（To knead the dough by hand, mix the flour and salt together on a clean, dry work surface or pastry board. Form the dry ingredients into a mound and then make a well in the center. Break the eggs into the center of the well and beat them lightly with a fork. Stir in 3 tablespoons of the water. Use the fork to gradually incorporate some of the dry ingredients into the egg mixture. Continue mixing the dry ingredients into the eggs, adding the remaining water 1 tablespoon at a time. Knead the dough with your hands to make a well-mixed, smooth, dry dough. If the dough becomes too sticky, add more flour. Set aside to rest for 5 minutes.）
Flatten the dough out on a lightly floured work surface. Dust the top of the dough with flour and roll it out, dusting with flour and flipping the dough over from time to time to keep it from sticking to the work surface, until it is about 1?16 inch thick and the desired diameter.
Prepare the pan: Grease the timpano baking pan （a round enamel basin or casserole dish） very generously with butter and olive oil so that it is well lubricated. Fold the dough in half and then in half again to form a triangle and place it in the pan. Unfold the dough and arrange it in the pan, gently pressing it against the bottom and the side and draping the extra dough over the side. Set aside.
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Make the filling: Toss the drained pasta with the olive oil and allow it to cool slightly before tossing with 2 cups of the ragù. Distribute 4 generous cups of the pasta over the dough on the bottom of the timpano. Top with 1 cup of the salami, 1 cup of the provolone, 3 of the hard-boiled eggs, 1 cup of the meatballs, and ? cup of the Romano cheese. Pour 2 cups of the ragù over these ingredients. Repeat this process to create additional layers using an equal amount of each ingredient until they have come within 1 inch of the top of the pan, ending with 2 cups of ragù.
Pour the beaten eggs over the filling. Fold the dough over the filling to seal completely. Trim away and discard any overlapping dough. Make sure that the timpano is tightly sealed. If you notice any small openings, cut a piece of the trimmed dough to fit over the opening, using a small amount of water to moisten the scraps to ensure a tight seal has been made.
Bake until lightly browned, about 1 hour. Then cover with aluminum foil and continue baking until the dough is golden brown and the timpano is cooked through （and reaches an internal temperature of 120°F）， about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow to rest for 30 minutes to cool and contract before attempting to remove from the pan. （The baked timpano should not adhere to the pan. To test, gently shake the pan to the left and then to the right. It should spin slightly in the pan. If any part is still attached, carefully detach with a knife.）
To remove the timpano from the pan, place a baking sheet or thin cutting board that’s large enough to cover the entire diameter of the pan on top of the timpano. Grasp the baking sheet or cutting board and the rim of the timpano pan firmly and invert the timpano. Remove the pan and allow the timpano to cool for 30 minutes more.
Using a long, sharp knife, cut a circle approximately 3 inches in diameter in the center of the timpano, making sure to cut all the way through to the bottom. Then slice the timpano into individual portions as you would a pie, leaving the center circle as a support for the remaining pieces. The cut pieces should hold together, revealing the built-up layers of great stuff.
It is the inconstant cooking and resting times required of each individual timpano made any given year that became the bane of Christmas Day. It is a temperamental dish to say the least. It might take an hour or two to cook, then need to rest for an hour, or vice versa. It depends on the oven, the vessel it’s cooked in, if the sauce it is made with is a little more watery than usual, if the timpano has been previously frozen, etc., etc. That’s all fine, if it is the only thing you are serving. But timpano was served as a first course. Therefore it was impossible to time the second course, like a leg of lamb or even a simple ham. People often wonder why, if there is such a huge first course, there is even a need for a second course at all. I have no answer for them. All I know is that it is traditional. It is very rare that one eats in an Italian home and both a primo and a secondo are not served on any given day. I remember the first time my brother-in-law John came to visit us in Westchester, my parents were over and my mother had cooked. She served the Tucci family ragù with pasta, followed by the ragù meat and meatballs. Obviously finding it delicious, John kept going back for more. After a while, bowls and plates were cleared and new plates laid, at which point my mother brought a roast chicken, potatoes, two different vegetables, and a salad to the table. I noticed that John was suddenly a bit rattled. Confounded by what was basically another entire meal being placed before him, he politely asked, “Wow, wait, what’s all this?”