Ravioli dream

In my dream I bought a pack of DIY ravioli at the supermarket. Opening it revealed hundreds of tiny soft squares, a pair of scissors, some red bubble-wrap, and a needle and thread.

Following the instructions on the box, I began to make ravioli. First I had to trim the squares; the scissors had oddly-shaped blades and made a crinkled cut. I was reminded of the scissors I had found in my grandmother’s sewing box in my youth; I’m not sure what purpose they had served, but their blades had been shaped so as to produce a zig-zag cut in fabric. I had spent many hours putting exciting zig-zag edging on magazines and newspapers.

After some time I had made a small pile of crinkly-edged squares. I threaded the needle and began to sew pairs of them together, leaving one edge open as instructed.

Inspection of what I had assumed to be bubble-wrap revealed that each bubble was a tiny plastic-sealed capsule of tomato-flavoured soya protein. As I finished stitching together each individual raviolus, I cut open a single compartment of the plastic using a Stanley knife, and squeezed the contents into the newly-made edible container. Finally, I stitched each raviolus carefully shut and placed it on a plate.

Much later I finished making the ravioli and came to the conclusion that the prices in Italian restaurants were really quite reasonable after all.

I completed the meal by coating the Stanley knife in breadcrumbs and frying it.