Spaghetti

This is a mildly flavored dish; the peppers virtually melt into the sauce during the long, slow cooking. In my family this is served as a side dish for pork or lamb.

Alla pirata usually refers to a dish containing seafood, and because pirates were known to be hot-tempered men, the dish is usually spicy as well. You could substitute other seafood you like, such as mussels, squid, or scallops, for either the shrimp or the clams.

Meyer lemons are sweeter than regular lemons and, unfortunately, are in season for only a short time each year. Since they are hard to find, I’ve fallen in love with Meyer lemon olive oil, which captures their flavor very well and adds both citrus tang and a hint of sweetness to all kinds of recipes. Because this is such a simple dish—the sauce is just onions, the oil, and fresh marjoram—do try to get your hands on some Meyer lemon olive oil; I use the one made by DaVero. If you can’t find it, though, you can use the citrus oil on page 226.

I’ve made this with lots of different pasta shapes—little stars, tiny elbows, ditalini, tiny wagon wheels—so use whichever you like or have on hand. In a pinch, you can even break a handful of spaghetti into small pieces if you don’t have any short-cut pasta on the shelf. It’s a perfect portable dish, a nice choice if you want to make something to take to a party or a new neighbor.

Broken strands of spaghetti are the starch in my family’s version of ribollita, a thick Tuscan soup that is usually made with cubes of stale bread. We always had odds and ends of long pasta on the pantry shelves when I was a child and serving it this way made a hearty meal out of a little bit of pasta.

A snappy almond-and-herb pesto is a fresh departure from the classic pine-nut-and-basil version. For an even more nutritious variation, add three tablespoons ground flaxseed to the pesto.

I get really excited to be able to offer something that other restaurants are not offering, and that our clientele is not familiar with. So I was really excited when I was introduced to Spaghetti alla Gricia, spaghetti with guanciale and—depending on who you ask—maybe onion on a recent trip to Rome, at a trattoria known for traditional renditions of classic dishes, Al Moro. Alla Gricia is also known as “Amatriciana in bianco” because it is a “white,” tomatoless version of that classic pasta dish. This is one case where I feel that substituting pancetta for guanciale just won’t do. If you can’t get guanciale where you live, find a mail-order source for it. It’s worth it. And until the guanciale is delivered, make something else.

When you want to serve a crowd but don’t want to spend all day in the kitchen, this great recipe is the answer.

Use your own favorite mushroom variety, whatever the produce market is featuring this week, or a mixture to jazz up spaghetti with marinara sauce.

This is the dish to make in the middle of the summer when heirloom tomatoes are everywhere. I can think of few more satisfying things to eat. Bottarga, considered the caviar of Sicily, is a delicacy made by drying tuna or mullet roe in the sun until it forms a dense, rust-colored block. Here, it’s shaved and tossed into the pasta, adding a deep oceany essence and salty-savory contrast to the sweet summer tomatoes.

Adding panache to everyday ground turkey is a bit of a challenge. Here, pistachios, orange zest, and a creamy chèvre sauce step up to the plate and bring the balls home on the first run. Serve the sausage balls with the sauce for dipping as hors d’oeuvres with cocktails. Or, cook up spaghettini, set the sausage balls on top, and nap with the sauce. The chèvre sauce can also be used to blanket sautéed chicken breasts, or to drizzle, cooled, over fresh pear slices for dessert, accompanied with a crisp, not-too-dry Gewürztraminer or Riesling.

Whether the tomatoes are fresh or canned is a seasonal matter: in summer, choose fresh ones; in winter, use canned ones. Both make a delicious, rich sauce for braising meatballs. When using fresh tomatoes, I like to peel them and I don’t bother to seed them, but that is the cook’s choice, depending on time constraints and inclination. The herbs are also a matter of choice: fresh or dried basil (the most usual addition), marjoram, or tarragon all enhance the sauce with a mildly sweet herbal presence; oregano or bay add a more assertive flavor. Spaghetti is traditional for this everyday, home-style dish, but other shapes, such as bow ties, small rigatoni, or penne, will also capture and hold the sauce as the pasta is lifted from plate to mouth. For the meatballs, I like to use my polpette, because their cheese centers add an extra oomph to the dish. But you can also use meatballs fashioned from either sweet Italian or Tuscan sausage with good results.

I am allergic to canned spaghetti sauce! Well, maybe not really, but I just can’t eat spaghetti sauce out of a can or jar. This sauce is easy, and it is even better warmed over the next day, after the flavors have had a chance to settle in.

I love living in Oklahoma. I do miss my family in Georgia, but luckily I get to travel back and forth a lot for visits. My Georgia family has also made the trek to Oklahoma several times, so now both places feel like home. Only once have I gotten so homesick I thought I wouldn’t make it, and that was because I was really sick with the flu and Mama wasn’t there to take care of me. Sometimes nobody will do except Mama! She made this soup for me, froze it in quart containers, packed it in dry ice (who knew you could get dry ice in Monticello?), and shipped it overnight to me in a Styrofoam cooler. When I got it the next morning, I cried, ate some soup, cried, ate some more soup, and thanked God for the most awesome mom on the planet!

We take this name from an old Iron Chef episode when the host declared “Battle Homard Lobster!” Yes, homard and lobster mean the same thing (like “minestrone soup”). Among other things that don’t make any sense: this is probably the most popular Joe Beef dish.