I’ve been obsessing about Grant Achatz’s exploding ravioli for several months now; ever since I first read about it in the Food and Wine article. It comprised the meal he served to win his position at Trio. I loved the idea: a ravioli that behaves like Freshen Up gum, providing a liquid mouthful as one bites into it. His truffle ravioli was a staple on Trio’s menu during his tenure.
Some people count sheep to get to sleep. I think about how foods are made and how tastes go together. How to make a liquid filled ravioli rocked me to bed for the better part of a month.
It fascinated me. Not just how to fill it with liquid, but also how to cook it. Was it steamed? Boiled? Was the pasta pre-cooked and sealed afterwards? One particular method that ran for a few weeks in my head (I usually fall asleep very quickly so it takes me a long time to go through technique in my head) was to inject the liquid into the center, then seal the still soft dough and drop that into boiling water. I worked through variations of raw vs cooked pasta to be filled, and what kind of needle to use. The ginormous needle in the kitchen drawer used for putting elephants to sleep (normally pulled out for use on a turkey during Thanksgiving) seemed too large to fulfill my purposes. But where the hell was I going to get a hypodermic needle? The more I though about it, the more outlandish the idea became. It seemed incredibly time consuming and not elegant enough a solution. I figured that whatever Achatz was doing, it had to involve style. After all, as his former boss, Thomas Keller was fond of noting, “It’s all about finesse.”
I spent countless hours checking out food sites and googling “exploding ravioli,” and “liquid ravioli.” What I came up with were lots of articles on Achatz’s ravioli and his spiritual mentor, Ferran Adria, who was doing a turn as Mr. Peabody in the kitchen. There were no recipes (I actually thought there might be!) and no articles that gave me a clue as to how to proceed.
What I really wanted to make was a ravioli that exploded with lobster broth; one of my favorite foods.
I talked (obsessed) about the concept with my friend Greg who said, “You know, it’s sounds like xiao long bao. It’s a Chinese dumpling that looks like a little steamed bun and you have to eat it in one bite because it’s filled with liquid and meat.” Okay, I thought; that’s a start. So I went and began checking recipes for xiao long bao, which required making a thick paste of pork filling, wrapping it in a wonton wrapper, and steaming it. I wasn’t convinced this was the right answer but I thought, okay, I’m halfway there. What troubled me was that xiao long bao required a meat paste. I wanted my exploding lobster ravioli to be filled with broth; period. Nothing to distract the flavor.
Greg and I were chatting online at work (it helps us to look officious and busy) not too long after I found the xiao long bao recipe. I was convinced the ravioli was cooked the way all fresh pasta is cooked;in salted boiling water, and not steamed. Thus, I was pretty sure that the ravioli had to have the liquid filling inside before it was boiled. Greg asked me how I was going to melt the filling; and in the phrasing of that question, I finally connected the dots. The answer had to be something that started out as a solid prior to cooking, then became liquid when it came in contact with heat. It had to be a gelée. And from there, it all made sense. That night, I actually kept myself awake running through the mechanics of how the ravioli could be made with the lobster gelée.
As it turned out, the exquisite Pim, of the not-to-be-missed-food-blog Chez Pim, had eaten at Trio and it was while I was happily engaged in reading through her blog that I found her write up on Trio. Achatz cooked for her and it was her description of xiao long bao that confirmed my direction.
In a nutshell, the ravioli is composed of a few basic steps. The first step is to make the stock. The second is to add gelatin to the stock and wait until you have a savory Jello (which essentially, it is). The third is to make the pasta, add the gelée to the center, seal and then boil for about 30-45 seconds (long enough for the ravioli to cook).
Being the naturally insane person that I am, I decided to debut my exploding lobster ravioli for a wine dinner tonight with friends. The only trial run was at midnight last night when I made a few to test the theory and to check textures. The first one was a joyous occasion; the gelée melted on cue and I had a mouthful of liquid stock. The only problem was, the pasta was too chewy. Hubby agreed. He suggested adding a chunk of lobster meat to the ravioli. I tried that, too, but we both agreed at that with the lobster being chewy and the pasta being chewy, the broth was incidental.
“Why don’t you make it with lobster and ricotta?” he suggested. I ignored him, too distracted to point out that ricotta cheese wasn’t going to explode in anyone’s mouth (and if it did, I had done something seriously wrong). “Or make the pasta thinner.”
Eureka. These are the moments I think about when his shedding his clothes on the floor like a little snake and leaving dishes in the sink drive me to despair and partial homicidal tendencies. These are the moments that elevate being married to him to a higher level of existential joy. These are the moments that make me forgive him for being a man.
Because I’m insane, I decided to call it a night and figured I’d go for broke at dinner the next night. I already knew the mechanics worked. I just needed to refine the texture.
