keep warm, whisking often, over low heat.

Season the simmering water generously with salt. Working one or two at a time, carefully slide the ravioles sheets into the water and cook, using a spoon or spatula to occasionally press down to make sure the sheets are submerged, until tender, 3 to 5 minutes.

Return the butter sauce to medium heat. If you have the space, transfer the pasta directly from the water to the butter sauce and swirl until well-coated, about 1 minute; otherwise, divide the ravioles among plates and spoon over the sauce. Finish with a drizzle of chive oil and freshly ground black pepper. Serve immediately.