~ Usin' The Ol' Noodle ~
She didn't even know it was lost until I made an inquiry yesterday, and now it's driving my mom crazy; she can't find my 4th grade class cookbook. And, truthfully, it's not exactly a book. We each hand-wrote a recipe on 8.5 x 11 carbon paper, and our teacher used the ever-reliable, unmistakable purple-inked ditto machine to print our recipes on colored paper. I bet you if I caught a whiff of fresh ditto machine paper at any given moment, I could identify it on the spot. Yep. Add that to the list of indelible memories. Anyway, one staple in the corner and - viola! - let's call it a cookbook, and you can give it to your parents, kids.
My mom allegedly has two copies of this cookbook: one she has handy, the other MIA. The one my mom keeps with her other bonafide cookbooks is missing the last several pages, one of which had my paternal grandma's recipe for homemade noodles written in my 4th grade hand, of course. Mom's other copy has been apparently put away "for good". She didn't really say that, but that's my secret guess. She is, however, determined to find it, and a picture will appear here when she does.
This brings me to wonder... how many of you are familiar with this goofy old-fashioned phrase "for good"? My grandma was famous (in my mind) for it. Can't use the china; it's for good. We don't sleep on the nice sheets; they're only for good. Those new towels... don't you dare touch 'em; saving them for good. I imagine that "for good" is the reason my grandma had stacks upon stacks of brand new shoes in original boxes when she passed. Too bad the length of my foot had surpassed hers years before, because it was just about time those styles were coming back. Rats!
Grandma's homemade noodles never went out of style, though, and they may very well be the oldest "Keeper" I have in my culinary repertoire. Now I share them with you.
Grandma's Homemade Noodles
1/2 teaspoon salt
sifted flour (about 1 1/4 cups)
Add salt to the eggs and whisk together. Whisk in 1/2 cup of the flour. Alright, I confess that I really didn't sift the flour. It didn't seem ultra lumpy, and I was impatient to get on with the noodling. Hence, the whisk. Whisks suffice for on-the-fly sifting, right? My keen rationalization skills made it make sense, and it worked out. It's all good...
Switch to a fork and keep incorporating flour until it makes a stiff dough, and you can get your hands in there without too much stickiness.
Knead thoroughly, then divide into two portions. On a floured surface, roll out each portion relatively thin. Grandma liked to then cover it with a cloth and let it partially dry. Grandma apparently never had this kind of jonesin' for chicken noodle soup; I chose to immediately cut it into 1/4"-1/2" strips with my pizza cutter.
Separate the noodles and toss them around as you spread them out. Periodically re-toss until dried.
One look at this pathetic little batch, and I knew it wouldn't be enough. Since these are so simple to whip up, on to Round Two.
This is more like it.
When they are thoroughly dried, they can be stored in plastic bags for future use. Don't ask me how long because I almost always cook them as soon as the broth boils. Only a couple times have they dried overnight. Never have they seen a plastic bag.
Cook in boiling broth or add to soups until done, 15-20 minutes or more. Part of the fun is the sampling along the way, all in the name of testing for doneness.
For a printer friendly version without photos, click here.