I don't care what Jamie Oliver says. It is not possible to make pasta from scratch without a pasta machine. Now I know that the invention of pasta predates the invention of the pasta machine, but I think we all know that in past eras everyone apparently had just one thing they needed to accomplish each day, and I guess for some people making pasta from scratch was that thing, so they figured out some way to do it, probably by spending the entire day rolling it. So if that's what you want to do, hey, I won't stop you from trying.
If you are a regular modern person with a job or something, or you just don't want to spend the whole day making pasta from scratch, I am going to show you the absolute biggest and thinnest you will be able to get your pasta if you follow the recipe from Jamie Oliver's first cookbook, The Naked Chef. I'm pretty excited, because this is the first picture to appear on the blog. But I probably shouldn't be that excited, because it's kind of a lame picture. Here you go:
I guess you can't really tell how thin that is, but I am telling you that it's not very thin. The only kind of cool thing about it is that it's sort of in the shape of Canada, if only Hudson Bay didn't exist. If only.
Anyway, when you cut this up and boil it, it will literally be as thick and puffy as a Sbarro pizza crust, except it will also be kind of hard. Gross.
Obviously, it kind of sucks when any recipe doesn't work out the way it promised to. But I find it especially disappointing when a Jamie Oliver recipe doesn't work, because that guy is really handsome, and he actually wrote at the beginning of the recipe, "I really want you to make this," which I could just hear him saying in that fetching accent of his. So when it didn't work, I sort of felt as though a handsome Englishman had stood me up. Irrational as that is.