Pasta is my friend. All kinds. All shapes. Even whole wheat. Even gluten free. Any kind of dried noodle is a wonderful thing to discover in my kitchen when I fear, hungry and worried, that the cupboard is bare. I wish for everyone that they should have a package or two of it stored somewhere, and then on a night when there seems to be nothing to eat in the house, ta da! Pasta hacks. And cupboard hacks. Because I always have enough to eat if I have the following things in the larder:
1.)
A packet of pasta (any kind)
Butter or oil
A head of garlic
Salt
Now for a real feast I like to add to that some cupboard staples that are easy and inexpensive to have on hand. Stuff like:
2.)
A can of anchovies
A bottle of olives
A bottle of capers
A can of tuna
A jar of salsa
A can of tomatoes
A bag of dried red chile peppers
With any luck, added to THAT are a few items in my refrigerator and/or freezer:
3.)
A clutch of something or things fresh and green (parsley, cilantro, spinach, arugula, chard, lettuce, scallions, anything along those lines).
A package of something frozen and green (spinach, and frozen peas are my staples—always a pleasure to have on hand, especially when originally bought on sale at the market).
A bit of cheese (any kind, since my tastes in cheese are catholic).
This is my list. When I contemplate it, light dawns that any of these ingredients in lists 2 and 3, added to list 1, make a wonderful meal.
Quick. Delicious. Relatively inexpensive. Three of my favorite things. And, perhaps even more important: using only one pot and one little pan. (Also a colander—I love to have a colander. I do have to admit though, that in a pinch you can do without.)
First, I take my chosen noodles, whatever size or shape. About three ounces is good for each person, though when I’m hungry I can pack away four ounces easy.
(It’s good to have a scale for this, but if I don’t, so what? I just look at the package label. Is it twelve ounces? Then I want a fourth or a third of that for each person, depending on hunger levels. Sixteen ounces? A fifth or a fourth. Easy to measure with my eye. I try to go over rather than under if I do it this way. Leftover pasta is great for my breakfast, especially with a judicious glugging of hot sauce on top.)
I get a big pot full of water and bring to a boil. Add salt. Add pasta, and a glug of oil if I have it. Cook according to the directions on the package, though I always check it two minutes before the package says it should be done just to be on the safe side.
While the pasta is cooking, I can whip up one of any number of sauces, from a very simple one, to one more elaborate. Depending on my preferences that eve, and depending on supplies.
I can, if I want, start with the simplest:
Garlic and butter and/or oil. There are so many variations I can make of just this one. I can mince a garlic clove (hah!). I can chop several garlic cloves. I can crush a head of garlic and leave the skin on. The question is: how much garlic oomph do I want? (I bet you know the answer to this one.)
Raw garlic is obviously more powerful than cooked, so the more in your face garlic flavor I want, the less I want to cook the stuff. Minced garlic is a stronger flavor, cooked quickly till golden, than whole garlic cloves braised for ten minutes in butter and oil. (I can braise whole unpeeled cloves too, and then fish them out once they’ve flavored the oil.) Crushed and peeled garlic is for people who love their garlic and want to eat it whole (me). The only rule here is if I cook the stuff, I don’t want to burn it. There is no known use for burnt garlic.
I take some oil, or some butter. Or even a mix of oil and butter, about two tablespoons total for each person, minimum (adding more if I like, which I usually do). Then in a small pot or skillet, I melt the stuff, add the garlic, sautéing it till golden, finally adding it to a pot of drained noodles. Or if I’m feeling lazy, I can just add the butter and oil and raw garlic to the pot of drained noodles. Now THAT is a vampire-rejecting glory of a dish.
I salt at will.
Most often, though, I want to complicate matters. Take a bit of anything in the second list and think about what would be nice together. Salsa, cold, on top of hot noodles already treated with a little butter/oil and garlic, is actually a pretty good summer dish. Canned tomatoes cooked with the butter/oil and garlic, until thick and dark red, very good any time, but especially in winter. A bit of tuna added at the last minute just to be heated through—nice if I’m feeling like tuna and noodles. I like to cook the pasta, chill it, toss with a little garlic infused olive oil, and then toss with chunked tuna, salt and pepper—another nice summer dish.
Or when I’m cooking the garlic, I add a few red pepper pods and cook until they turn brown. I try not to take deep breaths above the pan for this one. Cough, cough. But divine if you like a spicy sauce (I do).
Or I can go on and add to that any of the third list. Chopped parsley. Chopped cilantro. Minced scallions. A handful of baby spinach cooked at the last minute by the heat of the noodles still in the pot. Sometimes I add frozen peas and cook over low heat until they’re heated through. No need to defrost. I have never defrosted a frozen pea in my life. Not intentionally, anyway.
Then there’s the cheese. I grate it if I’ve got a grater handy. Otherwise, I just slice it and let it melt on top of the hot noodles. Or I chunk it between my fingers and mix into same—a good way to handle goat cheese.
Finally my favorite thing to do with all three, happens to be what I did last night, which inspired this post: linguine with garlic, butter, olive oil, anchovies, capers, crushed red pepper, lots of chopped parsley, and arugula, tossed at the last minute with more fresh arugula.
Like this:
Cook your linguine, in our case, half a pound for two.
While it’s cooking, in a small pan, heat ¼ cup combo of butter and olive oil. At the last moment, when the pasta is almost done, add to this pan a can of minced anchovies and their oil, a crushed red pepper pod, and a couple of tablespoons of chopped capers.
Sauté gently till garlic is golden and anchovies begin to melt into the sauce.
Drain the pasta, leaving some water clinging. Return to the pot. Add the sauce and let the heat of the pan cook it all together. Add a handful of chopped parsley, and a handful of baby arugula.
In a warm bowl, have a few more handfuls of baby arugula waiting.
When the pasta is all heated through, and the sauce has impregnated it with garlic and anchovies, toss in the bowl with the fresh arugula, as if you’re tossing a salad.
Serve it forth, with grated Parmesan atop. More cheese at the table.
Oh yum. Mega yum. And simple. And healthy. I could have done it with one pot, but this way is easy too.
That last little trick, that tossing of the hot pasta with the greens, is one of my favorite hacks. You can use any fresh salad green—you’d be surprised (or maybe you wouldn’t) at what a pleasant surprise even iceberg lettuce is used this way. It soaks up the sauce as if it were a dressing, and the pasta, still hot, is fragrant and satisfying.
So that’s my favorite pasta hack for you. Let me know what yours might be, if you get a chance. I love pasta hacks. Surely I’ve made that plain?
Or sauced, of course. As the case may be.