Tackling Timpano All about Prep, Patience and A 'Big Night'

A finished (and garnished) timpano.

Every now and then you find yourself at a party and you hear someone talk about a dish somebody made and you think, "I should try that."

Or you wind your way through a restaurant to your table and see something delicious-looking on someone else's plate and think, "I have to try that."

In this case, we're talking about the making -- and eating -- of timpano, a drum-shaped pasta dish that comes with a time-consuming and tricky recipe. I say pasta. It's more like an Italian casserole blanketed in pie crust.

The inspiration is "Big Night," a 1996 movie directed by Campbell Scott and Stanley Tucci. The movie is about the efforts of two Italian immigrants, played by Tucci and Tony Shalhoub, trying to save their failing restaurant.

They end up staking their future on having one grand evening of food, hoping to impress an invited celebrity to spread the word about their special eatery. The chef, Primo (Shalhoub), decides to make timpano. And you get this:

This is what timpano looks like when it comes out of the oven. It is baked upside-down, and you flip it over to cut and serve.

In cooking, as in writing (as in life?), preparation is everything. It is doubly so with timpano.

Making this has the potential to make you feel as if you're preparing Thanksgiving dinner all by yourself. Or if you work ahead one or two days, the only work is changing your flour-laden clothes after you make the crust.

A few things at the start. Firs use penne pasta instead of ziti, which she said makes the dish a bit lighter. Another was to substitute Italian sausage -- hot or mild, your choice -- instead of salami because sausage is easier to chew.

My adjustments were to chop the cooked meatballs and sausages smaller than bite-sized. I did not use provolone cheese because I prefer mozzarella. I added one think layer of fresh parmesan midway through the assembly. (I also added a layer of fresh basil.)

When I make this again -- and I will -- I'll probably double up on the raw eggs and add them twice, once midway through assembly and a second time at the end. Cheating? Maybe. But who really loses in the end?

My order of prep was red sauce, meatballs, sausage, hard-boiled eggs, crust. I prefer to have the sauce marry for day in the refrigerator, so I made it a day ahead.

I changed the way I typically make meatballs, which is to add a lot of parmesan to them and to cook them in the red sauce. This time I used 1.5 pounds of pork and 1.5 pounds of ground beef, minced onion, some bread crumbs, chopped basil and parsley and one egg.

Mix it, form the meatballs slightly smaller than a golf ball. Bake them on a sheet for 35 minutes on a sheet pan.

The sausage: I did not make my own. (Someday, I swear.) I used one package of mild Italian sausage, removing  small chunks of them from the casing to saute.

Once the meatballs and sausages were cooled, I sliced them into marble-sized pieces and put them in the fridge.  Next came a hard boil of the eggs (add vinegar to the water).

Once those were done, they went into the fridge, as did a big pot of sauce.

The next day came the making of the pasta dough and, an hour later, assembly.

The dough was daunting because, well, let's face it: If you screw it up, you're done. You have no fallback plan unless you want spaghetti and meatballs or a sausage and meatball pizza.

Timpano crust before the roll-out.

As you make the dough (recipe below), just remember to help the process along as the mixer does its job. Push the flour from the sides to help incorporate it into the dough.

Add your water slowly so that the dough can form and start to pull away from the side and into a ball. Don't be surprised if for some reason you need to add more water than the recipe calls for to get the dough ball to form. I don't know why this is, it just is.

The dough has to chill for about an hour before you can start rolling it out.

While it's chilling, I started heating the pot of water to cook the penne. It must be done al dente -- only eight minutes on a hard boil. Then drain and add olive oil to keep the noodles from sticking.

The roll-out.

Back to the dough. The size: If you're making a small timpano, as I was this time, there is too much dough for the job. But I figured better to much than not enough. (Right?)

Having a well-floured surface for the dough roll-out is a must. You continually have to add flour as you work, too.

I guess the big key here for this is to have confidence. You can do this. Trust me, if I can do it you can do it. Just keep pushing flour underneath the dough as you roll so that the dough won't stick to the counter you're ready to use it.

