Apparently Tartar in origin, the two recipes with which I am familiar (Dr. de Pomiane and Ali Bab) are quite different, but the fundamental characteristics are the same. Both use crumbled or powdered dried marjoram (as will you if you have no fresh . . .) in staggering quantity.

Koldouny should be served instantly and directly from the vessel in which it is cooked, nakedly ungarnished (the flavor should all be on the inside—an addition of butter or cheese would only confuse the effect) onto well-heated plates, and it should be eaten with spoons. Knives and forks should be kept out of the reach of the guests for, in Ali Bab’s quaint words, the koldouny’s basic quality (an astonishing explosion of imprisoned perfume in one’s mouth) would be lost “were one to wound it by using a fork” (the surprise and the pleasure are renewed each time one is bitten into—and the temptation to continue eating them forever is sore). If serving as a main course, it is well to cook them in two batches to make sure they are hot at the moment they’re served.

You will need a large marrow bone—ask the butcher to crack it open for you or to saw it into short lengths. Take care that no fragments of splintered bone remain clinging to the marrow.

The following proportions will produce 75 to 80 raviolis.