Let Me Tell You About Ghost Purse Ravioli (Warning: Puns Ahead)

Okay, so the first time I made Ghost Purse Ravioli was actually by accident. Well, not the ravioli part, but the ghost purse part. I was meaning to make regular old ravioli and then, honestly, one of them just sort of flopped over and my daughter said it looked like a little ghost with a purse. Fast forward, it’s now a family Halloween (and honestly, anytime-we-need-a-laugh) favourite. I mean, who says pasta can’t be a little bit silly? And let’s face it, anything that gets kids excited about dinner is already a win in my book. The only downside: flour everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean in my shoes, on the cat – you get the picture.

Why I Think You’ll End Up Loving This Too

I make this when I want to impress, but also when I want something that feels a bit whimsical. My family honestly goes wild for it, especially when we let everyone add their own little face details (olives, peppercorns, whatever’s rolling around the fridge). Sometimes the shapes come out more “squished frog” than ghost purse, but that’s part of the fun, right? Oh, and pro tip: if you’re feeling lazy, store-bought wrappers totally work – I’ve been there more than I care to admit. No judgment.

Here’s What You’ll Need (and a Few What-Ifs)

2 cups all-purpose flour (my grandma swore by King Arthur, but, eh, I just use what’s cheap)
3 large eggs (sometimes I throw in an extra yolk if I’m feeling fancy)
1 cup ricotta cheese (the full-fat stuff is best, but I’ve used cottage cheese in a pinch)
1/2 cup grated parmesan (I’ve swapped this for pecorino when it’s all I had – no one noticed)
Handful chopped spinach, optional (or kale if that’s what’s lurking in the fridge)
Pinch of nutmeg (I forget this half the time, doesn’t seem to matter)
Salt & pepper, to taste
1 egg, whisked, for sealing
For the ‘faces’: black olives, peppercorns, or whatever little bits you want (my son once used a tiny pepper slice as a ghost tongue—hilarious)

Alright, How Do You Make These Little Ghost Purses?

Make the dough. Dump the flour in a pile on a big clean surface, make a well in the middle, and crack in your eggs. Use a fork to sort of swirl them together, then gradually pull in the flour. This part is always messy. Don’t panic if it looks like a floury train wreck; it comes together. Knead for about 10 minutes (or until your arms are tired). Wrap in cling film, let it chill out for half an hour.
Mix the filling. Ricotta, parmesan, spinach, nutmeg, salt, and pepper – just toss them all in a bowl and stir. This is where I usually sneak a taste (just to check the seasoning – not because I’m greedy, obviously).
Roll out the dough. If you’ve got a pasta roller, go for it. Start thick and work your way thinner (I use the second-thinnest setting). No roller? Rolling pin and a bit of elbow grease does the trick. It won’t be perfect—it never is in my kitchen.
Cut and fill. I use a round cutter, but a cup or even a knife is fine. Drop a teaspoon of filling in the center. Dab edges with the whisked egg, then fold the dough up, pinching the top so it looks like a little purse (or, let’s be honest, a tiny hobo sack ghost). Add your “faces” now – poke in olive bits or whatever you fancy.
Cook ‘em. Bring a big pot of salted water to a gentle boil. Pop in the ravioli in batches. They’ll float when they’re done, usually in 3–4 minutes. Don’t crowd the pot—I’ve done this and ended up with a ravioli monster mash.

Things I’ve Learned (Usually the Hard Way)

If your dough is too dry, just add a tiny splash of water. Too wet? More flour. Simple.
Don’t overfill the ravioli (trust me, they burst and then you get ravioli soup, which is… not what you want).
Sometimes the faces melt a bit while boiling. It’s fine—makes them look spookier, or like Picasso ghosts.

Riffs and Experiments (Some Winners, Some Not So Much)

Pumpkin filling: Actually, this is delicious. Sub half the ricotta for roasted pumpkin. If you want to go full autumn, add sage.
Meat version: I tried adding ground pork once… It was fine, but the ghosts looked grumpy. Might just stick to cheese.
Gluten-free attempt: I used a rice flour blend once; honestly, it was a bit like eating chewy clouds. Maybe skip that unless you have to.

Do You Need Fancy Gear? (Nope, But…)

I love my pasta roller, but honestly, an old wine bottle works as a rolling pin if that’s all you’ve got (I’ve done this at a friend’s place and it was a laugh). Ravioli cutters are fun, but a knife or drinking glass is fine in a pinch. If you want to see proper technique, check out this guide on Serious Eats – I learned a ton there.

How to Store Your Ghost Purses (If You Have Leftovers)

Keep them in an airtight container in the fridge – they’ll last 2–3 days, but honestly, in my house they never last more than a day! You can freeze them, but lay them in a single layer first or they’ll stick together like long-lost siblings. I think they actually taste better the next day, but that might just be because the flavors settle more.

How I Serve These (And How My Family Ignores My Suggestions)

I usually serve these with a simple brown butter and crispy sage sauce – it’s easy, and it lets the ghosts shine (pun intended). If it’s Halloween, we sometimes scatter black sesame seeds for “spooky dust”. My husband dunks his in marinara, which, okay, whatever floats your boat. For a fancier vibe, I’ve drizzled a little truffle oil on top (only when I’m trying to impress people who don’t live here).

Lessons Learned (AKA, Pro Tips From Repeat Offenses)

I once tried rushing the dough rest step – huge mistake, it just tore like wet tissue paper. Let it rest. Go scroll cat memes or something.
Use more flour than you think when rolling out. It’ll save you a headache and prevent the dough from sticking everywhere (including your eyebrows, somehow).
Don’t boil too many at once—they like their personal space. Otherwise, you get a ravioli blob situation.

Questions I Get All the Time (Or At Least Twice)

Q: Can I use wonton wrappers if I don’t want to make pasta dough?
A: Oh, absolutely – I do this when I’m feeling lazy. Just don’t boil too long or they’ll get mushy. Actually, sometimes I just steam them; works fine.

Q: My ghosts look more like dumplings than ravioli. Did I mess up?
A: Not at all! That’s part of the charm. They’re ghost purses, not runway models (unless your ghosts are fashionistas, in which case, go wild).

Q: How do you stop them from leaking?
A: Make sure the edges are sealed and don’t overfill. Use your fingers, a fork, whatever – just squish ‘em tight. If one springs a leak, scoop it out and eat it fast, no one will know.

If you’re a visual person, I really like the pasta tutorials on Pasta Grannies on YouTube—they make it look so easy, but don’t judge yourself too harshly. Mine never look like theirs, and that’s okay.

Anyway, that’s my ghost purse ravioli recipe – messy, silly, and always tasty. If you give it a go, let me know how your ghosts turn out (bonus points if you name them). Now, where did I put my rolling pin—or was it the wine bottle?