Linguine

My take on linguine vongole includes a lot of vegetables for an added freshness. I also use clam juice, as well as the traditional wine, for a more complex sauce.

When our wine-club members receive their wine shipment, we include a recipe that we enjoy with the featured bottle. Cakebread resident chef Tom Sixsmith devised this pasta preparation to accompany the Chardonnay Reserve, but you may find that you want to make the dish weekly in asparagus season. The nutty whole-wheat pasta and smoky bacon help combat the notion that asparagus doesn’t go with wine.

Cauliflower topped with brown butter and bread crumbs is a classic French dish; here the same components (plus sage, often used to flavor brown butter) combine to produce a delicious pasta sauce.

The delicious sauce on this pasta doesn’t require cooking—just a few seconds in the food processor. For the very best flavor, don’t skip the step of toasting the walnuts.

WHY IT’S LIGHT Cut strips of sliced cabbage to resemble long, thin noodles and you can reduce the amount of real noodles by half. Cooked briefly, the cabbage wilts slightly but retains some of its characteristic crunch. Linguine stands in for the usual wheat-flour noodles (called lo mein) in this version of the Chinese take-out favorite, but you can use Asian noodles if you have them.

When using smaller clams such as Manila and littleneck, make this pasta with the clams in their shells. When using larger clams, cook them first, remove from their shells, and chop, returning them to the pot with the tasty clam liquor.

This pasta works well with little clams in their shells or with large clams steamed open, removed from their shells, and chopped.

There is an important and splendid group of pasta recipes that is associated with Rome and the area around it; all the variations begin with bits of cured meat cooked until crisp. Around these delightfully crispy bits—and, of course, their rendered fat—are built a number of different sauces of increasing complexity. The first contains no more than meat and grated cheese and is called pasta alla gricia; the second, in which eggs are added, is the well-known pasta (usually spaghetti) carbonara, one of the first authentic non-tomato sauces to become popular in the United States, about thirty years ago; and the third is pasta all’Amatriciana, which adds the sweetness of cooked onion and the acidity of tomato.

Few things are simpler than a quick tomato sauce over pasta, but as an unending diet it can become somewhat tiresome. Here it’s completely jazzed by the addition of a hefty amount of garlic and a few anchovies. The transformation is as easy as it is remarkable. Canned anchovies—packed in olive oil—are the easiest to use here. Salted anchovies, if you have them, are fine also, but you must mince them first (after cleaning them, of course, which you do under running water, stripping the meat from the skeleton).

All winter i dream of the time when there are so many fresh herbs that it seems imperative to use them at almost every meal. One of my favorite ways to take advantage of this abundance is to mix large quantities of herbs with pasta and a simple base of olive oil and garlic. In winter, a dish like this would not only seem exotic but would also cost a small fortune. In summer, however, it is an inexpensive no-brainer.

Pesto has become a staple, especially in late summer when basil is best. But pasta with pesto does have its limits; it’s simply not substantial enough to serve as a main course. The Genoese, originators of pesto, figured this out centuries ago, when they created this dish, which augments the pesto with chunks of potatoes and chopped green beans, making it a more complex, more filling, and more interesting dish. Recreating this classic dish is straightforward and easy. Note that if you start the potatoes and pasta simultaneously, then add the green beans about halfway through cooking, they will all be finished at the same time and can be drained and tossed with the sauce in a snap. This technique may sound imprecise, but it works.

The dish has a thick creaminess that you can never duplicate with canned tomatoes, no matter how good they are. So the season when you can make it—when there are good, ripe tomatoes in the market—is fairly short; where I live, just two or at the most three months a year. There is an ideal instant for serving this sauce: When the tomatoes soften and all of their juices are in the skillet, the sauce suddenly begins to thicken. At that moment, it is at its peak; another minute or two later, many of the juices will have evaporated and, although the essence of the sauce is equally intense, it won’t coat the pasta as well. If this happens, just add a little fresh olive oil or butter to the finished dish.

