Whenever I mention fava beans, it seems someone -- usually a person who has never eaten one -- ends up deadpanning Hannibal Lecter. I'm sure you've heard it, and maybe you're even the dinner-party comic who likes to throw in this quip when some poor bookish vegetable lover like me tries to talk seriously about broad beans. Now I'll admit that Anthony Hopkins seemed alluringly creepy while chatting with Clarice Starling (aka Jodie Foster) in The Silence of the Lambs, but his chilling tale of enjoying beans and a nice Chianti with some poor census taker's liver just doesn't do justice to the fava. I mean, come on, liver with fava beans?

For the last 20 years, the fava bean has been associated with this movie, which is unfair as it's been around for millennia. It was one of the earliest plants to be cultivated in Asia and North Africa, and has done more than its part to keep both ancient and modern people fed and happy. It even had an important role in early democracy, when ancient Greek and Roman voters would submit a white bean for a yes vote, and a black bean for a no vote. Imagine all those hunky scantily clad Greek men (because let's face it, there were no women voting in Ancient Greece) tossing beans in a ceramic pot. Now that's some food history. So the next time someone brings up Hannibal Lecter at a dinner party where you're serving fava beans, mention this interesting fact. Sure, your dinner guests' eyes may glaze over with your nerdy tale, but you'll end the Hannibal Lecter laughter full stop.

But don't eat fava beans because they're historical; eat them because they have a lovely verdant sweetness that is perfect when cooked in olive oil. Or eat them because they are rich in vitamins and minerals. Some researchers think they may even be used as a natural alternative to Viagra. They're not sounding so bad now, are they?

So Why Use Fava's in Ravioli?

My love for fava beans made them a natural choice for a ravioli filling recently, although I didn't realize this when I was planning the menu. I was hosting a pasta party for some friends, which included two people who do not eat meat. I knew I wanted to make ravioli, but because my stock ravioli filling of late has been a short rib ragu, I had to think outside the box. So as I walked the aisles at Berkeley Bowl, I surveyed the piles of fresh vegetables around me seeking ravioli-filling inspiration. And then it hit me, right in the bean aisle. Raviolis made with my favorite seasonal bean pureed with cream and cheese. What could be nicer for a June pasta dinner eaten on the patio with friends?

The raviolis were a hit. The beans pureed texture held up nicely in the ravioli and the addition of cream, ricotta and Parmesan aligned nicely with the fresh pasta dough. Even the meat eaters -- two of whom were avowed fava-bean haters -- said they loved the dish. I decided to believe them as one is a good friend who has a tendency to be brutally honest in a very kind way, so I know she would tell me if she hated my ravioli; and the other is a lovely man who is far too polite to announce his displeasure with a meal, but is sincere enough to just leave whatever he doesn't like on his dish -- and he had seconds.

So if you're looking to delight your friends and family with a seasonal alternative to meat ravioli filling -- one that also includes an interesting history plus may additionally rev up your love life -- look no further than favas. Just please don't eat them with liver.

Note: If you're not up for making raviolis, you can also use this filling as a creamy sauce for regular pasta.

Pureed Fava Bean Ravioli
Makes: Enough for 4-6 people

Ingredients:

2 cups shelled fava beans (just fill up a produce plastic bag with them and you'll have enough)
1/4 cup chopped shallots
1 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup ricotta cheese
1/4 - 1/3 cup Parmesan cheese (according to taste)
2 Tbsp whole milk
1 Tbsp chopped basil or mint (optional)
1 batch of homemade pasta dough

Preparation:

1. Prepare pasta dough and refrigerate until ready for use.

2. Shell fava beans from pods. Bring a medium pot of water to a boil and then drop the beans in. Simmer for 2 minutes and then remove the beans from the pot and rinse with cold water.

3. Gently remove the outer bean casing from the tender inner bean. I usually just separate one side a bit and then gently squeeze the bean into a bowl. Do this for all the beans.

4. In a medium pan, sauté the chopped shallots in the olive oil for about 2 minutes on medium heat. Add in the fava beans and 2 Tbsp butter and cook until the beans are cooked through. Add in salt to taste.

5. Let beans and shallots cool and then pour them in a chopper along with your heavy cream, milk, ricotta, and some freshly ground black pepper. Puree until smooth.

