Cappellacci di Zucca Ferraresi

Cappellacci di zucca is not ravioli. It is not tortelli. It is something specific, from a specific place, made a specific way. Ferrara guards this dish jealously, and rightfully so. The name means 'ugly hats,' and the shape resembles the straw hats worn by farmers in the Po Valley, or perhaps the peaked cap of a priest. Either way, the shape matters. It holds the butter in its folds.

The filling must be sweet and dry. This is not negotiable. Wet pumpkin makes soggy pasta, and soggy pasta is an abomination. You roast the squash until it concentrates and dries. You pass it through a food mill. You let it drain further if needed. Only then do you add the Parmigiano and nutmeg. The filling should taste of autumn, of sweetness balanced by the sharp bite of aged cheese.

Americans want to add things. Cream in the sauce. Garlic. Herbs beyond sage. Resist this impulse. The sauce is melted butter with whole sage leaves, cooked until the butter just begins to brown and the sage crisps at the edges. That is all. What you keep out is as significant as what you put in. The sweetness of the pumpkin, the richness of the butter, the fragrance of the sage, the bite of the Parmigiano grated over top. Nothing else is needed. Nothing else belongs.