Wonton Ravioli
So I’m on Pinterest. Sort of. I mean, I have a few boards. I’m figuring it out. Heidi Swanson, she has, like 75 boards, and like her, they’re all intimidatingly beautiful. In fact, much of Pinterest is dauntingly perfect looking. From glossy interiors to chic outfits, to hear Pinterest tell it, we’re all living immaculate, exquisite lives. Nary a cat dare barf on Pinterest, let me tell you. Nobody spills down rice on his shirt or breaks a shot glass she bought only hours earlier (from Goodwill, okay?). And I’m supposed ask you all to please follow me, which feels like ever-so-vaguely Donna Summerish.
Over here at the IK, we’re in desperate need of a haircut and called potato chips lunch. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Never mind. We know none of that is very “pinnable.”
Let’s talk wonton ravioli. They’re a far better lunch than chips. Also pinnable. Gosh, our vocabulary.
Perhaps, like me, you’ve been lured into buying those pricey packages of “artisanal” ravioli only get them home and discover they taste of nothing. Maybe you resolve to make ravioli yourself…except you don’t have a pasta maker, or even if you do have one, your tiny kitchen hasn’t space for rolling out sheets of pasta, much less anywhere for them dry.
Enter wonton skins.
Many are my kitchen failures involving wrapping, folding, pleating, or otherwise encasing foods. I could blame carpal tunnel and tendonitis for my ineptitude, but the sad fact is my klutziness predates poor health. I never got the hang of driving stick shift or gift-wrapping. Most humiliating of all is my inability to manage chopsticks. Whenever John and I eat in Asian restaurants, I ask for cutlery and the servers assume it’s for him, the guy in the wheelchair. Nope. The guy in the wheelchair can use chopsticks. The cutlery is for his wife. The one who can walk.
So why was I stupid (or courageous) enough to try again?
Egg white. More specifically, Jennifer McLagan’s recipe for wonton ravioli, which calls for a sturdy egg white glue instead of pinching, pleating, or folding those little buggers closed and praying they stay that way.
Before going into the recipe, let us chat about amounts. This recipe is all about cooking as art rather than science; meaning I can tell you precisely how much filling to make, and how many wonton skins to purchase to ensure you’ll have enough, but you may have leftover wontons. This is not occasion to panic, as wonton skins freeze well, and believe me, you’ll want to make this again, probably immediately.
When I made this the first time, following Jennifer McLagan’s recipe for Bitter Greens Ravioli, from the magnificent Bitter, I ran out of wonton skins and needed to buy more–an arduous two block trip. McLagan’s recipe states a yield of about 30 ravioli; I ended up with 50.
This is not a criticism of McLagan’s impeccable work. Rather, it’s a demonstration of real cooking in real life. Kitchens, ingredients, equipment, and cooks vary. That’s to be expected. I can’t tell you how often I’ve carefully followed a recipe only to have ingredients misbehave or work out differently from the instructions. That’s part of cooking–it’s part of life. Part of creating good food is the ability to deviate from a recipe, making adjustments as necessary.
I know, easy for me to say, right? Well, it’s one thing to run out of wonton skins. When life outside the kitchen deviates from my oh-so-carefully planned schedule, I don’t handle it so well. A quick consultation of Pinterest, searching under “time,” reveals numerous sappy self-help statements for this state, along with, curiously, “12 exercises for women who want thinner thighs.”
Right. I’m an improved woman already. Where were we again? Ravioli.
No matter how many ravioli you end up with, these ravioli are everything you wish the packaged versions were but never are: delicate, light, deeply flavorful, good for you. Plus they freeze well. Plus plus they’re vegetarian. Therefore, whether you have 25, 35, or 55, there is no such thing as too many of these pillowy little wonders. I would venture the problem is not enough.
So my advice is make the filling using McLagan’s 6-cup recipe as your baseline and have 24 ounces of wonton wrappers–that’s either two 12-ounce packages or four 7-ounce packages.
Remember life is about doing the very best you can, and perfection is impossible.