Once the dough was where I wanted it, I greased the timpano bowl, flouted the top of the dough and folded it like a blanket. Then I moved it to the bowl, unfolded it inside and made the bottom and sides uniform.

Next came the assembly.

This is the order I used (and I'm not quite sure it's the proper order, if there is such a thing: penne, meatballs, red sauce, eggs, sausage, lots of mozzarella.

More penne, more meatballs, more cheese, more red sauce.

More sausage, more eggs, more mozzarella. Then came the final layer of penne and another layer of red sauce.

At some point, I added a double layer of fresh basil leaves. (And for the next one, I might doctor some of the penne up with pesto to add some more color and taste.)

After you're done filling the bowl, fold the sides of the dough over into the middle. Trim away the excess and make sure the top is sealed. Remember: Once finished, this is actually the bottom.

Filling the bowl with pasta, sauce, sausage, hard-boiled eggs and other goodness.

I was fearful that I'd overfilled the timpano because the it was actually higher than the level of the bowl. A needless worry, as it turned out.

It goes into a 350-degree oven for 30 minutes. Then it sits for at least another 30 minutes.

This is when you start drinking red wine. You need something to calm your nerves, just in case you have a Timpano Fail on your hands.

Next comes the second scary part: flipping the bowl onto a cutting board, tapping on the bowl for luck and removing the bowl. Will the timpano stand on its own? Or will it collapse?

This seemingly fragile dish is not as fragile as you think. It works!

The final scary part comes at the slicing. This is just like a wedding cake with much more terror, because at least with a wedding cake is going to come out in one piece.

A ready-to-bake timpano.

The layers of food were quite apparent. But as cool as the slice looked, it tasted even better. An incredible blend of flavors, none of them overpowering. You could tell the difference between the meatballs and the sausage.

You could taste the basil. The hard-boiled eggs -- yeah, I know it's a bit strange -- melted into the dish as if they were cheese.

The crust was more pie crust than bread crust.

We served our timpano with more red sauce on the side and plenty of red pepper flakes for the heat-inclined.

So now the question is . . . when again?

The answer? The holidays, likely Christmas.

Or maybe another tester before then. In deference to my sister-in-law, I am thinking up a vegetarian version.

A serving of timpano. No extra sauce needed!

Red sauce

1 onion

4 cloves garlic

4 16-ounce cans of tomato sauce

1 can tomato paste

1/2 cup white sugar

2 TBL olive oil

Basil to taste

Oregano, to taste

Fennel seeds, to taste (1 TBL recommended)

Garlic powder, to taste (2 tea recommended)

Onion powder, to taste (1 tea recommended)

Red wine, to taste (half a cup)

This is a basic red sauce. Everybody prefers one style or another. If you like spice sauce, substitute red pepper flakes for the fennel.

Anyway, put the olive oil in a pot, finely chop the onion and sweat it for 4 minutes. Mince the garlic and add. Wait 2 minutes and add all the tomato sauce and the tomato paste.

Stir to incorporate the paste. Add the sugar and stir to help dissolve. Then mix and match the herbs and spices to your preference. With the fennel, I tend to fine chop the seeds into as much of a powder as I can.

Taste as you go. If you like the depth red wine adds, use some. If not, skip it.

Once you have the sauce like you want it, take it off the heat and walk away from 2 hours. Then put it in the refrigerator until you need it.

Dough for crust

4 cups all-purpose flour

2 sticks salted butter - cold

5 egg yolks

1/2 cup ice-cold water

Cut the butter into 1/2-inch cubes. Cut the butter into the flour, then use your fingers to get a crumby, flaky consistency with the flour.

Using a mixer with a dough hook, incorporate the eggs, one at a time. You will need to push the flour away from the sides to help.

Add the cold water a few splashes at a time until the dough pulls away from the sides and forms. Again, you may have to help it along off the sides.

After the dough forms into a ball, shape it into a two-inch wheel, wrap it in plastic and refrigerate it for an hour.