It is pasta’s nature to be simple. I’ve long made a vegetable sauce by poaching greens such as spinach in the pasta water, then removing them and adding the pasta, a neat trick. But my friend Jack Bishop, author of Vegetarian Italian Cooking, mentioned that he’d gone one step further, cooking the greens right in with the pasta and adding seasonings at the last minute. The method relies on the fact that there is a period of two or three minutes between the moment when the pasta’s last traces of chalkiness disappear and the point where it begins to become mushy. If, just before the pasta is done, you add the greens, whose tough stems have been removed, greens and pasta will finish cooking at the same time. When making this dish and others like it, you must adhere to the often ignored canon of allowing at least a gallon of water per pound of pasta, because you need a pot large enough to accommodate the greens and because they cannot be allowed to slow down the cooking too much

A quick way to add great flavor to many simple dinner dishes is already sitting in your pantry or cupboard: anchovies. Anchovies are among the original convenience foods and contribute an intense shot of complex brininess that is more like Parmigiano-Reggiano than like canned tuna. Use them, along with garlic, as the base for a bold tomato sauce or combine them, as I do here, with greens, garlic, oil, and chiles for a white sauce that packs a punch.

Since olive oil is the backbone of this dish, use the best you can lay your hands on and be sure to keep the heat under the oil medium-low, because you want to avoid browning the garlic at all costs. (Well, not at all costs. If you brown the garlic, you’ll have a different, more strongly flavored kind of dish, but one that is still worth eating.) Garnish with a good handful of chopped parsley. For thirty seconds’ work, this makes an almost unbelievable difference.

A pasta dish kids love and one that became traditional with mine whenever we left them with a sitter for the evening. It’s best if the ham is prosciutto, the cream thick and fresh, and the peas just shelled, but it’s pretty good with supermarket ham and cream and frozen peas, and I’ve made it that way plenty of times. For variety, add about a cup of sliced button mushrooms to the ham mixture.

Cabbage, when it begins to break down, becomes quite creamy, and that’s what makes this dish somewhat unusual. This will be stronger tasting if you use plenty of black and red pepper, olive oil, and pecorino or quite mild if you start with butter, reducing the black pepper, eliminating the red, and finishing with pecorino. You can also make it far more substantial; see the variation.

True pansotti are stuffed, with a mixture like this, but I rarely feel like filling pasta, and this way it makes a very fast meal and tastes just as good (it tastes even better with fresh pasta, page 541). Like Tarator or Skordalia (page 600), a terrific use of nuts as sauce.

Another classic, this one Roman, that simply cannot be omitted; to do so would be a huge disservice to beginners. This is a great snack, late-night meal, or starter. For variety, toss in a couple of tablespoons of toasted fresh bread crumbs (page 580) or start with a few anchovy fillets along with the garlic and chile.

I featured this little group of recipes in my New York Times column and in The Minimalist Cooks Dinner, but it’s so instructive, important, and wonderful that I felt it belonged here as well. All (well, almost all) the variations begin with bits of cured meat cooked until crisp, around which are built a number of different sauces of increasing complexity. Most people insist that the “genuine” meat for these recipes is pancetta—salted, cured, and rolled pork belly. Pancetta is available at almost any decent Italian deli and at many specialty stores, but you can use bacon (or even better, if you can find it, guanciale, which is cured pig’s jowl; see the back of the book for mail-order sources). Pecorino Romano is the cheese of choice here, but Parmesan is also good.

Chicken Tetrazzini is an American creation. The one thing we know about it for sure is that it was named after the famed Italian soprano Luisa Tetrazzini, also known as the Florentine Nightingale. She was a favorite with the San Francisco Opera audiences, and it is said that the dish was invented there, but there are some conflicting claims that the dish was created in New York, at the then Knickerbocker Hotel, where most of the Metropolitan Opera stars stayed in the early 1900s. Another confusion about Tetrazzini is whether chicken, turkey, or salmon should be used in the recipe. As far as I am concerned, any or all of these options can make a good Tetrazzini.

There was a time when calamari was not much consumed in America and it was considered a cheap fish. But Italians love calamari, and it became the fish of choice of the Italian immigrants. You can find calamari today as a delicacy in contemporary restaurants of every ethnicity. Spicy calamari with linguine is a trademark of Italian American restaurants all over America.

This is the quintessential Italian pasta dish, especially in Naples and Rome. The ingredients are three; the clams are the smaller ones—vongole veraci—and they are always cooked in their shells. Once they open, the sauce is done. Here in the States, linguine with clam sauce is made with chopped clams, and I guess this adjustment makes sense, especially since the clams here can be quite large, from littlenecks (small to medium) to topnecks (large) to quahogs or chowder clams (very large). Today, though, one is ever more likely to find smaller cockles on the market; if you find them, by all means use them.