Cheese-Filled Toasted Ravioli

Toasted ravioli—or t-ravs, as they’re affectionately called locally—are a St. Louis specialty. Breaded and fried until lightly crisp, they’re typically filled with meat or cheese and served with a bowl of marinara sauce for dipping. Like many of life’s greatest pleasures, the invention of toasted ravioli has often been attributed to a happy accident. Writing for the Chicago Tribune in 1999, the journalist Renee Enna reports that Terry Lane, a cook at the St. Louis restaurant Oldani’s Steak House, accidentally dropped a beef-and-pork–filled raviolo into the fryer sometime in the 1940s. Lane garnished the golden result with cheese and it was a hit among locals. 

As word spread, restaurants across the Hill (an Italian-American neighborhood in St. Louis) soon began serving toasted ravioli. Though this is the origin story most people are familiar with, the writer Robert Moss—who dug into the history of the St. Louis specialty for Epicurious—notes that people were making toasted ravioli much earlier than the 1940s. Moss attributes the dish’s popularity to the Oregonian’s food columnist Lilian Tingle, who recommended a reader fry their ravioli “like doughnuts” after possibly encountering fried ravioli during her travels in Italy. Italy, after all, has its own tradition of fried ravioli, including sweet fried ones often eaten during Carnevale and more sweet-savory squash-filled ones called barbagiuan (originally from Monaco but now also a specialty of Liguria).

Today, toasted ravioli is an iconic St. Louis dish—one you can make at home if you don’t live in the Lou. But not living in St. Louis isn't the only reason to make your own. It's also worthwhile because it allows you to control the results, which isn't a minor issue with a recipe like this. As with many starch-on-starch creations, good results depend on a very thoughtful handling of all the elements, lest you end up with a leaden and overly doughy sinker of a snack.

While one can debate what makes for "good" toasted ravioli, I've set my sights on ensuring two critical details. First, the ravioli should not be overwhelmingly doughy, which is an easy mistake to make when creating a stuffed pasta that's then coated in breading and fried. This means that both the pasta and the breading should be thin and light. At the same time, the breading itself should come out truly crispy, otherwise why are we going to the trouble of breading and frying them in the first place?

Beyond that, there are more obvious goals, like a delicious filling and flavorful marinara dipping sauce.

Here are the techniques I used to achieve those results.

Getting the Pasta Dough Right

Most recipes for toasted ravioli call for store-bought pasta, but it’s worth making your own, as it gives you more control over the thickness of the dough and how much filling to use. You want a dough that’s sturdy enough to handle the breading procedure, but still thin enough to not overwhelm the snack with excess starchiness. 

Here, I’ve chosen to use both whole eggs and yolks; as former Serious Eats editor Niki Achitoff-Gray once noted, the addition of yolks—which contain about 48% water, 17% protein, and 33% fat—delivers “more color, more egg flavor, and silkier noodles.” While that additional fat results in a more flavorful dough, it can make it more difficult to develop a strong gluten network, as fat has a tendency to coat glutenin and gliadin, the two proteins essential in forming gluten. Taking the time to properly knead the dough helps to encourage gluten development, giving pasta its signature spring. Resting the dough after it’s been kneaded allows it to further hydrate and for the gluten to relax, making it easier to roll out into thin sheets of pasta.

A Filling That's Rich Yet Light

My first attempt at the filling—a mixture of ricotta, fontina, Parmigiano Reggiano, and pecorino romano—was reminiscent of a mozzarella stick. It was molten and cheesy, and while this is traditional for St. Louis's cheese-filled toasted ravioli, I wanted something a little lighter. After some tweaking, I landed on a mixture of three parts ricotta to one part mozzarella, which makes a fluffy filling that’s still slightly melty without being too heavy.

Since most of the filling is made of ricotta, it’s worth using the good stuff. As Kenji has written previously, the quality of ricotta can vary widely. While the very best ricotta is creamy with a pleasant acidity, poorly made ricotta has the tendency to be both gritty and tasteless. 

Look for cheese without gums or stabilizers; higher quality ricotta, writes Kenji, should only have milk, salt, and an acid or natural culture in its ingredients list. As for the mozzarella, we here at Serious Eats love the full-fat kind—but if you can’t find any, low-moisture mozzarella can be substituted.

Breading and Frying

It’s not toasted ravioli without the breading, which gives the dumpling its signature crispiness when fried. You could buy pre-seasoned Italian breadcrumbs, but making homemade seasoned breadcrumbs with fresh parsley, rosemary, and thyme brings an additional dimension of freshness and herbaceousness.

Before dipping the pasta into the egg wash and breadcrumbs, I freeze the pasta until it’s firm. Not only does this make the ravioli easier to handle, but it also prevents the fragile dough from tearing during the breading process. After the ravioli is evenly coated, I return the pasta to the freezer for 15 minutes to give the coating time to set.

Shallow-fried until golden brown, each ravioli is satisfyingly crisp and cheesy. They’re even more delicious when sprinkled with Parmesan cheese and dipped into marinara sauce. And the best part? You didn’t have to travel all the way to St. Louis for it.