Nothing compares
The best-ever butternut squash ravioli a la celebrity chef Todd English

True culinary brilliance is revealed by the creation of extraordinary food from the most humble of building blocks. For example, the butternut squash ravioli that stole the show at the Whitefish Food and Wine Festival this year. Nothing more than flour, egg, cream, squash, almonds and Parmesan (of which, the chef noted, you can never have too much), those succulent and nubile stuffed noodles, frosted with brown butter foam, were arguably more delicious than the wagyu meatballs at the adjoining table. 

I am pop-food-culture illiterate. I haven’t watched food TV since Julia was on. I had maybe heard of Todd English but without being prepped, I was able to meet him with no preformed opinions. 

Todd English

A server handed me a small plate of wild mushrooms on polenta, and suddenly I could feel the chef behind me. Not so much Chef English as the bubble of fanboys and girls that drifted into my personal space. I turned around to see a man who appeared unlike his East Coast fancy pants Englishman persona. He was more like a redneck who just crawled out of an outbuilding. In other words, someone I wanted to party with. His cheffing done for the day, English wore a pair of greasy jeans and what appeared to be a buckskin vest. 

I introduced myself and told him I hoped to nerd out about food. Gravely, arms folded across his barrel chest, he nodded in agreement. Then he motioned the server to add more balsamic reduction to my chanterelles. 

English, an Italian master of the Irish goodbye, quickly vanished, leaving me to contemplate how the balsamic reduction perfectly enhanced the chanterelles. I felt like I was eating music. Then I sauntered over to the wagyu meatballs, where, after washing them down with the closest glass of red I could find, I concluded it doesn’t get any better than this. And then I met the ravioli that changed my life.

In my first bites of those fragrant clouds, my weekend peaked. Possibly my life. At the very least, I should have retired from eating right then. Because nothing that has followed compares to those plump, fluffy, creamy squares. 

Later that evening, I cornered the Chef at the bar, where we proceeded to nerd out. “Music is just noise until it hits your brain,” he said. “It’s your brain that perceives all those sounds together as music. And it’s the same with food ... our brain translates it into a symphony of flavors. 

“I love a good symphony, with cellos, violins and clarinets. But I also like a simple quartet, be it classical or …,” he trailed off. I was waiting for him to say “AC/DC,” but just then his sensors tripped. He pushed away the glasses on the bar in front of him as two pizzas were set down. The Chef grabbed the red meaty one and absconded. 

The night was young, as was the weekend of wine and food-fueled debauchery. The last time I saw The Toddfather was in the ski lodge atop Big Mountain. Like a true Montanan, he was grumbling about not being able to find any ranch dressing. His vision was to use ranch to bind caviar onto onion rings. As soon as the ranch appeared, he got to work. The fanboys and girls lined up, and one by one the famous chef placed a ranch’d, caviar’d onion ring into their mouths. 

Weeks later, when the wine stains had long dried, my son, Remy, and I recreated that ridiculous ravioli, following the recipe English so generously gave me. With a pasta attachment to the Kitchenaid, we rolled out sheets of fresh pasta and filled them with a mixture that was more intoxicating than the contents of any bottle. Those ravioli are a true symphony, created from the simplest of notes, possibly discordant until they reached my brain where the array of flavors was understood to be a masterpiece. I will never look at a squash the same way again. 

The artistry here is in the filling and sauce. For the pasta, follow the ravioli recipe of your choice.  

Butternut Squash Ravioli

2 Tbsp. unsalted butter

6 c. butternut squash (or Hubbard or kabocha)

1/2 c. ground amaretti cookies (or crushed almonds)

1/2 c. fresh bread crumbs

1/2 c. finely grated Parmesan cheese

1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg

1 1/2 tsp. kosher salt

1/4 tsp. Freshly ground black pepper

Melt butter in a large skillet over medium heat and add squash. Cook until squash starts to caramelize and becomes golden brown – about 10 minutes. Add water to cover and cook until squash is tender, about 20 minutes. Transfer squash to a food processor. Add the amaretti, bread crumbs, Parmesan, nutmeg, salt and pepper. Blend until smooth.

Brown Butter Sauce

1/4 pound butter

1/8 pound Parmesan grated

1 cup heavy cream

1/4 tsp salt

Fresh sage leaves

Heat olive oil and fry the sage leaves on medium-high until crisp but not burnt. Meanwhile, melt the butter in pot, reduce heat to medium, whisk until milk solids cook to a golden brown. Add cream, bring to simmer. Add Parmesan. Strain through a fine mesh sieve. Whip with emulsion blender, spoon foam on top of pasta. Garnish with crispy sage leaves. ?