For the pasta:
Upon a wooden pastry board, gently pour the flour and shape it into a majestic well. Introduce the eggs, a trickle of oil, a pinch of salt, and, if the dough demands, a mere droplet of water. Knead with devotion, then let the dough rest, draped in quietude, for some thirty minutes—just enough time to compose the filling.

For the filling:
In a vessel, place the bread gently scalded with milk, add the vibrant spinach, and blend until a harmonious union is achieved. Incorporate the remaining ingredients—bearing in mind that the freshly grated Grana Padano is of paramount importance—and stir once more until the filling becomes firm, yet remains sumptuously creamy.

For the tortelli:
Roll the pasta sheet into a gossamer thinness and, with the guidance of a knife, fashion small squares measuring three to four centimeters on each side. Gather a portion of the filling with a soup spoon and, using the handle of a teaspoon, delicately place a small mound of filling diagonally upon each square of pasta. Rest a square of dough upon the tips of your fingers, and with index and thumb, gracefully pleat the edges, overlapping them from one corner to the opposite to sculpt the tortello. The movement must flow, natural and swift.

For cooking and presentation:
Gently cook the tortelli in a cauldron of boiling, salted water, then dress them in the golden embrace of clarified butter. A whisper of counsel: serve them without sage, allowing the pure voice of each ingredient to be savored to the fullest.