Agnolotti del Plin

In the hills of the Langhe, where the fog settles between rows of Nebbiolo vines, grandmothers have made these tiny parcels for as long as anyone remembers. The name comes from the Piedmontese word for pinch: plin. You seal each one between thumb and forefinger, creating a small ridge that catches the butter. This is not decorative. It is functional. The pinch ensures the filling stays inside during cooking.

The filling is braised meat, typically whatever the family had available: beef, pork, rabbit, sometimes veal. The meat cooks for hours with aromatics until it falls apart, then it is ground fine and enriched with Parmigiano and nutmeg. Some families add escarole or spinach. Others consider this heresy. Both traditions have merit.

Agnolotti del plin are served three ways in Piedmont, and all are correct. Al tovagliolo, in a napkin, to keep them soft and warm. With butter and sage, nothing more. Or swimming in rich meat broth, where they release their flavor into the liquid. What you do not do is drown them in tomato sauce or cover them with cream. What you keep out is as significant as what you put in.