Making your own pasta is really quick and easy and you can’t beat it for thinks like tagliatelle, cannelloni and lasagne.  I used to make it often even before one of my favourite people (and the person who taught me to make pasta) gifted me with the pasta rollers and cutters for my kitchenaid.

My point being, that this friend taught me to make pasta with no special gadgets or equipment save his counter top and an old Crystal bottle that he stored on top of his kitchen cabinet.

The story goes that his mom got the pasta roller in the divorce and it was his dad who taught him to make pasta…so..ya know…

I still use his basic pasta recipe, adding and subtracting ingredients occasionally, such as swapping some of the eggs for spinach, squid ink, or in this case beetroot.

It’s worth taking the time to find Italian Tipo 00 (very fine) pasta flour, or something like Doves Farm organic pasta flour.

• trim 3 medium beetroot about an inch above the bottom of the stalks.  If you cut into the root the colour will all bleed out during cooking.
• Put in cold water and bring to the boil, boiling until the beetroots are soft.
• Run under cold running water and peel off the skins.
• Puree in a blender and let cool.
  
• Mound 300g of pasta flour on your counter top (or in the bowl of your kitchenaid).
• Make a well in the centre and add 3 lightly beaten eggs
• Add 3 large tablespoons of beetroot puree.
• Mix into a dough and knead until smooth and elastic (use the flat beater until the dough comes together then switch to the dough hook if you are using a kitchenaid).
• Cut into quarters and leave 3 quarters under a damp cloth whilst you work with the other quarter.
• Flatten out the quarter and run it through your pasta rollers on the lowest (1) setting several times (folding it over in 3 like a letter each time)
• When the dough starts to feel lovely and supple, switch the rollers to the next setting and run through twice.
• Keep going making the settings progressively thinner until you have fairly thin sheet of pasta.
• I usually go to setting 6, or 8 if I am making ravioli
• Now you can cut the pasta into smaller sheets to use for cannelloni, or lasagne
• Or run it through your pasta cutters.  I used the linguine setting for fine noodles.
• Fresh pasta only takes about 3 minutes to cook in boiling water.
• If you don’t want the colour to fade during cooking, add a little more beetroot puree to the pasta cooking water.
• Store in sheets sprinkled with semolina, then wrapped and frozen.  Or do the same with ‘nests’ of noodles.
• Make sure you brush all the semolina off before cooking.
  

I admit it. I love kitsch. But not just any kitsch. Specifically that peculiarly, joyously colorful, sundrenched African kitsch. It stops me in my tracks. It speaks to me on some visceral level. It beckons with little cameos of home.

It wasn’t always that way. Growing up I was very boring, and as a teenager, instead of rebelling with neon coloured leg warmers and studded armbands like the rest of the 80’s, I wafted around in Out of Africa eau de nil. All colonial linen and floaty scarves.

Not until I sailed away (metaphorically of course) from our burning shores did the lack of colour started to make its absence felt. Unable to remain supressed, my African genetics burst, wildly toi-toi ing and ululating, to the surface, and before I knew it raspberry walls started popping up all over my home, followed swiftly by tangerine and cinnamon Indian silk cushions, strings of coral West African mozi beads and handmade ceramic jugs of zebra striped porcupine quills collected on one of our Greyton mountain walks.

On the table in our bedroom is a picture of my daughter aged 6, next to a bowl made of red-brown African clay, filled with black spotted red lucky beans, collected in Africa by the same 6 year old. I remember my mom having a similar bowl full of little black and red beans painstakingly gathered by my sister and I.

It’s not that England has no colour. Somerset has a million shades of green, like my beloved Cape. But the echoes of our burning African sun are nowhere to be found. Unless of course you create them yourself.

I can’t tell you how energized I felt by making this unbelievably cerise pasta, with nothing but some local, free range eggs, a few beetroots from the garden and some organic pasta flour. I spent nearly half an hour snapping pics in the sun and reveling in the richness and sheer happiness of the colour. When I eventually made some of the pasta into cannelloni, with equally beautiful rainbow chard and some fresh ricotta, I was entranced all over again by the perfection of the hues.

Yes, Heston Blumenthal is right, food is so much more than just taste. For me, colour and smell are just as important, perhaps more. And while pasta is singularly Italian, my garish, vibrant, homemade beetroot pasta is the epitome of African Kitsch. And I love it.

The recipe for homemade beetroot pasta can be found here and this is my entry to Ruth’s Presto Pasta Night. Make sure you pay her a visit on Friday for a roundup of what the web has to offer in the way of pasta this week.