Fast forward to this afternoon. Two hours before my guests (eight of them) were due to arrive, I pulled out the dough I’d made the night before and rolled the pasta through progressively thinner settings until I had it on the thinnest setting. I grabbed the lobster gelée and made a batch of ravioli, cutting them into circles and filling them with gelée cut with the smallest round cutter. Lance and Joetta came first and as always, I love their willingness to be my guinea pigs. I popped four ravioli into boiling water and asked them and Hubby to try a bite. Hubby was right: the thinner dough allowed the broth to star in the show and not take best supporting actor role.
I served it for dinner but made a critical mistake: instead of letting the ravioli stand on its own, I covered it with a sauce, so the exploding ravioli was actually lost. Sigh. All that down the drain because I failed to obey the basic covenant of food: keep it simple. It would have been better served with a light touch of olive oil and some grated Parmagiano. And I think next time I’ll add tomato paste to the dough for the color and the complimentary flavor. But at least I know now. And better yet, I know how to make it!
The only problem is finding something else to occupy me at night now so I can sleep.
Exploding Lobster Ravioli
Fresh pasta dough
- 4 eggs
- 3 ½ cups all purpose flour
- 1 T olive oil
Create a mound of flour on a cutting board (I like using my leftover Corian cutting board because it’s easier to clean and scrape). Make a well in the center. Add the eggs and olive oil. You can use your hands or utensils (I find a fork works best) and beat the eggs and oil together, gathering flour but making sure to keep the mound shape until the dough comes together. Knead the dough, using the heels of your hand until the dough is elastic and sticky. Add more flour if the dough is too sticky but don’t overdo it. It should take about ten minutes for the dough to be incorporated. Wrap in plastic wrap and let it rest at room temperature for about 30 minutes before working with it.
Lobster Gelée
- 1 cup lobster stock (try the recipe from Le Bernardin)
- 1 oz (1 package) Knox gelatin
Sprinkle gelatin over the cold stock and let it sit for 1 minute. Pour stock into a small pot and bring to gentle boil, stirring to dissolve the gelatin. Pour gelatin into a shallow dish and refrigerate until stock has coagulated (a few hours)
Assembling the Exploding Lobster Ravioli
Roll out a sheet of pasta on the thinnest setting. Select a large round cookie cutter and cut out several pasta circles. Using a cookie cutter one size smaller, cut the gelatin into a circle and place it at the center of the pasta circle. Brush the sides of the pasta with egg white and cover with another circle. Press on all sides of the gelée, to remove air bubbles, but be careful not to crush the gelée. Make sure the ravioli is sealed. Cook in a pot of salted boiling water until the ravioli is cooked (about 1 minute, or until raviolifloats to the top). Serve immediately with a brush of olive oil and grated Parmagiano. Oh yeah. Remind your guests to eat it in one bite so they don’t hurt themselves.
I’ll post up a picture tomorrow when I make a fresh batch.
Oh my, I can't believe I've stumbled on your 'liquid ravioli" post. I, too, have been slowly pondering the logistical dynamics of this lovely dish after tasting Chef Oringer's (Clio, Boston) version. He serves his ravioli nestled in the bed of a large soup spoon resting atop polenta soup.
I'll try your recipe this weekend. In the meantime, I'm so grateful to no longer search for the best hypodermic needle / pocketed pasta combo! Thanks.
Posted by: anne marie | March 16, 2006 at 04:24 PM
Anne Marie, I'm glad I'm not the only person who thought hypodermic needles made sense! Enjoy!
Posted by: Cath | March 19, 2006 at 12:23 AM
thank you for your post. i have been thiking about this too. tring to test the limits and its nice to know im not the only one out there to do this. but i think i have something else you can figure out. i was just at Alinea and he has a new exlpoding pear dish. thats just amazing. i think he entraps a pear jus inside a blown suger ball and its served in a shot glass. but i im not sure if its blown suger or not. hope this will keep you up. lol
it kep me up for ever
Posted by: christoopher white | March 24, 2006 at 12:56 AM
Thank you so much for figuring this out! I too had been wondering about exploding ravioli for at least a year. My dad and I made 3 batches last night, eventually nailing it on the third try. I am currently making another batch with a gelee of beef broth and soy sauce, and I think I'm going to put some chopped up wild mushrooms in it. Thanks again!
Posted by: Adam Boyd | December 19, 2006 at 05:32 PM
I am glad I came across your post, not because it teaches how to make exploding ravioli (though that is a bonus) but because it explains how filled dumplings are made. The most popular dumpling house in the world (and now the US since So. Cal just got a branch) is called Din Tai Fung. The wait is often an hour long but the dumplings are exquisite and like you describd, you have to pop them in your mouth whole because the liquid inside just explodes out. My friends and I always joked (thought) that they used syringes to inject them but I guess they must use the gelatin like you suggested.
One difference though - they really do steam them at DTF. We know this because the steaming trays are used as the serving dishes.
Posted by: sygyzy | October 31, 2007 at 07:35 PM
I ate the exploding ravioli at alinea, and since have been trying to figure out the mechanics. Today, i froze truffle juice and made the filling with truffle juice hemispheres, which worked out well, but i had to move fast lol. I like the gelatin method more. thanks for the post.
Posted by: patrick | March 24, 2008 at 01:52 AM