Ricotta Gnocchi — When You’re Learning to Make Dough From Scratch

December in Milwaukee. The city transforms. Christmas lights on Wisconsin Avenue, ice skating at Red Arrow Park, the smell of roasted nuts from vendors downtown. Everything is cold and bright and festive, and even the guys at the brewery who claim to hate Christmas are humming carols by the second week. I spent most of this week doing two things: working double shifts at the brewery (holiday demand for Fireside and our regular lineup is insane) and trying to cook things for Christmas gifts. Yes, I'm making food gifts. Stop laughing. Here's the plan: I'm going to make batches of Babcia's pierogi and package them as gifts for Mom, Dad, Babcia, and a few friends. It's ambitious considering I've only made pierogi filling once and never made the dough solo, but I promised Babcia I'd learn, and there's no better way to learn than by committing to a deadline. Attempt one on Tuesday: disaster. The dough was too dry, cracked when I tried to roll it, and the pierogi fell apart in the boiling water. I threw the whole batch in the trash and sat on the kitchen floor and said a word that would have gotten me grounded if Mom heard. Attempt two on Thursday: better. I added more water to the dough and kneaded it longer. The texture was closer to right — smooth, elastic, not sticky. I rolled them thinner (Babcia's voice in my head: "Thinner! Almost see-through!") and the filling held. They didn't fall apart in the water. They weren't beautiful — lumpy, uneven, the seal was messy on half of them — but they were pierogi. Real pierogi. I fried a few in butter and ate them standing at the counter. They tasted like Babcia's kitchen. Not like Babcia's pierogi — the dough was still too thick, the ratio of filling to dough was off — but like the room where she makes them. Like Sunday. Like memory. I have two weeks to get them right. I'll get them right. Sunday at Babcia's she made barszcz with uszka — beet soup with mushroom dumplings. The Christmas menu is coming. Every Sunday between now and December 24th will build toward Wigilia, the Christmas Eve feast. It's the most important meal of the year. Twenty courses. Twelve dishes. No meat (on Christmas Eve — Wigilia is traditionally meatless). Babcia has been building toward this meal since August, drying mushrooms and saving ingredients. The woman plans Christmas dinner like a military campaign.

All that time in Babcia’s kitchen—watching her work dough, obsessing over the ratio of filling to dough, chasing that feeling of Sunday in every bite—had me thinking about handmade pasta in a different way. Pierogi are still a work in progress, but I needed a win, something soft and pillowy and made from scratch that I could actually get right this week. Ricotta gnocchi scratched that itch: simple ingredients, similar meditative folding, and the kind of comfort food that doesn’t require two more weeks of practice.

Ricotta Gnocchi From Scratch

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 15 oz whole-milk ricotta, drained overnight in a cheesecloth or fine-mesh strainer
• 1 large egg
• 1 large egg yolk
• 3/4 cup finely grated Parmesan, plus more for serving
• 1 tsp kosher salt, plus more for the pot
• 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 1/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
• 1 cup all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
• 4 tbsp unsalted butter
• 6–8 fresh sage leaves

Instructions

1. Drain the ricotta. If you haven’t drained it overnight, press it in a cheesecloth-lined strainer for at least 30 minutes. Wet ricotta is the enemy of gnocchi that hold their shape — this step is non-negotiable.
2. Make the dough. In a large bowl, combine the drained ricotta, egg, egg yolk, Parmesan, salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Mix until smooth. Add the flour and fold gently until a soft, slightly sticky dough forms. Do not overwork it — stop the moment it comes together.
3. Shape the gnocchi. Dust a clean work surface generously with flour. Turn the dough out and divide into 4 equal pieces. Roll each piece into a rope about 3/4 inch thick. Cut each rope into 1-inch pieces. You can press each piece lightly with a fork for ridges, or leave them smooth.
4. Boil in batches. Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil. Cook the gnocchi in batches — do not crowd the pot. They are done about 30 seconds after they float to the surface. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside on a lightly oiled sheet pan.
5. Make the brown butter sauce. In a large skillet over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the sage leaves and cook, swirling occasionally, until the butter turns golden and smells nutty, about 3–4 minutes. Remove the sage leaves and set aside.
6. Finish the gnocchi. Add the boiled gnocchi to the skillet in the brown butter. Let them sit undisturbed for 1–2 minutes to develop a light golden crust on one side, then toss gently. Season to taste.
7. Serve immediately. Plate the gnocchi, top with the crisped sage leaves, a generous shower of Parmesan, and extra black pepper. Eat standing at the counter if you have to. You earned it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 19g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 580mg