Gnocchi: Learning to Listen to Potatoes

Difficulty: Medium (emotionally: easy, physically: your arms will know)
Prep time: 1 morning if you want to romanticize your life, less if you behave normally
Cook time: ~25 minutes + however long you spend making the gnocchi look cute
Servings: Enough for dinner + leftovers you will pretend are intentional

The unnecessary backstory (as tradition demands)

Gnocchi alla Sorrentina are my go-to dish when I have people over. They’re something I can make from scratch quite easily (not because I’m particularly skilled, but because it’s actually a very forgiving recipe), and they always make a great impression. First of all because they’re delicious, and second of all because they’re homemade, which makes a difference both in flavor and in the amount of imaginary chef points I get from my friends (or whoever I happen to be dating).

Funnily enough, I don’t actually like gnocchi that much. I would always roll my eyes when my mother made them for the family (I usually wanted her to make ravioli instead), and I would never make them just for myself. So why do I keep making them on repeat? (My friends must be sick of them by now.)

Well, first of all, I like seeing the impressed faces every time. I like the compliments and the glory making them gives me. It’s a great result for very little effort. I may not love gnocchi, but I certainly love being the person who makes gnocchi.

I also like to casually mention that this is my “grandma’s recipe”, which is true in a way.

I did call her before making them for the first time to get a few pointers, but when I asked how much flour I should use per gram of potatoes, she simply told me: “Just use however much the potatoes want. You’ll understand when it’s enough.”

As if the potatoes were actually going to communicate with me.

Which seemed insane at the time, but after making them myself, I realized she was right. You really do understand the potatoes.

Most of my knowledge about making gnocchi comes from watching both my grandma and my mom make them (which happened quite often since they’re one of my dad’s favorite dishes), but most importantly: trial and error. The first few times they’re going to be pretty wonky, but you get better at shaping them with time.

One thing I will say is that I usually make too many every single time, so take that as you will. Either my friends and I are so small and dainty that we can never finish a whole tray, or, more likely, I’m just bad at math.

Even if you can’t finish them, I promise they make great leftovers for lunch at the office. I still haven’t tried adding two eggs and turning leftover gnocchi into a frittata, but if I do, you’ll be the first to know.

Ingredients 

• 500g potatoes (with the skin on), preferably big, white-fleshed and old
• Flour (however much the potatoes crave)
• 1 egg (this is cheating)
• 400g passata
• 200g fiordilatte
• 50-60g grated pecorino (I like it better than parmiggiano)
• 1 garlic clove
• Fresh basil (omit if Nina is also eating)
• Peperoncino (if you’re feeling spicy and unconventional)
• Olive oil
• Salt

Disclaimer 

I usually take a whole morning to make gnocchi not because it actually takes that long but because it relaxes me a bit. I feel like one of those Pinterest girls that go to the Amalfi coast to experience the “vita lenta”. You obviously don’t have to dedicate an entire morning to making them, but I do recommend slowing down and actually enjoying the process.

Method

Step 1: Boil those damn potatoes

Pull up John Oliver’s Last Week Tonight YouTube channel, grab a pot full of water, and boil the potatoes without stripping them naked (leaving the skin on prevents them from absorbing too much water) for the duration of an episode (approximately 40 minutes).

This gives you the chance to learn something new from a funny British man while giving the potatoes enough time to soften so they can be later crushed.

With your newfound knowledge of the world, poke the potatoes with a fork. If it slides through easily, they’re ready to be smashed to smithereens.

Step 2: Smash smash

There are two ways to do this:

If you own a potato ricer:
Just cut those bad boys in half, skin and all, and smash them with the potato ricer. The skin stays trapped inside the ricer, while the potatoes come out perfectly fluffy in the bowl. It’s honestly very satisfying.

If you don’t own a potato ricer:
This is trickier.

First of all, you need to peel the potatoes. Apparently, it’s easier to remove the skin while they’re still piping hot. I’ve never once tried letting them cool down before peeling them, so all I know is that holding a hot potato in your hand fucking hurts. Maybe be careful about that.

After that, put your naked potatoes in a bowl and stab them repeatedly with a fork. This is both tiring and time-consuming, and it’s usually inevitable that some chunks of potato remain intact.

It’s fine. Nobody will complain. You’re making shit from scratch.

I’d like to take this space to thank my mother for gifting me a potato ricer. It has saved both my hands from burning and my mind from crumbling.

