While we’re on a carb bender from the challah, let’s offend some Italians with homemade gnocchi. I didn’t use a recipe here, but everything was fairly basic yet time-consuming. My 3rd grade teacher told me I would never be smart enough to make gnocchi and sauce from scratch and bake it, so let’s prove that hag wrong. If I get flak for my ingredients or methods, I will update the post with a story of how I made this every Sunday with my Nonna when I would visit her in Portofino during each summer.

Let’s start with the sauce. Here’s a little culinary secret I’ve learned: It doesn’t matter what you put in a sauce. As long as the ingredients somewhat make sense, it’ll be good. It may take some work, but I will eventually convince you. My sauce starts with a medium white onion, diced fairly small. I sauté the onion in olive oil and butter with salt and pepper until browned. I then add tomato paste (and when I remember, I also add a small amount of anchovy paste and balsamic vinegar for extra depth) and stir it into the onion, cooking until slightly caramelized. Then comes a can of tomato puree, fresh or dried oregano and basil, crushed red pepper flakes, and grated parmesan. The sauce gets reduced on medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until desired thickness is reached. I wanted a thick sauce for this, as I didn’t want the dish to get soupy.

For the gnocchi, peel and boil yukon gold potatoes in salted water. Once tender, mash them with a fork and let cool. In goes an egg, salt, pepper, and more grated parmesan. Into our mashed potato and egg mixture we slowly add flour and mix until we have a workable dough ball. Knead this for a few minutes until everything comes together. The gnocchi is supposed to be thick and tender, so we don’t want to overwork the dough here. Once mixed, plop it into a bowl, and let rest for at least a half hour while you check in with your AI girfriend to share the hilariously sarcastic Reddit comment you made earlier today.

Now to the fun part. Cut the gnocchi dough into manageable pieces, about the size of the billiard balls your dad used to throw at you, and roll into snakes on a lightly-floured surface, about the diameter of a garter snake. Using a sharp knife or pizza cutter, cut into small pieces and place on a floured baking sheet. Once you get about halfway done with this, you will recall that you had made perfectly good mashed potatoes an hour ago, and you will question the decision-making that led you to this point. But stick with it. Take a break to start boiling salted water. Once you finish, you will have a baking sheet filled with misshapen and uneven gnocchi, some thrice the size of others. But as I’ve said before, no one will notice in the finished product.

Speaking of no one noticing, skip the step where you roll them down a fork or a specialized gnocchi board. It takes way too long, adds nothing to the taste, and adds very little to the texture. If your dough is too sticky or too springy, the ridges won’t hold anyway. If you cover the gnocchi in red sauce, your guests won’t even be able to see the lack of ridges.

Dump the gnocchi into the boiling water, ensuring you scald both hands and forearms with splashback. Make sure you keep stirring to avoid them sticking together. They will float when done, but don’t be afraid to pop a few sample gnocchi to check for doneness. Once done, drain and mix with your sauce in a large bowl. Pour into a baking sheet, top with fresh mootz, and throw under the broiler until browned. Remove from the broiler and serve.

That wasn’t so bad, was it? Yes, it takes a while and involves longer periods of manual labor. But the effort makes it worth it. So he’re the baked gnocchi that Danny made:

Do you have a favorite food you want me to make? Please provide suggestions below or contact me here.