6. If the puree seems too chunky or thick, add more heavy cream or milk as needed. Add in the Parmesan Cheese and any herbs you're using and then puree further until the mixture is completely smooth has the consistency of thick batter. Taste and add more salt and pepper as needed.

7. Roll out your pasta dough so you have long strips 4 inches wide. Spoon about 1 Tbsp puree 1 1/2 inches apart.

8. Brush egg wash on each side and in the strips between the puree and then place a 2nd pasta dough strip on top. Press down on each side in between raviolis so the pasta dough adheres along all sides of the filling and then cut out your raviolis. I like to use a pizza cutter to do this, but if you have a fancy ravioli cutter, go for it.

9. Boil pasta in salted water for about 3 minutes (or until raviolis are cooked) and then gently remove them from the pot and set in a serving dish.

10. Brown the remaining butter (around 2/3 of a stick) in a sauce pan and then pour on top of the cooked raviolis. Sprinkle on some Parmesan or other good hard Italian cheese and serve. I served my ravioli with roasted baby summer squash, but roasted shitakes or morels would also be great. You can also serve the raviolis on their own.

Lots of things can go wrong in the kitchen. Anyone who has spent any time cooking has burnt a finger, added too much salt to the sauce, or maybe even dropped an entire pan of food on the floor. Accidents are common and unavoidable and even those competitive souls on Top Chef can completely blow it every once in a while (which really helps ratings). Yet errors can also be illuminating. A few years ago when I added too much salt to a tomato pasta sauce I threw in some leftover mashed potatoes to help soak up the salt. Normally I would never (ever) add mashed potatoes to a pasta sauce, but was desperate. So I was surprised to find that those potatoes gave the dish a uniquely creamy and lustrous texture. It was an enlightening moment.

I was confronted with a similar situation last Saturday. My friend Christina decided it would be fun to have a ravioli-making party with the Italian ladies in her life. What a great idea. So on Saturday morning at 10:00 a.m., Christina, her friend Laura and I congregated in Christina's kitchen to make homemade pasta dough. After comparing methods, we set to work using Laura's grandmother's tried and true pasta recipe (use one egg per person plus a half egg shell of water for each two people and then add semolina and flour "l'occhio" (by eye) -- brilliant!). Laura had also brought over her Kitchen Aid pasta-making attachment, which had Christina and me oohing and aahing as those strips of pasta beautifully rolled through the press, perfect every time.

Once all the dough was made and laid out on the counter, one of us looked at the clock to discover it was noon. Laura had to take her two-year old home for a nap, Christina had to take her son to a friend's house, and I had to dash off to my daughters' soccer game nearby. After a few kisses on the cheeks and promises to be back by four, we all rushed out the door -- our morning's labor deserted.

After a few hours, we met up again to fill those raviolis, but were horrified to find none of us had actually covered the pasta -- which was still sitting on the counter, most of it dry as crackers and not fit to shape around a filling to make raviolis. After staring in horror at the pasta, we laughed at our mistake. I mean, honestly, what else could we do? Thankfully Christina's husband Marhsall is handy with a shaker and he made us some Manhattans to ease the pain while we put our heads together to find a solution.

Although some of the dough was still pliable enough to make raviolis, most wouldn't make the cut. We quickly used the most supple pasta pieces to make a butternut squash ravioli, but it seemed obvious we would need to abandon our meat ravioli plans as we quickly ran out of dough that could be shaped. The most logical and natural answer was to just make lasagna out of the dry pieces.

Now the three of us are all from Neapolitan or Sicilian families, so are used to preparing lasagna with fresh ricotta cheese and mozzarella (two ingredients we did not have on hand). The situation, however, demanded that we abandon those traditions. So instead of creating the usual cheesy lasagna, we decided to make the most of the perfectly seasoned and slow-roasted short rib ragù Christina had cooked and then pureed the night before as a ravioli filling, along with the light marinara sauce Laura had made earlier that day. We also chose to make a béchamel sauce to round out the flavors and finally added some aged Parmesan cheese. That’s it.

So there we were, making béchamel, lining the dish with sauce and dried pasta, grating cheese, and drinking Manhattans. The lasagna went into the oven and we all sighed, wishing those ingredients had become raviolis instead. When the lasagna came out of the oven a while later, we set the table for the feast and then sat down with the other diners, laughing again about our pasta dough disaster.

