Is there spaghetti?
This was the question always asked when I was told that there was indeed a kids’ menu at the restaurant we were at.
I distinctly remember one road trip to the Rocky Mountains where I ate spaghetti almost daily. I did the same during another road trip down the Atlantic Coast.
I knew what I was getting and I knew that I liked it.
The tomato sauce, however, always had to come on the side. The leap from spaghetti with butter to spaghetti with tomato sauce could not be completed overnight. Spoonful by spoonful, I learned to love red on my noodles. My preference for tomato-based pasta sauces has stuck ever since.
Giant balls of meat never really grabbed me. Neither did a Bolognese. Primaveras were popular as a teenager, but meh. A little boring.
For a long while, I was a devout all’arrabiata girl, but as I’ve never been a fan of sausage, my constant modifications got old fast.
Here’s what I liked: tomato, garlic, chilies.
Here’s what I saw on a menu once: tomato, chilies, onion, bacon. Close enough.
My first taste of Amatriciana.
Hard to find thereafter, it was something that I greatly loved but rarely ate. The menu I first saw it on removed it with the introduction of new owners.
A good friend and I often speak of when we see it, when we crave it, when we eat it.
I’m embarrassed to say that I’d never made it before this month.
It’s not very hard to find a recipe when you visit Google—especially now that pork fat is all the rage. You find many recipe versions when searching. Some use tomato sauce, some diced or crushed canned tomatoes, some diced fresh. Some have garlic, others don’t. Some have parsley, some don’t. The most authentic ones require guanciale (pork jowls), pecorino cheese, tomatoes, onion, and the pasta shape called bucatini. It’s almost like a long macaroni noodle.
I combined what I read and what I liked and bought what was easy. I don’t want to go on a quest for ingredients when cooking just for me. The Italian Centre had all that I needed. A version on Epicurious uses balsamic vinegar. I thought that might be a little strong, but I needed to deglaze the pan before adding the tomatoes, as mine weren’t very juicy. I grabbed the white balsamic from my cupboard and it did the trick.
What I love about this dish is that it represents the simplicity of Italian pasta recipes. Just a few key ingredients in the right combination. Smoky, salty, sweet, spicy.
I warn you, though. The thickness of the bucatini means twirling can prove difficult. Saucy chins should be expected.
Bucatini all’Amatriciana
Makes two healthy servings.
1.5 tablespoons of olive oil
250 g bucatini
4 slices pancetta, chopped and divided
0.5 onion, thinly sliced
5 roma tomatoes, chopped, seeds removed, and mashed slightly
2 cloves of garlic, chopped
0.25 teaspoons of chili flakes
1 tablespoon of white balsamic vinegar
0.5 cup Italian parsley, chopped
Grated pecorino romano cheese, to taste
Heat 0.5 tablespoons of oil on medium heat in a skillet or sauté pan. Cook half of pancetta until crispy. Transfer to paper towel.
Heat remaining oil on medium-low heat. Cook remaining pancetta and onions until onions are translucent. About 5 minutes. Add garlic and chili flakes and cook one more minute. Deglaze pan with vinegar. Add tomatoes and cook an additional 7–10 minutes until tomatoes soften and the sauce comes together. The pancetta adds saltiness (as will the cheese later), but taste to see if more seasoning is needed.
Meanwhile, cook bucatini in salted water until al dente.
Transfer cooked pasta to sauce and cook shortly to coat pasta. Take off the heat and toss with parsley and reserved pancetta. Finish pasta with grated pecorino.
Mangia!
