Praise For Plain Pasta

 

Don't Overlook the Simple Pleasures

Mmmm, pasta. You ought to see my pantry. You'd swear I had stock in DeCecco and Barilla. I love pasta. And that love affair goes way back.

The very first pasta I remember eating was “wagon wheel” pasta made by La Rosa. I was four or five years old and my mother cooked it up and sauced it with nothing but butter and I was the happiest kid in the world. Fast forward several – ahem – decades, and if you still want to make me the happiest kid in the world, put a plate of plain buttered pasta in front of me. Works every time.

That's because plain pasta with butter and maybe a little Parmesan cheese is the most basic Italian comfort food. In Italy, it's called pasta al burro or sometimes pasta bianca. One of the most popular forms of the dish, pastina, has been in the news a lot lately because Ronzoni, one of the biggest manufacturers of pastina pasta in the US, stopped making the classic little star-shaped noodles back in February, causing widespread panic buying and hoarding. Sure, other companies produce it; Barilla markets it as both Pastina and Stelline. But Ronzoni had by far the biggest grocery store shelf presence for its pastina product and long-time customers were understandably miffed by its sudden absence. I mean, pastina is like the next step up from mother's milk for most Italian children. A little plain pasta, some butter, some cheese, and usually an egg. Okay, so my mom was weird starting me off on buttered rotelle. Must come from the French part of the family, I don't know.

I do know that when my own youngest son reached that pasta devouring age, it had to be plain pasta with butter. Never mind that most kiddie menus served up some form of spaghetti in tomato sauce. No, no! None of that for il mio bambino. If the pasta had even a trace of anything but plain butter on it, all bets were off. I recall a certain Old Spaghetti Factory in Atlanta that once dared to put brown butter on my kid's pasta. Wow! The way the acoustics in that place echoed, it was not a pleasant experience for anybody. Later on, six years of living in Italy expanded his palate quite a bit. But, like me, he still appreciates a good dish of plain pasta with butter and cheese.

Did you know that pasta al burro is the basis for fettuccine Alfredo? When you go to Italy, unless you're going to one of the tourist traps in Rome, don't bother ordering fettuccine Alfredo. They'll look at you like you've got a third eye. Instead, ask for pasta al burro or pasta bianca. They may still give you funny looks because that's a dish commonly served to children and folks with tummy troubles, but at least they'll know what you're talking about.

See, about a hundred years ago, a Roman restaurateur named Alfredo di Lelio had a very pregnant, very sick wife who could keep very little on her stomach. About all she could tolerate was Alfredo's pasta al burro, which he made with egregious amounts of butter and cheese for extra flavor. A couple of Hollywood luminaries, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr and Mary Pickford, were honeymooning in Rome and wandered into Alfredo's eatery. They inquired about the dish his wife was enjoying. Alfredo probably thought, “Boh. Americani pazzi.” But he dutifully served them some plain pasta with butter and cheese. And they LOVED it! They loved it so much that they went back to Hollywood and told everybody they knew – and they knew a lot of people – about the wonderful Italian dish they had in Rome. Fettuccine Alfredo, they called it, and thus was a culinary legend born.

Of course, American chefs didn't have access to the same quality ingredients Alfredo used in his restaurant, so they wound up bastardizing his simple creation, adulterating it with milk and cream and all kinds of extraneous additives to achieve what they thought was a close approximation. Sorry. No. Not even close. Nothing beats the silky, buttery unctuousness of the sauce that naturally forms when you briskly stir together plain hot pasta, high-fat butter, real Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, and just a tiny bit of the water in which the pasta was cooked. Buonissimo! And far superior to anything you'll find in a jar.

There are another couple of variations on plain pasta. Pasta cacio e pepe is one. Plain pasta, some butter, some Parmigiano and pecorino cheeses, and a good dose of some freshly-ground black pepper. That's all you need in life, you know?

Unless you want to use olive oil instead of butter and throw in some garlic. Then you've got pasta aglio e olio. Another mouth watering dish that's just super simple.

If you want a different flavor profile, you might try pasta al limone. Same basic ingredients – pasta and butter with some lemon juice and lemon zest.

I suppose carbonara could be a “plain” pasta dish. I mean, it's pasta, butter and cheese with bacon and eggs mixed in, but with all the egg tempering and such, it's just too fussy when you're craving something quick and simple.

When I'm just too tired or too uninspired to prepare something complicated, I boil some water, SALT IT, add some pasta, cook until al dente, then ladle it into a pasta bowl, mix in some good quality butter – something like Kerrygold – and season it to taste. Then I kick back and enjoy it while watching TV or reading a book.

As to what kind of pasta? It doesn't really matter. Smaller shapes work best. Something rigate with a little texture to it is even better. Plain old spaghetti or linguine are fine, too. Tube-shaped pastas don't hold light sauces real well. Except ditalini. That one's small and it works okay in this application. Broad noodles like tagliatelle or pappardelle aren't really agreeable with buttery sauces, either. Doesn't mean you can't use them. Just keep extra napkins on hand if you do. I like farfalle or farfalline (aka “bowtie” pasta.) And, of course. I never turn down a bowlful of good ol' buttered wheels.

Rich, exotic, fragrant sauces are beautiful. I swoon over a good marinara or a flavorful amatriciana. A spicy arrabiata is a wonderful thing. And, of course, Bolognese is the gold standard of pasta sauces. But in the rush toward those long-cooking, preparation-heavy concoctions, don't overlook the simple pleasures to be found in a little plain pasta, some butter and some cheese.