Recovering and Looking for Inspiration

So it's been almost 2 weeks since the start of this nasty flu and I think I might have finally turned the corner (oh please let it be so). My appetite still hasn't come back yet (no appetite? you must really be sick!). I actually had enough strength this weekend to whip together some bolognese sauce so the Mister can have a decent dinner after working all day. At least it was better than laying on the couch, feeling sorry for myself (hehe).

As the bolognese sauce simmered, my mind wandered off somewhere, la-la land perhaps (cold medicines can do that, you know), and I started to think about fresh pasta (pasta fresca). I was thinking back about 10+ years when I first made pasta using one of those electric pasta machines that extruded dough through a die. Yuck, just thinking about it makes me want to hug my box of Barilla. Ever seen Office Space? You know that scene where the guys smash that copier? Yeah, that's what I'd do to that pasta machine if we still had it (where's that baseball bat of mine?). Of course the song playing in the background from that scene is rolling in my head ("damn it feels good to be a gangsta") Oh right, back to the pasta.

Granted I am a bit more culinary astute now (funny the things drugs make you say and think!). And then my mind wandered off to the manual pasta machine I have, tucked high and away in the back of the upper cupboards, far far from sight. Heck, I can't even remember what brand it is, Atlas? Insperia? Did it even come with a cutter? It's been so long, I can't remember.

So today, sitting at work, I vaguely remember telling the Mister just before I got sick (which seems so loooong ago) that I wanted to make lobster raviolis. But sitting here in my congested stupor, I think I'll tackle a simple pasta first, like Tagliatelle or Fettuccine. Besides, I've got extra bolognese sauce in the freezer that would go well with either. Okay, so now I have a plan, a bit of inspiration to help get my appetite back. I'm going to go home tonight and dig out that pasta machine. Who knows what might come out of this. (Sing along now! "damn it feels good to be a gangsta...")