Step 2.5: Set the mood

Since the potatoes need a bit of rest after all that smashing, it’s time for you to start curating your kneading playlist. (here is mine)

I also recommend washing the pot you used to boil the potatoes (it should be full of leftover dirt by my calculations), because we’ll need it later to cook the gnocchi.

Step 3: Make that dough

Put on your playlist and start your conversation with the potatoes.

First of all, add some salt. I think you’re supposed to boil the potatoes in salted water and then add more salt here too. I usually forget to salt the water, so I just add a whole bunch at this stage. It has turned out fine so far.

Start adding flour and mixing everything together with a fork. Once you realize it’s not going exactly as planned, covertly add your egg so that the potatoes don’t notice your little intervention.

Keep adding flour (you’ll need less flour the older the potatoes are). Once you get frustrated with the fork, check that you actually like the playlist you put on, because your hands are going to get dirty now.

Dust your work surface with flour and start kneading by hand. It’s going to be sticky, but you will pull through. Add flour as needed. You’ll know the dough is ready when it’s elastic but doesn’t permanently attach itself to your hand (it will still feel sticky to the touch though).

Step 4: Make little gnocchi

Wash your hands and dress like a cute baker. This is the romantic part of the whole process.

Flour your work surface and start making ropes of dough. I usually aim for around 2–3 cm in diameter, but honestly, just knead until they look like gnocchi-sized ropes to you. Feel free to add more flour if the potatoes ask you to.

Cut the rope into small pieces.

Congrats! You just made gnocchi.

Step 4.5: If you’re fancy

If you want the fancy ridges, grab a fork and place it upside down on the table. Lightly roll each gnocchi over the back of the fork.

Congrats! You just made fancy gnocchi.

I usually keep rolling them until I either get bored or realize the dough is still a bit too sticky for the fancy part. The ridges aren’t actually important anyway.

Remember: perfection is the enemy of good.

You can place the formed gnocchi on a baking tray lined with a flour-dusted cloth. If you run out of space, just add another cloth on top.

Don’t worry, these little guys are delicate, but honestly, even if they get crushed a bit, it’s not a big deal. We’ve established that it doesn’t actually matter if they look good.

Step 5: Mise en place (look at me being fancy)

Put a pot of salted water on the stove, cover it, and wait for it to boil. While you’re waiting, start chopping up the fiordilatte and measuring out the pecorino.

Doing the mise en place is slightly unnecessary, but it looks good. So, if you own a dishwasher, I recommend using little bowls for all your dairy and enjoying the feeling of looking like a person who actually has their shit together.

Step 6: Making the sauce

After you’ve lived out your Pinterest fantasy, heat some olive oil in another pot and add the garlic clove.

Add some peperoncino if you’re missing Calabria or if you’re feeling particularly outrageous.

Pour in the passata, add a sprinkle of salt (and a smidge of sugar if you feel like it), and cover. Let it cook on low heat for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally so it doesn’t burn.

If Nina isn’t expected for dinner, add some fresh basil during the last two minutes.

Step 7: Giving the gnocchi a little bath

Once the water is finally boiling, we can start cooking the gnocchi.

Plop them into the water (careful though, you might burn yourself with the splash). These guys are so kind that they simply float to the surface once they’re ready. You don’t even have to set a timer.

But if you’re curious, I can tell you: it usually takes around 3 minutes for them to cook.

Step 8: It’s getting hot in here

Start preheating your oven to 200°C conventional (180°C fan oven).

Once the sauce is ready, get rid of the garlic. Mix the now garlic-free sauce with 75% of the pecorino, 50% of the fiordilatte, and 100% of the gnocchi.

Pour everything into an oven-safe dish and top it with the remaining dairy.

Step 8.5 Almost There

Since the oven is still not heated, start cleaning the work table. If the flour actually gets stuck there it’s going to be a nightmare later. Take your time to take some pictures of your dish and start dreaming about all the praise you’re going to get for your home made meal

Step: 9 Enjoy Victory

Once the oven is heated, put the gnocchi in for 10–15 minutes, depending on whether you like a little burnt edge.

Now comes the best part: enjoying the victory.

I hope you actually try making them, although I have to admit I’m slightly worried about sharing how easy they are. I fear my friends will no longer look at me with the same level of admiration when they realize I’m just someone who knows how to mash potatoes and follow instructions.

I guess this means I’ll have to step up my game and finally learn how to make ravioli, which is objectively more impressive.

So enjoy your homemade gnocchi, collect your chef points, and remember: if you make them yourself, please pretend they were much harder than they actually are.