Have you ever tried to make a stuffed pasta pie? Not a pasta omelet, like the typical Neapolitan one, but a pie like a savory pie, a pasta quiche, in short… a pasta quiche.
Like this one:

It’s a long story. 😃 It all started a long time ago, with this clipping pasted in my recipe notebook, a notebook I periodically talk to you about.

The recipe notebook is a treasure trove of old, very old recipes that now belong to history. It contains magazine clippings, packaging backs, advertising flyers, you name it, all forgotten by everyone now.

The tortellini quiche from the clipping remained in a corner of my mind for decades (a couple of decades), and it continued to fascinate me for some mysterious reason. For years I told myself, “one day I’ll try it.”
And about a year ago, I finally decided to try it. I mean, to start trying it… because since that day I’ve repeated it in a loop at least five times. 😃

The doubt I had until that day, of that first test, was always just one: why “ruin” good tortellini to turn them into a quiche? or a pie? in short, into a mix of stuffed pasta + cream + eggs + brisée + etc.?
In the end, I understood it. Just don’t use good tortellini. Or another good stuffed pasta.
Because the good kind, i.e., the homemade one, we don’t spontaneously transform into a pie. And because the good kind, at least at my house, after all the work involved in making it – that is, making the pasta, rolling it, adding the filling, closing it by hand, and in the case of tortellini and cappelletti rolling them around the finger one by one – it’s pretty difficult to have the courage to mess up our beautiful homemade stuffed pasta. Isn’t it the same for you?

But… I know, you’re asking yourself: what would be the stuffed pasta defined as ‘not so good‘ suitable for this?
Come on, let’s admit it. It must have happened to you too, (oh no?) (oh yes eh!), we’ve all been tempted, sooner or later, by the 3×2 or 2×1 supermarket offers. There you go. Those are the only times I sometimes buy that pseudo (no offense eh) packaged fresh pasta like ricotta and spinach tortelloni (I definitely buy the ones with ricotta, I avoid those with meat fillings). In short, depending on the brands, the packaged stuffed pasta is sometimes decent, but sometimes not, sometimes you wonder why you fell for it, and you curse yourself for being fooled by the 3×2.

And it happened on one of those days that I tried making this stuffed pasta pie for the first time. After cooking tortelloni with a not-so-appetizing greenish filling, which almost all opened during cooking, and which, really, were not presentable on the plate, not even for us who are not picky eaters… It was at that moment that I remembered my notebook, the clipping, and the recipe for the never-tried tortellini quiche. I needed to save what I could, so I took out the brisée pastry I had in the fridge and gave it a go.

And the result, it may seem strange but it is so, surprised me. A packaged brisée + two packs of good-for-nothing packaged tortelloni + a bit of cream and a bit of cooked ham + a gratin in the oven managed to transform into a pasta pie that was worth something.

That first pasta pie was the first of a series, all improving. I tried a second time with another type of stuffed pasta, then on the third occasion I introduced my homemade brisée, and I realized it could be further improved, so at that point I made the leap: I tried with serious ricotta tortelloni, still purchased, but from artisanal fresh pasta. We had feasted on them the day before, with butter and sage, as Emilian tradition dictates, and the next day there were really few left. To avoid the two children fighting over them – I’ll eat them, no, I’ll eat them – I played the pasta pie card.
The novelty this time was the addition of potatoes: the brilliant idea of adding potatoes to fill the empty spaces, due to the few available tortelloni, was my daughter’s: a winning idea.
Our Flavia, quietly, I must admit, she apparently has a cooking knack! 😍

☸ ☸ ☸