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Making Derelye

I don’t know what I expected when I set out to make these, but let me tell you, whatever my expectations were, they were blown out of the water entirely. And this from a guy who’s eaten more than his share of pierogi and ravioli over the years. Derelye really are unlike either of their close cousins, at least as an eating experience. The secret is the bread crumb sauce. Whoever thought that up, I hope, was given the Order of the Iron Toque, or whatever commendation the Austro-Hungarian crown gave to recognize meritorious culinary service to the Empire. The crunchy texture and buttery flavor of the sauce, which contrasts perfectly with the sweetness and leanness of the dumpling itself, is truly inspired. Rush to make these. I’m not kidding.

Begin by assembling your ingredients. Combine the egg, yolk, flour, salt and water in the bowl of a mixer fitted with a paddle.


Derelye Recipe

If I didn’t know this pasta dough formula was Hungarian I’d swear it was Italian, though I guess it has a little more water in it than many Italian versions. It goes like this:

11.25 ounces (2 1/2 cups) all-purpose flour
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
4 ounces (1/2 cup) water
1 1/2 teaspoons salt

egg wash (the beaten leftover egg white is fine here)
jam of your choice (apricot is traditional, sweetened farm cheese is also very good here)
2 cups homemade bread crumbs made from good bread
4 ounces unsweetened butter
2 ounces granulated sugar

Now me, I use machinery for pasta, though I know that’s not what many recipes call for (“…make a well in the center of the dough and drop in the eggs…”). I mix the dough with a machine, and roll it with a machine. But you do as you wish. I’ll say that dough that’s hand-rolled is famous for it’s slightly rough “cat’s tongue” texture, which is the dead giveaway for pasta made with love on a wooden board. I myself don’t get excited about that. But if you do, roll away by all means. I’ll never discourage the use of elbow grease.