Pantry Puttanesca
This may not be the purist’s version, but neither are the people who inspired it.
by Erin Henderson
When I was happily betrothed to my ex (this was a while ago), we would often come home from a night out, a little tired, slightly drunk, and very, very hungry.
I took to making this pasta for our midnight meal – it was quick, easy, and could be slapped together with whatever was in the pantry. The maxim “fat and happy” truly defined us for a while. Until it didn’t. But that’s a story for another glass of wine.
While I don’t advise making this a staple of your late-night noshing, it is a terrific pantry dinner that you can get on the table in less than 30 minutes. And it happens to be vegan, if that’s your thing.
Puttanesca has the edgy translation of “whore’s pasta” in English. As one might expect, puttanesca has a salacious history, but like most things acted out in the shadows, also a mysterious one: some suggest the ladies of the night made this to entice clients with its heady aromatics. Other stories say this was the quick dish the working women made for themselves when returning home, exhausted from a hard shift. Another legend reports trattoria cooks, near closing and out of food, would find these humble scraps in the larder to make a dish for the hungry courtesans who came in looking for a hot meal.
I find it amusing this was the dish I also made for my lover and me in the wee hours of morning.
Likely there are purists out there (purists? Of whore's pasta? I’m pretty sure that's irony) who will argue this is not a true puttanesca because it lacks anchovies. But as mentioned, the best part about this dish is you can tailor it to your preferences and whatever you happen to have on hand. I hate anchovies so I use the ingenious ingredient of miso paste – as I do in many of my sauces, stews, and soups – for a deep, salty umami richness. Some cooks hand-crush tomatoes, canned or otherwise, while I use tomato paste. Italians insist on leaving garlic cloves whole to cook and flavour the olive oil, then discarding; I throw in at least three minced cloves with reckless abandon. I sometimes add sun dried black olives when I’ve got them, but if I don’t, I don’t sweat it.
Pantry Puttanesca
The ingredients for this all have an intense saltiness, so be conservative with adding any more salt. Other than that, the beauty of making pasta – just like the ladies of carnal pleasures – is that there’s a certain looseness to how it’s done. Below is my version, and I have had numerous requests for another round (whether or not I’ve had the energy, is another matter). Feel free to tailor this pasta to your preference. As long as it’s good for you, it’s a success.
Serves: Optimistically 2 (but I’ve polished this off myself. Don’t judge.)
Chef level: It really can’t get any easier
Ingredients:
- 4 oz / 120 grams (and honestly, I just throw in what looks right, but the proffered measurement is for the nervous amongst us) good quality linguine or spaghetti (I like Rummo brand)
- ¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
- ½ cup white or red onion or shallot, diced (whatever you’ve got)
- 3 fat cloves garlic, minced
- 2 tsp fennel seed
- 1 tsp dried oregano
- 4 sundried tomatoes, sliced thin and plumped up in hot water
- 3 Tbsp capers in brine, roughly chopped
- 3 Tbsp hot Calabrian peppers in oil, chopped (if you don’t have these, fresh chili flakes are fine)
- ½ cup dry white wine
- 1 Tbsp white miso paste (or chopped anchovies)
- 1 Tbsp tomato paste
How to Make It:
- Pot a large of water on to boil, when boiling, add a small handful of salt and the pasta.
- Warm the olive oil, onion and garlic in a large, deep saucepan. You want the onion and garlic to gently cook and soften with the evoo as it heats.
- Add the fennel and oregano (and if using chili flakes, add them now, too).
- Once the onions and garlic are soft, fragrant, and translucent, add the sundried tomatoes, capers and optional hot Calabrian peppers. Stir to combine.
- Add in white wine – it should bubble but not immediately evaporate.
- Add in both tomato and miso pastes and stir to dissolve.
- When your pasta is about one minute from being done, remove it with tongs, and add to the sauce, stirring to combine. (We want the pasta to finish cooking in the sauce, which is also now slightly watered down with the pasta water.)
- Leave the pasta water in the pot on the stove (turn off the heat), as you may need some extra scoops of water to loosen the sauce as it cooks.
- Taste it. There should be a lovely briny bite, but it shouldn’t be so salty you immediately dehydrate.
- If you find there’s too much salt, add in a scoop of tap water to reduce the salt. Stir and gently cook to make the sauce glossy and slightly loose – but not watery.
- Scoop into pasta bowls, with optional parmesan (I don’t add parm to mine, I feel like the flavours are intense enough on their own.)
Wine Pairing:
There's a lot of punchy flavours in this full-throttle sauce, so I would reach for a toothsome red that can bite back. With puttanesca's origin story coming out of Naples, I'd stick to a southern Italian red, such as a Sicilian Frappato or Nero d'Avola.