Spinach and ricotta ravioli with a Japanese twist. One hour is too long, is it?

"Cooking is a self-expression, a way of finding the aromas, colours, and the flavours that define your personality"- Mireille Guiliano.

My baby Juanan doesn't like the dummy or the bottle. What a pity. It gives me less freedom, until he starts with solids at least. In addition to this attachment of Juanan to the "natural" source,  my son Gabriel is two years old and is going through a stage of the "separation anxiety" according to the book of "What to expect the first year" of Heidi Murkof. 

These motherhood books stress me out, I must confess, but I used them a lot when Aurelia was born. After she turned one, I realised that I was more relaxed if I used my common sense (although sometimes it is not a very good idea!) and not what the books recommended me to do. Every baby is different and obviously, every mum has a different approach.  I feed at demand, for example, but I persist with sleeping routines, not schedules. If Nick and I want to go out for lunch, the baby number 1, 2 or 3 (and there won't be number 4) will have to sleep in the stroller, bad luck. We take the risk that the lunch could end in a disaster. It has happened in the past though.

I have been meaning to go to the hairdresser since my birthday for a haircut and thanks to my hairdresser Mary, to have a "tint" because she saw many grey hairs and they made me look "too old". Sometimes Filipinos are very direct.

My last attempt was three weeks ago. I just fed baby Juanan and when I was having a nice massage after shampoo, I got a text from my lovely yaya saying "baby crying, hungry, ma'am". I could have waited to have my haircut, but the mum guiltiness didn't allow me to do it (would Nick stay or leave?????). I left Emphasis salon with my hair wet, and in a bad mood. 

It feels like one hour on my own is too long for the family.

Gabriel cries every time I disappear from his view (in terms of height, I am not too far). If I go upstairs to check the baby, he cries; if I close the door at 5.45am to go for a run, he starts shouting and waking up the neighbours (I am glad the ones next to us are currently in France!). I could keep giving you more examples, but I am sure you get the picture.

So yesterday our car was in the service, all day, and I was stuck at home with a sick Gab. I wanted to write, to cook something challenging, to sort out the recipes form magazines and place them nicely in a folder, to do some Christmas shopping before going to Spain, and of course, to go again to the hairdresser in a taxi. In general, to do my own stuff. 

Did I do any of that? Well, sort of. I played with Gabriel all morning but it wasn't in my list to do yesterday. However, I enjoyed being in his world, pushing cars, spinning plates on the floor... I usually get bored after 30 minutes. I wouldn't if we were cooking together, which I will start doing it soon. 

But he didn't cry much when I said good-night "hasta manana" and kissed him on his forehead. Was it because of the morning I spent playing with him? I don't know, maybe.

Was an hour with him too long? Nope.

I went to the kitchen and made up these spinach and ricotta raviolis.I thought of my lovely Japanese friend Tomoko, who left Manila last July. I taught her how to make ravioli. So I improvised and tweaked the Italian version of raviolis to have a bit of Japan for dinner.

Fusion of ravioli and gyoza

Drain a bunch of cooked and chopped spinach and 1 cup of ricotta cheese in a cheesecloth. You can use "queso de Burgos" if you are in Spain. It is important to squeeze out all the excess water otherwise the ravioli will be wet and difficult to handle.

Meanwhile, make the fresh pasta dough (see the recipe of my post about how to make lasagna) and let it rest.

In a medium bowl, mix the spinach and the ricotta; 2 garlic cloves, chopped fine; 1 egg yolk; 1/2 cup of freshly grated Parmesan cheese to flavour but also to thick the filling;  and add a pinch of nutmeg. Season well.

To make ravioli, roll out the pasta thin (number 7) and cut into sheets about 30 cm long. If you have this metal ravioli maker, place each sheet on top of the squares and spoon 1 tablespoon of the filling inside each hole. Otherwise, put each sheet of pasta on the table (cover the rest) and pipe the filling keeping about 2 cm between each blob. 

Brush with some beaten egg and place another sheet on top, making sure the two layers are well pressed and there is not air inside.

Pass a rolling pin on to to cut out the pasta sheets, or use a zigzag rolling cutter to cut off the bottom edge and to cut between each portion of filling.

Separate the ravioli, carefully, and lay them out on a sheet pan sprinkle some semolina or flour. Make sure they don't stick together. Keep them in the fridge up to the time of cooking to prevent the filling from seeping through the pasta (like it has happened to me many times! the trick, it is a very dried filling).

Cook the ravioli in salted simmering water for 6 minutes until done. Drain and serve on a plater or individual bowls. Warm the bowls before!

Three ways to enjoy these ravioli...

Gabriel loves plain ravioli: just boiled

Panfried with brown butter and grated Parmesan. It is my Japanese version of Gyoza, if you have ever tried these dumplings (although they are originally a Chinese dish), you should have a go with this recipe. I made this up to save time during the preparation of the dinner and they were absolutely delicious!

Panfried with homemade tomato sauce