Italian cooking is more than just pasta, but let’s get real here. Pasta is the best part of it. You can argue with me all day about pizza or any various meats or desserts, and I’ll concede to you in the moment. I don’t want to argue with people over what food they prefer, because that’s bush league behavior. You wanna come at me about cruelty food like ortolan bunting1 or foie gras? I’ll throw down. You wanna argue the ethics of factory farming, migrant labor, and other black-and-white moral issues? Be my guest. But I am not going to tell you what you like is wrong or bad because even if you hated something I liked? That’s more for me. But I’m getting off task here.
The point is, pasta is the ultimate canvas because you can pretty much do anything with it. One just needs the pasta itself, which can come in a vast array of shapes and can even be stuffed with meal-enhancing fillings, and a sauce, which can be as simple as aglio e olio or as complex as puttanesca con tonnato. Sure, Italy has a ton of classic set recipe sauces that certain regions pride themselves on. The list is long and deep, but it’s not infinite. As long as there are ingredients that meld well with classic Italian staples like hard cheeses, basil, tomatoes, pork, shellfish, and onion2, there will be infinite numbers of sauces and thus sauce/pasta combinations to explore.
It should follow that riffing with Italian cuisine is essential. You can make the best marinara sauce, and having that in your arsenal is the basis. But knowing techniques and trying some easy deviations can lead to satisfying results. Take for example my dinner this past Tuesday night. I had some Italian sausage in the freezer, hot of course. It’s my favorite kind of sausage. The fennel seed fragrantly punctuates the entire link, and the heat is a subtle but healthy burn. Meat sauces are common in Italy, so I figured I would first render down the sausage, three links worth, casing removed, to get it browned and to get that precious pork fat out of there.
The next step to building the sauce was to use aromatics. My choice here was a combination of shallot and garlic. I diced the shallot thinly. If you are cutting shallots, make sure your knife is sharp! If an onion is a regular incendiary, shallots are mustard gas. I have never felt pain like I have cutting a shallot without sharpening my knife first. The garlic, I grated finely. First, I threw the shallots in and let them soften. When you grate garlic that finely, you can’t throw it in with the onion or shallot because it will cook too quick and burn. If you want to have garlic and onion/shallot at the same time, you need to take time to cut the garlic like an onion. While that method provides more garlic flavor in any dish, it’s also more time consuming, and I wanted the fresh smash up front so yeah. Shallots first, then I let the garlic go in for the quick saute until it got fragrant. Few things in this world are more heavenly than the scent that garlic sauteeing in fat produces.
After that, I added a can of tomato paste and mixed that around the meat and aromatics until it got soft. I wanted concentrated tomato flavor along with the punch of what the other things would bring to the table. I wanted a bold sauce. Crushed tomatoes would not do. After the mixture got nice and pliable, I deglazed with white wine and then let it reduce for a little bit before adding my secret weapon.
Well, to be fair, reserved pasta water is not my secret weapon. Using the salty3, starchy boil has been the duct tape of Italian cooks, from fine dining chefs into the rustic kitchens staffed by the family’s nonna, for centuries. Once the spaghetti was close to al dente, I removed it from the pot I used to boil it (oh yeah, forgot to mention, I started the process on cooking the pasta concurrently with starting to brown the sausage, but that should be common sense!), added it to the pan with the sauce, and then it was time to get the sauce to where I needed it. Three or four ladles of the water later (I didn’t keep track - neither should you), and it got to the point where I could finish it with half-and-half and pecorino romano cheese.
The finished product was meaty and unctuous and creamy and everything a good pasta dish should be. It was reminiscent of pastas I’ve had before, but it wasn’t quite the same. One does not have to reinvent the wheel to make a fresh and exciting pasta experience. Subtle shifts and use of technique can be enough. All in all, it’s a dish I would, and will, make again, maybe the next time for someone I truly love and want to share my passion for pasta with.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ortolan_bunting
Did you know that garlic isn’t as common in Italy as it is among Italian-American immigrants? It’s true, although the influence of the community in America reverse-influenced culinary trends back in the homeland.
if it’s not salty, you fucked up. ALWAYS SALT YOUR PASTA WATER.