the Italian in me

I must be part Italian.

I love pasta. I have at least seven different recipes for stuffed shells. And I like every single one of them.

Tonight's recipe says,"This is one of those old-school recipes you seldom see anymore, but you should." -Donatella Arpaia. It was in the September issue of BH&G (pg. 174).

I doctored it up by adding an Italian sausage (just one, it called for 1 1/2 pounds of ground beef and I only had about 1 1/4 lbs. so the sausage filled in). Then at the end not only did I add fresh Parm. but I also added shredded mozzarella.

It is my dream to make homemade pasta in a kitchen in Italy.

See how specific I am? I already make my own pasta for Rollatini. And ravioli. If I really wanted to, I could make my own linguine.

But I want to make it there. With a crotchety older Italian woman (I would rather say "lovely" but I'm being realistic and I'm also thinking of this kind woman who would be trying to teach an American something that she doesn't need a recipe for, but that has been passed down through generations, so surely she would be somewhat crotchety) where wine is plentiful. Perhaps it would be a villa, with the strong smell of animals and country air.

Can you picture it?

I'm mostly German. Which given my post from yesterday, about all the cookies I plan on making, shouldn't be a surprise. But there must be some Italian in me somewhere...