Wonton Ravioli
minimally adapted from Jennifer McLagan’s Bitter
yield: 25-50 ravioli
Prep time: It is impossible to offer a prep time apart from saying this isn’t fast food. The filling takes about an hour to cook, and may be left to drain overnight or squeezed very dry and used immediately. Filling the ravioli is the most time-consuming part of the recipe, but it’s pleasant, relaxing work.
Notes before starting: Wonton wrappers are sold in varying sizes and packaging, You are starting with 6 cups of raw greens that will cook down to about 2 cups. You’ll need 24 ounces of square wonton wrappers. Leftover wonton wrappers freeze well.
When you get to the wrapper-filling stage, it’s helpful to have a small bowl of clean water and a clean, dry towel handy to wipe your hands.
It is also helpful to arrange your work station in an orderly fashion: bowl, towel, bowl of egg wash, brush, wontons, filling, baking sheet.
For the filling:
Six cups of mixed fresh greens of your choice, washed and trimmed.
I used dandelion, kale and bok choy. Other choices include turnip greens, mustard greens, broccoli rape, or escarole.
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 scallions or spring garlic, cleaned, trimmed, and sliced into pieces
1/4 cup ricotta cheese
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
black pepper to taste
For the wontons:
24 ounces square wonton skins: either two 12-ounces packages or four 7-ounce packages
1 egg white
1 teaspoon water
Make the filling. Wash the greens and trim any thick stems. Heat the olive oil in a large, lidded sauté pan. Cook the greens over low heat, covered, until completely softened and cooked through. Depending on the greens used, this could take up to an hour.
Before filling wontons, greens must be completely dry. Do this one of two ways:
- place greens in a fine-mesh colander, set in a bowl, weight greens, cover, and refrigerate overnight
- place greens in colander, wrap in clean, non-linting dishcloth (choose one you won’t mind staining), and wring out every last bit of moisture
Place greens in a food processor with scallions or spring garlic. Process to a paste.
Scrape into a bowl. Add the ricotta cheese, salt, and plenty of black pepper. Stir until completely blended.
To fill the wonton skins:
Whisk egg white with teaspoon of water. Have wonton skins, filling, a brush for egg white, bowl of clean water, clean hand towel, and a large baking sheet lined with parchment ready.
To make ravioli, place one wonton skin floured side down on counter. Place teaspoon of filling in center. Brush egg white liberally around each side of square.
Now take a second wonton skin and drape it over, floured side up. Think of spreading a blanket over a bed. Press wonton down around filling with fingers, expelling as much air as possible.
Using a cookie cutter, cut ravioli into a round, pressing again with fingers to seal edges. Move ravioli to baking sheet.
Continue filling wontons, arranging ravioli in overlapping layers until filling is used up.
To cook immediately:
Bring a medium pot of water to a rolling boil. Salt the water. Using a mesh skimmer, lower a few ravioli into the water at a time. They will sink to the bottom, then float, cooking in about three minutes. Gently remove with skimmer either to plate or to a sauté pan for further cooking (see below).
To cook later the same day:
Cover baking sheet with clean dishtowel and refrigerate up to four hours.
To freeze:
Cover baking sheet with clean dishtowel and slip carefully into freezer. When ravioli are frozen, store in layers, with parchment or wax paper between layers. While McLagan says they may be cooked from frozen, ravioli are fragile. I had better luck allowing them to defrost for an hour before cooking.
Cooking notes:
Ravioli are exquisite just boiled and served with your best olive oil and lemon. McLagan sautés hers in a pan sauce of clarified butter, lemon juice, and Pecorino Romano; I did this using butter, olive oil, and lemon, and it was wonderful.
Ravioli are at their most durable when cooked immediately. Handle carefully from frozen. Should a few break, view it as an opportunity to appreciate the filling in all its green mosaic beauty.
As we move into Spring…or at least, we do here, the rains seemingly gone, this dish cries out for fresh artichokes, peas, asparagus, and shavings of (real) Parmesan.