But once we started cutting into the lasagna we knew something wonderful had happened in the kitchen that day. We had thought the butternut squash raviolis in a brown butter sauce with fresh sage would be the highlight of the meal, and although they were lovely, they were no match for the cobbled together and impromptu lasagna. Those once-dried noodles, ragù, marinara sauce and béchamel had melded themselves perfectly together. The raviolis were ignored as each person first smelled and then tasted the lasagna. Very few words were spoken -- mostly "Wow!" and "Oh!" interspersed with the noise of forks touching plates. Finally one of the husbands said "Boy I'm glad you guys messed up the ravioli dough." And so was I.

Never in my life had I experienced such perfect lasagna. The once-forgotten dough that had languished on the counter all day was transformed into a thing of beauty when combined with the meat filling and sauces. And that ragù! If we had used ricotta and mozzarella with it, the cheeses would have blanketed our taste buds with their creamy flavors and textures. Without them, the ragù was the diva of the dish -- capturing our attention and mesmerizing us.

So remember that although some kitchen disasters lead to burned fingers, others lead to superlative lasagna.

Superlative Lasagna

Makes: One 9x13 pan

Ingredients:
Homemade pasta dough rolled out into sheets
Christina’s Short Rib Ragù (recipe below)
Béchamel sauce (recipe below)
Marinara sauce (here is Mario Batali's Marinara recipe if you don't have a favorite of your own)
Parmesan cheese (enough to thinly coat each layer of the lasagna, about 1 cup)

Preparation:
1. Make and short ribs and marinara sauce ahead of time and then refrigerate. You can do this the morning you'll make the lasagna or the day before.

2. Make the pasta dough. You can make it a couple of hours ahead of time, but should cover it with waxed paper or dish towels to avoid curling.

3. When ready to assemble the lasagna, make the béchamel sauce.

4. In a large 9 x 13 pan, assemble your lasagna by lightly layering the bottom of the pan with marinara sauce, followed by a layer each of pasta, ragù, béchamel sauce and grated Parmesan cheese.

5. Continue layering until you are out of ingredients, being sure to leave enough marinara sauce to coat the top of the lasagna. Sprinkle on a final coating of Parmesan cheese.

6. Bake in a preheated 350 degree oven for 30-40 minutes or until cooked through.

7. Serve.

Béchamel Sauce

Makes: 1 1/2 cups

Ingredients:
1 stick unsalted butter
3/4 cup all purpose flour (or enough to create a thick roux with the flour)
3 cups whole milk
Salt, pepper and nutmeg to taste

Preparation:
1. In a medium sauce pan, melt the butter on medium low heat.

2. Once the butter is melted, slowly whisk in the flour until the sauce has a smooth consistency.

3. Slowly add in the milk, whisking to avoid lumps.

4. Simmer sauce for a few minutes and season with salt, pepper and nutmeg to taste (I only use a sprinkling of nutmeg, but you can add more of you like a heartier nutmeg flavor).

Christina’s Short Rib Ragù

Adapted from: Faux Babbo Ravioli recipe; Originally published with THE CHEAT; So You Still Can't Get a Reservation at Babbo? By Sam Sifton, May 8, 2005

Makes: Enough ragù for one lasagna

Ingredients:

2 lbs short ribs
3 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 large onion chopped
2 celery stalks chopped
2 carrots chopped
2 1/2 cup red wine
1 cup tomatoes diced drained
2 Tbsp chopped fresh rosemary or oregano

Preparation:

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

2. Heat a large ovenproof skillet (such as a cast-iron pan) on medium-high heat.

3. Add the oil and then mix in the chopped onion, celery and carrots and sauté for five minutes.

4. Remove the vegetables and turn the heat up to medium-high heat. Brown the short ribs (being sure not to crowd the pan.

5. Remove the meat and deglaze the pan with the wine; add in the tomatoes and herbs as well as salt and pepper to taste.

6. Add in the meat and vegetables and then bring mixture to a boil.

7. Set the pan in the oven and bake for 2 hours or until the short ribs are falling apart.

8. Let mixture cool and then refrigerate overnight or at least two hours. Puree or chop until mixture is fairly smooth.