Tag Archives: crostoli

Mamma Livia’s pasta making machine

Italians are very good at making things. Think of the Pantheon, the Mona Lisa, anything by Dolce and Gabbana, the Cinque Terre and the Vespa. When I think of how good they are at making things that are timeless and look beautiful, I think of my mother’s Imperia pasta making machine. It belongs to mamma but I have it on permanent loan. It comes in a funky box from the 1970s and it is shiny silver and very heavy (and it is model SP150 if you are interested).

The best thing about this pasta making machine is that it works perfectly after 40 or so years of use. And it looks brand new. All that has ever been used to clean it is a black bristle paint brush used only for that purpose. It brushes away the flour and keeps the machine in perfect working order.It has a detachable wooden handle used to make the rollers go round.

Over the years it has made lasagna sheets, thin tagliatelle, thicker fettuccine in all sorts of flavours and colours and with different types of flour – green pasta with stinging nettles, chocolate pasta and my favourite in the colder months, pasta made with chestnut flour. It has also rolled out crostoli. It has seen us through good times, when we celebrated birthdays with friends and bad times, such as when my father passed away. It is part of my heritage and an integral part of me.

I LOVE my (or should I say, mamma Livia’s) pasta making machine. I know I will use it for years to come and one day I will hand it on to my daughter – though she will call it nonna Livia’s pasta making machine.

Livia’s crostoli

Mamma’s crostoli are quite unlike those made by anyone else. They are lighter and crispier than others I have eaten and retain that freshness for weeks. I made crostoli for the first time last week for the celebration of the life of my father, who passed away on 4 March.

Crostoli are known by many other names (galani, sfrappole, bugie) in Italy, depending on what region of Italy you are in. They are also called angel’s wings and a version is cooked in other countries such as Hungary, Poland and the Ukraine. In Italy, they are a speciality of Veneto and Friuli-Venezia Guilia, which is where my family is from. They are essentially sweet fried pastries twisted into ribbons or bows, hence they look like the wings of angels. Mamma remembers making them with her aunt during the the 1940s and she has perfected her recipe over the years. The major difference between my mother’s recipe and other recipes is that she adds no butter or lard to the dough. Every other recipe I have seen has one or the other or both. They also have a good slosh of grappa added and citrus zest. This results in a pastry that is light, crispy and not as rich as others (often resulting in greater quantities being eaten in one sitting!). My father used to say “uno tira l’altro” in Istrian dialect (meaning…one pulls another one in).

Mamma said that making them the way her zia ‘Rica did takes time. She would stretch the pastry by hand next to the fogoler (stove), the heat making it easier to get the pastry to be so thin that you could almost see through it. A far simpler way is to use a pasta making machine to stretch and thin the pastry. It is a bit like making sweet fried pasta.

Here is the recipe my mamma Livia gave me. Crostoli are perfect with a glass of sweet wine such as a moscato but are also lovely with a bubbly such as prosecco, which we had on the day of the celebration of my father’s life.

Livia’s Crostoli
makes about 50 crostoli
3 cups plain flour
4 tablespoons caster sugar (add a bit more if you like them sweeter)
pinch salt
2 whole eggs and 1 egg yolk
2 tablespoons grappa (or brandy or marsala)
finely grated zest of a large lemon (or an orange if you prefer)
1 tablespoon of white vinegar
1/2 cup water (more if needed)
vegetable oil for frying
icing sugar for dusting

You can mix the dough in a food processor or else by hand. I used the food processor for the inital stage. Put all the ingredients in the food processor and process until they are incorporated and a ball of dough forms. Empty this onto a floured surface and knead for a few minutes to ensure it is homogeneous and smooth. It should be like a rather hard pasta dough. Add more flour or water if needed to get the right consistency whilst you are kneading the dough. Wrap in plastic wrap and allow to rest for at least 30 minutes.

Cut off a quarter of the pastry ball, leaving the remainder in plastic wrap. Roll it flat with a rolling pin into a rectangular shape that will pass through the widest setting of a pasta machine. Roll through the machine, making it thinner at each roll, adding a bit more flour if it is sticks to the bench. It should be rolled through to the thinnest setting of your pasta machine three times. Cut each long strip with a fluted pastry cutter so you have 3 long strips. Cut each of the long strips into 8 to 10 cm pieces. Make an incision in the centre of each piece of dough and thread one end through the incision to make a bow (you don’t have to make the bow but it looks prettier). Repeat with the remaining dough. If you have someone helping you, one person can start cooking the crostoli whilst the other continues rolling and cutting.

To cook, heat vegetable oil in a heavy bottomed saucepan. As crostoli are deep fried, you need the oil to be 5 to 7 cm high in the saucepan. Once the oil is hot, drop in 3 or 4 crostoli (or more depending on the diameter of the saucepan). They take about 30 seconds to cook on each side so you need to work quickly and turn them as soon as the edges start to colour. They should be a sandy colour when cooked. If they are brown, you have burnt them. Once cooked on both sides, remove them with tongs and drain them on absorbent paper. If they take longer than 30 seconds on each side to cook, your oil is not hot enough and they will absorb too much oil. The secret of light crostoli is in the short time they take to cook.

You can eat them warm but I like them at room temperature. Before eating, sprinkle icing sugar over them. I don’t put the icing sugar on until I am ready to serve. I find that this ensures they remain crisp and last in an airtight container for weeks (though you will eat them sooner than that!) .


This photo was taken at my wedding, just under a year ago with my papa’, then aged 89.

Crostoli for my father

Today I made crostoli for the first time and I made them for my father. Crostoli are a delightfully light and sweet pastry to have during times of celebration. Mamma says she learnt to make them from her zia ‘Rica (aunt Enrica) at Gorgo del Monticano (in the Veneto region) during the war. Once my parents had retired, papa’ used to help mamma cut the pastry into beautiful bows before frying them. I remember them in the kitchen, working away together making crostoli.

Last Christmas he said to me “ma Paoletta, dove ti ga impara’ a cusinar cosi’ ben?” (Istrian dialect meaning “where did you learn to cook so well?”), knowing full well my mother taught me to cook. I wish I could hear him say those words again. I wish he could taste the crostoli I made. He would probably tell me to take off the icing sugar, he liked them plain. He would be happy though that I added a splash of grappa to the pastry, just enough lemon zest and that they are light and crisp.

He passed away a few days ago and tomorrow family and friends will be celebrating his wonderful 90 year life. I will bring the crostoli to share and I will think how very much I miss him.

Papa' cutting his prosciutto