Introducing TOP Kneading Club
an announcement about this newsletter, new Mondays, and mezzelune pasta to cook and eat
When I started writing The Onion Papers, I wanted to find a place where I could explore cooking as storytelling. I was hunting for physicality as part of writing, so I took this newsletter to the kitchen and developed recipes as a starting point to pay attention and to think about bodies, creativity and language; about the seasons and how we consume the world around us. In September, I celebrated one year of writing The Onion Papers, how much I love to play with forms and bend language over here, and how I’m grateful for you to be here with me.
Much has happened between September and November, and I find myself writing this newsletter in a different context on both personal and professional levels. I’ve also been thinking about what I want for The Onion Papers moving forward, in terms of content and resources. I value the newsletter format for the proximity it conveys between readers and writers and, with such a relationship between readers and the author, also comes responsibility. As the author of TOP, I must be truthful with the work, the ambitions I hold for it, and the fact that I’d never want to take your mailbox for granted so, starting from next Monday, I’m introducing a new publishing schedule for The Onion Papers.
I’m excited to be launching TOP Kneading Club. These will be weekly entries for paid subscribers and feature home-cooked recipes and some pairing notes—a recipe book and almanac in drafting. We’ll witness the seasons as they unfold, writing and crafting, and think about how these interlink with bodies and language. In terms of food, the recipes will be approachable, and I’ll keep things vegetarian, with the occasional fish recipe (for which I’ll do my best to provide veggie alternatives), and a sweet touch for good measure. The Monday entries will be looser than the long-form essays, which will remain free and dispatched every other Thursday.
If this sounds like something you’d enjoy, you can upgrade to a paid subscription at the bottom below.
Here is what you can expect from The Onion Papers:
TOP Kneading Club: weekly recipes and notes, sent on Mondays to paid subscribers. In the kitchen, we’ll talk about creativity and the land, working a dough or frying vegetables, passing on a story and earmarking our time. If you’ve been looking for a friend to experiment more in the kitchen, I hope you’ll join me.Â
TOP Pantry: an index of all the Onion Papers recipes, for paid subscribers, and the occasion to share some thoughts and to ask questions.
TOP Stories: dispatched to all subscribers every other Thursday. Topics and forms vary with my mood and the seasons.Â
In terms of cost, there are four subscription options: free; £4 per month, so that’s £1 a newsletter; £40 per year; >£40 per year for founding members who would like to give something extra, and who also receive something extra from me (see below).
Thank you for supporting my work, thank you. And I hope that you’ll find a tender, thoughtful community here with The Onion Papers.Â
*If you could use a culinary community but aren’t in the position to pay for a membership at this time, drop me a line. No questions asked.
*Not all recipes will require you to knead a dough..!
*You can unsubscribe in one click, at any time.
*If you know someone who could use a culinary and writing community, you could
*If you’re still fairly new to TOP, some good examples of the things we cook, eat and discuss include Cucina Pantesca, Soups, No Timer, In Praise of Eating in Bed or A Matter of Taste. Sometimes I also take TOP places such as Vendée, Livorno, or foraging. If you’re wondering who is cooking, this is fair, and you can read more about me here or find me on Instagram @margauxvlln.
To end this week’s announcement, one of my favourite pasta recipes as a means of introduction. This dish is a great, ambivalent friend for the shorter days: crescent moon shaped pasta, with a citrusy filling. These are easy pasta to make at home too, trust me, and you don’t need a pasta machine to prepare them. Recipe for mezzelune pasta, filled with ricotta, lemon and basil, served with a cavolo nero and pistachio pesto.
for the dough
150g semolina
150g flour (00)
3 eggs, 1 yolk
a drizzle of oil; a pinch of salt
(I enjoy working doughs that are 50/50 semolina and flour a lot, so this is a twist on the original egg/flour recipe.)
On a wooden surface, or in a large bowl, mix the flour and semolina with your hands. Dig a small hole in the middle and add oil and salt. Crack one egg after the other, kneading in between, until you’ll reach a homogeneous dough. Make a ball and leave it to rest for 30 minutes underneath an upside-down bowl.
for the filling
250g ricotta
20g basil, cut roughly with your fingers
zest of 1 lemon
ricotta salata, grated (parmesan works too)
nutmeg, salt and pepper to taste
In a bowl, mix everything together, but reserve the ricotta salata or parmesan cheese. Then start grating the ricotta salata/parmesan until the consistency will have thickened enough to hold in a teaspoon.
for the pesto
200g cavolo nero, stem removed and leaves boiled until soft
a generous handful of pistachio, crushed
parmesan cheese, grated, to taste
salt to taste
olive oil, until you’ll have the wanted consistency (remember that oil is the key ingredient of a pesto)
Crush the pistachio with a pestle. Start adding the chilled cavolo nero, alternating with tablespoon of olive oil, mixing continuously. Once the cavolo nero will have reduced fully, add the parmesan cheese, salt and more oil if you’d like. Leave the pesto to macerate in the fridge.
to assemble the pasta
With a rolling pin, stretch the dough lengthwise. Start passing each sheet through a pasta machine and keep going until you’ll reach the wanted thickness. It was number 4 on my machine this time: not too thin, so each mezzeluna can hold its filling. If you don’t have a pasta machine, you can stretch the dough with a rolling pin, and a bit more patience.
Next, you’ll need to cut the dough in round bits. I use a small tart dish to shape mine – look around your kitchen, what matters is that all pasta have the same diameter. Cut the dough and drop a teaspoon of filling at the centre of each parcel. Fold the dough in two and seal it with your fingertips.Â
In a pot, bring water to the boil and cook the mezzelune until they’ll float. In the meantime, in a pan, warm up the pesto over a low heat (you can add another drizzle of oil if it looks dry). Transfer the pasta into the pan and gently mix the mezzelune and pesto together with a wooden spoon.
This pesto works magic with other pasta shapes too, in case you wanted to use a pack of pasta you have in the cupboard already. Let me know whether you’ll end up cooking any of the two?
I’m really excited for this new chapter of The Onion Papers, and I hope that you’ll join me. You’re the best part of writing this newsletter and I love to read about what you’re cooking, or not cooking.
Knead to raise a dough; we knead to rise.
See you on Monday for Kneading Club,
Margaux
This month on TOP I also shared some exciting news about my second novel, Breaststrokes. You can read more about it here and pre-order a copy here.
I just finished reading The Yellow Kitchen this week and was so taken by your descriptions of food and cooking (especially the chapter with Anna Jones' lentil recipe) that I found my way to your substack. When I saw this recipe on Friday, I knew I wanted to make it! I just invited friends over for the pasta (albeit in ravioli form) with the pesto. It was the first time they all came around mine, and felt very special to make something so nice :) Chef's kiss - will be making again! Thank you.
Can't wait for Monday!!