Since this was the first sauce I'd made in years, I decided to avoid cookbooks (for the first week, at least). I have a few really wonderful cookbooks that have great explanations, but asking my mom for one of her own meant I could pester her with dozens of questions about minor details, if I needed to. I wanted a good tomato sauce for pasta, but it wasn't until we got started talking about the variety of sauce recipes at our disposal that I
realized how long it's been since I have had a good puttanesca. This is a rich, bold sauce (spicy, tangy and a bit salty), but it somehow manages not to overwhelm - something that always impresses me about Southern Italian cooking. Puttanesca also has another name: "whore's pasta," which appears to have originated in Naples. I think that might actually be a translation, not a nickname... Anyway, a lot of the food I had while in Genoa was very traditional, even old-world (for example, farinata: a chick pea pancake that I believe our friend Carlo said soldiers once cooked on their shields). But puttanesca appears to have been invented some time between the mid 1950s and early 1960s. With all of these random thoughts and lovely memories of the Italian market we went to at the Porto Antico in my head, I began.
The pinch bowls here show everything you need to make a good puttanesca: garlic, anchovy paste, capers, olives, canned whole tomatoes, olive oil and some basil (which is optional).
The pinch bowls here show everything you need to make a good puttanesca: garlic, anchovy paste, capers, olives, canned whole tomatoes, olive oil and some basil (which is optional).
First, I sauteed the garlic, adding the anchovy paste before the garlic had a chance to brown. Then I added the canned whole tomatoes (the whole can) one at a time by squeezing them through my fingers into the pan.
NOTE: There is too much oil in that pan and the heat is way too high. Olive oil/tomato juice backsplash burns like a mother*.
All that needed to simmer for 15 minutes, with occasional stirring. It gets nice and thick at this point - and there's more to follow!
Next I added the olives and capers...a note here, you can add as much of both of these ingredients as you damn well please...and let that simmer for the last five minutes (although I believe I only needed two minutes).
This gave Meg (my dinner guest/guinea pig) time set her face right over the pan and inhale all that goodness.
NOTE: Know your pasta cooking time. I only have one big burner on my range (that's what living in an apartment gets you), so I have to put the water on before I even start the sauce, but most of the time it won't take you more then 8-10 minutes. If you have a gas range, that's probably way too much time, you lucky bastards. If you want to take advantage of every flavor this meal has to offer, learn to cook your pasta "al dente." And remember that pasta is not just a vehicle for sauce, it has its own range of flavors, subtle though they are. Also, most of the Italian cooks I know use dried pasta, so don't feel like you have to go out and buy a fresh pasta maker or attachment for your KitchenAid just to make a great meal.
Finally, I tossed in some fettucine rigate and let the whole mess spend some quality time together in the pan. Most of the people I know put pasta on the plate, then add sauce. It makes me sad in my soul. Those flavors deserve to spend time together before they go in your mouth. Not only that, you deserve it. You deserve the goodness that is a well-married pasta dish. Just make sure your pasta isn't too cooked, because it is going to keep on cookin' while it hangs with the sauce.
NOTE: Per my mother, Italians (at least Northern ones) "dress" the pasta, as opposed to drenching it in sauce. I thought I could never do this, but having changed that habit, I can't imagine eating it any other way.
NOTE: Per my mother, Italians (at least Northern ones) "dress" the pasta, as opposed to drenching it in sauce. I thought I could never do this, but having changed that habit, I can't imagine eating it any other way.
Meg told me that she didn't like hers at all, but it mysteriously vanished before I could get through even half of mine. She lies sometimes, our Meg.
Mom's Puttanesca Sauce (with notes from Turtle)
olive oil
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp anchovy paste
1 lg or 2 sm cans whole tomatoes
a bunch of pitted kalamata olives and/or green olives - whole or sliced
1-2 Tbsp well-rinsed capers (or more if you you like them)
Heat a 12 inch saute pan on medium. When hot, add 2-3 Tbsp of olive oil. Quickly add the garlic and cook until fragant (20-30 seconds), then add anchovy paste and smash around for a minute or two. Make sure the temperature isn't too high. Add the tomatoes by crushing them ,one at a time, in your hand as you add them to the pan (you will not need the leftover juice in the can, squeezing the tomatoes will provide juice enough). Simmer slowly for about 20 minutes. Add the olives/capers, and cook for a few minutes until heated through. The sauce should be thick and chunky. Salt and pepper to taste.
Possible additions:
Toasted pine nuts
Golden raisins soaked in warm water for 15 minutes
Basil chiffonade (put in at the end, just before serving, or it will wilt away the greenness)
olive oil
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp anchovy paste
1 lg or 2 sm cans whole tomatoes
a bunch of pitted kalamata olives and/or green olives - whole or sliced
1-2 Tbsp well-rinsed capers (or more if you you like them)
Heat a 12 inch saute pan on medium. When hot, add 2-3 Tbsp of olive oil. Quickly add the garlic and cook until fragant (20-30 seconds), then add anchovy paste and smash around for a minute or two. Make sure the temperature isn't too high. Add the tomatoes by crushing them ,one at a time, in your hand as you add them to the pan (you will not need the leftover juice in the can, squeezing the tomatoes will provide juice enough). Simmer slowly for about 20 minutes. Add the olives/capers, and cook for a few minutes until heated through. The sauce should be thick and chunky. Salt and pepper to taste.
Possible additions:
Toasted pine nuts
Golden raisins soaked in warm water for 15 minutes
Basil chiffonade (put in at the end, just before serving, or it will wilt away the greenness)
No comments:
Post a Comment