FIRST NIGHT IN FLORENCE SPAGHETTI

Is Wednesday still called “hump day?”  Well, whether your work week is a straight Monday through Friday shot, or a variation thereon, chances are it has a middle that you need to get past in order to get to the other side.   On nights like that I need something fast.  But good.  Very good.  Points are awarded if it’s easy to clean up after.  And leftovers for the next day’s lunch are a big plus.

This has become my go-to for such evenings.  Like all favorite foods, this one has a story.  I first posted it and the recipe on the lovely food52.com, where I’m known as boulangere.  It was early last August, not long after I had returned from Italy and France with the dancing daughter.   Since then, it’s garnered over 5,000 views, and 175 people have saved it.  Neither is even close to a record for food52, but it has certainly been fun to read peoples’ responses to the both the story and the dish.  Here are both.  It’s what I’m having for dinner tonight.  I hope you’ll enjoy trying it as well, and if you do, please pass it along to friends who have humps of their own to get past.

______________________________

It was the first of many evenings without George Clooney. On the flight from Paris to Florence, we flew over Lake Como, nestled in the verdant hills almost due north of Florence. It is unmistakable from the air.  We all know that Mr. Clooney has a castle, or palace, or villa, or something grand there. I may not be the only one who fantasizes about dropping in to borrow una tazza di zucchero. Having failed to pack my parachute, I could only sigh.

On the flight to Paris, I’d been trapped in a window seat on the wrong side of the restrooms since approximately Newfoundland by a nice nurse of the missionary persuasion. She’d been traveling between family in the U.S. and Africa’s Ivory Coast for 40 years. She knew how to sleep on a plane. I can be quite polite. So I was a little ragged when I flopped into Florence at 3:00 in the afternoon, 18 hours after I had first taken off (though it was a couple of days before I was capable of doing the math).

Leaving the airport was like walking into a pizza oven. Hot. Seriously hot. I took a taxi to the daughter’s apartment, where the kind concierge was expecting me and let me in. I forced myself to stay awake until the daughter arrived a couple of hours later, but don’t ask me how. I was determined to start living on Italian time from the start so as not to miss one precious moment of the whole experience.  I suspect a shower was involved, and probably a change of clothes. Lordy, it was hot. How few clothes could I get away with? I was never going to see most of these people again, right?

Morning view from the bedroom window looking out over the Arno; Florence, Italy

The dancing daughter; Florence, Italy

When the daughter and her roommates arrived home,  the first thing she did was take me for a walk along the Arno and around her neighborhood: the favorite café, the nearest market, and most important, the best gelato place. With free wifi. Have I mentioned it was hot? I didn’t exactly hang on the daughter’s arm, beg abjectly and weep, but I did suggest that perhaps for just the first night we could have dinner Americanly early rather than Europeanly late. The daughter, who was getting by on the 10,000 calorie a day extreme dancer’s diet, was up for it.

She took me to their favorite student-priced restaurant. I felt myself disintegrating, practically hallucinating. I wasn’t sure I could make myself understood in English, let alone Italian. I was easy pickings.  I don’t recall what the daughter ordered (pizza would be a safe guess).  But I will never, ever forget this pasta. I took the first bite. My mouth dropped open. I gasped. I gently set my fork down in my plate and folded my hands in my lap. I very slowly said, “This. Is. The best thing. I have ever tasted. In my entire. Life.” The daughter, who’d been eating like that for a month, sort of shrugged – oh, that old thing – and tucked into whatever she had ordered. If this re-creation – I believe one says “avatar” these days – comes even slightly close to the one I tasted that night, you may get to experience some of what I did. And I really don’t believe it was the fatigue talking. Make it with and for people you love. Buon apetito.

Serves 2 with leftovers

1/2 package spaghetti or bucatini*
Sea or kosher salt
Good olive oil, and lots of it
1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes of whatever colors are to hand, halved
2 or 3 good sized cloves garlic, minced
1 can tuna packed in olive oil**, not drained, opened
A couple of generous handfuls of spinach leaves, stems pulled off

Juice of half a lemon

Sea or kosher salt and pepper to taste

A good Parmesan or Romano cheese

Bucatini

*  Bucatini is an ingenious pasta.  It has the appearance of being thicker than spaghetti, but appearances are deceiving.  It is actually hollow.  An open tube runs its entire length, which means that it cooks very quickly, and it naps a sauce in a way spaghetti can only dream about.  I am amazed that I can reliably find it at Albertson’s.  It’s definitely worth searching out.  Pick up a few packages of it, and keep it on hand in your pantry.  Whatever you do, don’t use a thin, delicate pasta.  This sauce needs one that can stand up to strong flavors and textures.

