Pastasciutta aglio, burro e acciughe
Pasta with garlic, butter, and anchovies
This recipe started as spaghetti aglio, olio e peperoncino, which means “spaghetti with garlic, oil and chilli pepperˮ. Itʼs a famous dish from Naples, and traditionally doesnʼt use anchovies. But the first recipe I followed by Antonio Carluccio did, and since then theyʼve steadily become the salty centre of this dish, while other traditional parts, like the chilli, have ebbed into ‘optionalʼ. I also never use spaghetti, which doesnʼt hold the sauce as well as tubed-shaped pasta. Because of these small deviations, the inevitable change of a favourite recipe, it felt wrong to call this recipe what Carluccio called it. But I have done my best to keep the same unvarnished tone, which I like so much.
For me, pastasciutta aglio, burro e acciughe is a perfect dish: modestly indulgent, moreish, yet beautifully simple, and it takes ten minutes to cook. Most recipes (for the original) say you can eat it at any time of the day – they are right. Iʼve cooked it at almost every hour past midday until 3am, and eaten leftovers for breakfast, although having leftovers is rare. It is my happy food, and my sad food. Itʼs what I cook when Iʼm excited, bored, drunk, uninspired, or just in need of comfort, with friends or alone. Itʼs also a forgiving dish. Thereʼs very little to get wrong, and itʼs hard to overdo any one ingredient. I hope you find as much happiness as I do between the butter, garlic, and small fish. And maybe, youʼll like it enough that one day, youʼll have to call it something else.
Olive oil
Garlic
Unsalted butter
Anchovies
Pasta
Chilli flakes (sometimes)
1. Add a glug or two of olive oil to a pan. (In a separate pan, cook your pasta until al dente in salty water.)
2. Let it heat up, then add a few cloves of sliced garlic. This is often between two and four, depending on how I feel that day (and my patience).
3. Cook gently, until just soft and turning colour.
4. Add chilli flakes, if youʼd like.
5. Let everything sizzle gently, making sure nothing burns.
6. Add a few cubes of unsalted butter, followed by the anchovies. Carluccio says six, but Iʼve learnt that here, more is more.
7. Stir so that everything melts together – your anchovies should disappear.
8. As your pasta cooks, add a small ladle of its water to the anchovy sauce. Make sure the pan is hot enough that it thickens and adds volume to the sauce, instead of sitting like a puddle. If it starts to look dry, add more.
9. Drain your pasta, and add to your sauce.
10. Cook for a minute or two, until the pasta is coated and the sauce like velvet.
Pasta with garlic, butter, and anchovies
This recipe started as spaghetti aglio, olio e peperoncino, which means “spaghetti with garlic, oil and chilli pepperˮ. Itʼs a famous dish from Naples, and traditionally doesnʼt use anchovies. But the first recipe I followed by Antonio Carluccio did, and since then theyʼve steadily become the salty centre of this dish, while other traditional parts, like the chilli, have ebbed into ‘optionalʼ. I also never use spaghetti, which doesnʼt hold the sauce as well as tubed-shaped pasta. Because of these small deviations, the inevitable change of a favourite recipe, it felt wrong to call this recipe what Carluccio called it. But I have done my best to keep the same unvarnished tone, which I like so much.
For me, pastasciutta aglio, burro e acciughe is a perfect dish: modestly indulgent, moreish, yet beautifully simple, and it takes ten minutes to cook. Most recipes (for the original) say you can eat it at any time of the day – they are right. Iʼve cooked it at almost every hour past midday until 3am, and eaten leftovers for breakfast, although having leftovers is rare. It is my happy food, and my sad food. Itʼs what I cook when Iʼm excited, bored, drunk, uninspired, or just in need of comfort, with friends or alone. Itʼs also a forgiving dish. Thereʼs very little to get wrong, and itʼs hard to overdo any one ingredient. I hope you find as much happiness as I do between the butter, garlic, and small fish. And maybe, youʼll like it enough that one day, youʼll have to call it something else.
Olive oil
Garlic
Unsalted butter
Anchovies
Pasta
Chilli flakes (sometimes)
1. Add a glug or two of olive oil to a pan. (In a separate pan, cook your pasta until al dente in salty water.)
2. Let it heat up, then add a few cloves of sliced garlic. This is often between two and four, depending on how I feel that day (and my patience).
3. Cook gently, until just soft and turning colour.
4. Add chilli flakes, if youʼd like.
5. Let everything sizzle gently, making sure nothing burns.
6. Add a few cubes of unsalted butter, followed by the anchovies. Carluccio says six, but Iʼve learnt that here, more is more.
7. Stir so that everything melts together – your anchovies should disappear.
8. As your pasta cooks, add a small ladle of its water to the anchovy sauce. Make sure the pan is hot enough that it thickens and adds volume to the sauce, instead of sitting like a puddle. If it starts to look dry, add more.
9. Drain your pasta, and add to your sauce.
10. Cook for a minute or two, until the pasta is coated and the sauce like velvet.