This post has been a long time coming. After getting down reliably good versions of both potato gnocchi and ricotta gnudi over the years, it was downright annoying that I just couldn’t seem to turn out a good version of ricotta gnocchi. I have gotten so many wonderful recommendations from people as far as recipes and methods to try out, and time and again I ended up frustrated, with something that hit short of the mark.

I took a few days off work at the end of the week, a much-needed break from routine and a chance to step back, take a deep breath, and recharge my batteries. I also decided that, with time on my hands and plenty of fresh ricotta at my disposal, I would give ricotta gnocchi one last try before the weather turns too warm for it. I was determined this time to get it right.

I looked back at what went wrong with my previous attempts, and the notes I had made thereafter, and I adjusted my technique accordingly. What I ended up with, to my delight, was a pretty darned perfect batch of gnocchi, light and fluffy, with enough structural integrity to hold up through the cooking process and no hint of chewiness.

Most of the recipes I consulted are written to serve six, so I figured scaling back and working with a smaller quantity of dough would be beneficial. For this batch, I started with one cup of ricotta (our favorite, from Narragansett Creamery), drained overnight in a strainer, wrapped in a double layer of cheesecloth.

I incorporated one farm egg (the eggs we get at the farmers market are all different sizes, but I’d say the one I used here, from Zephyr Farm, was in the extra-large-to-jumbo range), a pinch of kosher salt, a few tablespoons of freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano, and probably 1/3 to 1/2 cup of flour, setting aside a little extra to form the gnocchi. I ended up with enough gnocchi for two generous servings.

Hand-rolling individual gnocchi, rather than rolling out a log of the dough and cutting it into segments, worked well here, with each little dumpling getting only as much handling as it needed. Also helpful: setting the formed gnocchi in the fridge for an hour or so on a sheet pan to firm up before cooking.

The biggest lesson, I think, was to just pay attention to the ingredients, to not worry about how much or little flour I should be adding, but rather, how much the mixture needed.

It took time and a lot of persistence, but I think I’ve finally ended up with a ricotta gnocchi I can be happy with.

(Full photoset here)

Over the weekend, I made plans to again attempt a batch of ricotta gnocchi. Finding a good recipe is a bit of an ongoing project for me, and Judy Rogers’ version in the Zuni Cafe Cookbook came very highly recommended, so I figured I’d give it a whirl. Unfortunately, even though I drained my super-fresh ricotta for two whole days in cheesecloth in the fridge, and tried other ways to correct the batter, my testers were slippery, gelatinous, and inedible. But I had so much of the mixture left, I couldn’t bear to just toss it; instead I tucked it into a container in the fridge and tried to decide how to use it.

During the day on Thursday, Mike pulled the remaining meat from last weekend’s roast chicken carcass and made a pot of stock. That stock was finished by the time I got home from work, and since I didn’t have anything planned for dinner, I decided to make a quick chicken soup. I chunked up the meat Mike had set aside and added it to the stock, along with some diced carrot and thin slices of celery. We had a couple of lemons which were looking a little shriveled, so I added their juice to the pot as well. I adjusted the salt and let the whole thing come to a simmer. Then I remembered the batter.

I pulled it out of its container, tipped it into a bowl, and stirred it up. It had firmed up a bit as it sat in the fridge, but I wanted to give it a little more heft, so I added some flour, beating it in a little at a time, until the dough was as stiff as I wanted it to be. I think I put in between 1/4 and 1/3 cup total.

The carrots were tender and the soup was done, so I raised the heat just a bit as I formed golf-ball sized rounds of the dough. I gently tipped them into the soup and let them cook for 5 or 10 minutes, and was really happy to see that they were holding together beautifully. I ladled the soup and dumplings into deep bowls, added a generous amount of fresh dill, and we ate.

The soup itself was bright and tasty, but the dumplings were amazing – light, fluffy and super-tender, not leaden at all. The little bit of lemon zest that I had added to the original batter still came through, which was a nice accent to the lemony broth. I was so pleased with these that I might just forget about mastering ricotta gnocchi altogether and focus on how I can play with these dumplings… like adding some chopped fresh herbs, perhaps?

Mastering ricotta gnocchi has been a bit of an ongoing project for me. I love the idea of having a lighter version than the classic potato gnocchi in my arsenal, and we get such delicious fresh ricotta from Louella that I want to use it whenever possible. So I’m sad to report that this latest attempt, while not the epic FAIL of my last try, still missed the mark.

This was another situation, I think, where following a recipe doesn’t always produce perfect results. The source is one I trust: my beloved Sunday Suppers at Lucques. I used the proportions indicated (2 cups of AP flour, 2 beaten eggs, 1 lb. of ricotta, drained overnight in a cheesecloth-lined strainer, salt, pepper), and the mixture was so wet that it was unworkable. I had to add at least another cup of flour to the mix just to get it to a point where it didn’t adhere in gobs to my fingers and any surface it touched, which left me with a much denser dough than I presume the recipe intended.

I pressed forward and blanched the little dumplings in batches, tossing them with a slick of olive oil after fishing them from the boiling water, and I served them with a light and slightly spicy tomato-butter sauce. They were tasty for sure, and not leaden, starchy blobs like the last batch I made, but they had a bit more chew than I would have liked. Still, I’m not going to give up on my mission – I have every intention of trying again, and if you have any favorite tips, tricks or go-to recipes for making ricotta gnocchi to suggest, I’d love to hear them.

I decided to surprise him this year. His office wasn’t closed for the Columbus Day holiday, and mine was, so I had the apartment to myself and it would be easy. The plan was to make gnocchi – I haven’t done it in over a year, and a friend recently asked for some tips, so I’ve had gnocchi on the brain lately.

I’ve made dozens of batches of these little dumplings over the years, with varying degrees of success. The ones I made last night were my lightest yet, though I think they were almost too delicate. Still, I was pleased overall with the result and more importantly, Mike loved them.

I’m not going to print a recipe here, because I think gnocchi are something you just need to try and try and try again until you get a feel for them. I’ve always used Lidia’s recipe as a base, and I referred to Heidi and Elise this time around as well. I would estimate that I ended up using about 2 cups of potato, one egg seasoned with about 1/4 teaspoon of kosher salt, and about a cup of flour – far less flour than I have ever used before.

As I said above, this made for extremely light gnocchi, but a few of them just barely held together in the sauce. It’s possible that gnocchi like this would do better in a lighter sauce – sage brown butter, perhaps – as opposed to the wild mushroom cream sauce I served them with last night.

The birthday boy had no complaints, though, and he happily downed two helpings between phone calls from our families passing along their well-wishes. We opened a bottle of Bindella Vino Nobile di Montepulciano with our meal, and drank a toast to the year ahead.