A Most Adaptable Pasta
My friend the foodie and I were talking about what we'd fixed for dinner lately. I was telling him about the pasta with broccoli rabe I'd made the night before when he interrupted me.
"Aaah, the one with Italian sausage?"
No, I said, I was running late and hadn't stopped by the market to pick up sausage.
"What about anchovies, then?"
No, I said, I'd run out of anchovies and had forgotten to buy more.
"But you used those little pepperoncini, right, those little bits of dried red pepper?"
Well actually, I confessed, at the last minute I realized I was out of those too.
I was getting the distinct feeling that I wasn't going to pass foodie muster with this dinner. But it was good. In fact, it was very good.
What I had done was cook garlic--a lot of it, actually--until it had barely browned, then added lemon zest off-heat just to sizzle a minute while the oil cooled (cooking the zest too long diminishes its impact). I blanched the broccoli rabe until it was just tender, then cooked the pasta in the same water. When the pasta was done, I put it and the broccoli in the pan with the garlic and lemon peel and cooked it for a minute or two over high heat with lemon juice and a bit of the pasta cooking water to bind them.
Still, just because I think the dish tastes good this way certainly doesn't mean it is the only way to fix it. In fact, it's probably not even the best way.
But that's not really the point. Some recipes are perfect as written, neither needing nor really tolerating alteration. Others are so adaptable that they are practically unbreakable. This is one of those. Bend it, fold it, spindle it anyway you want. It doesn't matter whether you add sausage or anchovies or even peppers, it's still going to taste good.
For that reason, this is a recipe that almost invariably winds up in the day-to-day repertoire of everybody who tries it. Given the fundamentals--good olive oil, garlic and dried pasta--it will adapt itself to just about anything you have (or don't have) in your pantry.
I particularly like it made with crumbled Italian sausage browned almost to the point of crustiness. The rapini has a sharp edge that cuts through the sweet pork fattiness wonderfully.
On the other hand, sometimes I want it with a salty pop--anchovies or capers will do. Pecorino-Romano--that pungent salty sheep's milk cheese--is nice if you're not adding anchovies or capers.