** Tuna packed in olive oil is another treasure to have around.  The water packed stuff will not work here.  Not at all.  This needs the tenderness and flavor of tuna in olive oil.  Yes, it’s a bit more expensive, and worth every dime.  Ortiz yellowfin, at the high end, can be found on Amazon.com at $10.99 for an 11-ounce jar.  Amazon also has 4-ounce tins of Ortiz white tuna in olive oil in a 4-pack for $23.57 ($5.89 each).  Cost Plus World Market here in town carries a 6-ounce tin of yellowfin for $2.99.  If they happen to be out of it, I can also find a larger tin (sorry, can’t remember the size) at my neighborhood deli and wine store for $6.95.  I have strong feelings about supporting local businesses.  Yes,  Cost Plus has stores nationwide; the people the local store employs all live right here.

Start heating a large pot of generously salted water (it should taste like the ocean). This comes together fast.

  1. Set a skillet over medium-high heat. It should be large enough to hold the sauce and pasta at the end. Force yourself to add 2 or 3 times as much good olive oil as you usually would; we’re not “filming” any pans here. This is all about the bold flavors of delicate ingredients. Use a good 5 ounces.  It’s going to be an essential part of the flavor profile.  Besides, olive oil is one of the “good” fats.
  2. When the oil is hot (it’ll shimmer, or ribbon), add the halved tomatoes. They’ll cook along quickly, releasing those precious juices to concentrate in all that lovely olive oil. It the skillet is too spattery, turn the heat down a bit. As the tomatoes begin to soften, add the garlic. When it’s very fragrant, add the tuna and its oil. Break up any large chunks with a wooden spoon. Turn down the heat to a good simmer.
  3. Check the cook time for the pasta.  Drop the pasta into the water.  Set a timer for 3 minutes less than the recommended cook time.  Multi-tasking necessary here: keep a set of tongs to hand to gently move the pasta around so that it doesn’t sink and stick, and also to move the sauce ingredients about.
  4. When the timer goes off for the pasta, don’t taste it!  I’m going to ask you take a leap of faith and trust me.  If you taste it, you’ll think it needs to cook longer, and you’ll wind up overcooking it.  Italians eat their pasta way more dente than al, and if you can work with me here, you’ll understand why and you will never overcook pasta again.  Besides, it’s going to cook some more in the sauce.  Use tongs to lift the pasta out of the boiling water and drop it directly into the skillet.  Dip out a couple of good ladles of pasta water and add to the skillet. Move everything around and together with your tongs. Stick a finger into it and give it a taste. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Toss in the spinach. Squeeze in the lemon juice. Move everything around until spinach is just wilted. This should all take no more than 2 minutes.  Use your tongs to lift the pasta out onto plates. Divide any remaining sauce between them. Grate some good cheese over the top if you wish, though cheese typically is not served with fishy pastas in Italy. Serve with slices of focaccia or baguette so that not one drop of sauce is left behind. You’ll be a happier person for it.

As noted, this all comes together very quickly, so be on your toes. It got me over the hump of my first night in Florence, and was worth the price of the entire trip to have tasted it. With my daughter. I was in heaven. Villa, schmilla. George was on his own.

Advertisements

About thesolitarycook

I'm a chef, a cook, a teacher, a reader, a writer, a bike-rider, a dog- and cat-woman
This entry was posted in Entrées, Fish, Pastas, RECIPES, STORIES and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

26 Responses to FIRST NIGHT IN FLORENCE SPAGHETTI

  1. Bevi says:

    I remember how I prepared to make this – securing the right tuna, scoring the bucatini – all worth it to make this heavenly dish!

  2. lapadia says:

    Beautiful recipe, and “blush” I admit I have not made it yet, because I keep forgetting to check for the Tuna. Cost Plus World is a 45 minute grocery drive I don’t make often. But you will certainly hear from me once I finally make it; after reading all the rave reviews I am sure it will be a favorite.

  3. Hannah says:

    Dinner tonight – perfect. Thank you! I remember this from last summer and thoroughly enjoyed all the comments.

  4. Kathleen Whittenberger says:

    I don’t see a single cat

  5. ldpw says:

    I will never, ever forget the look on Mom’s face after her first bite of this pasta.

  6. Wendy says:

    We did make this last night – excellent tuna in oil for me – and a second batch without for my daughter and her vegetarian friend. We added some goat cheese to theirs. Delicious both ways, but I was glad I had the tuna! So simple and so delicious!

  7. I will have to try this, I am totally drooling on my computer reading your post and gazing at the photo!

  8. Bevi says:

    Tonight I made this with the most beautiful tuna fillets packed in oil. My friend wanted asparagus instead of spinach to I pan roasted some spears and chopped them up. It was delicious.

  9. Pingback: DIFFICULT QUESTIONS | The Solitary Cook

  10. Pingback: SANDWICH SATURDAY: THE SANTA BARBARA (or HOW I CAME TO LOVE CABBAGE, PART 1) | The Solitary Cook

  11. Pingback: PRE-REHEARSAL PANTRY PANZANELLA | The Solitary Cook

  12. Pingback: WEEKNIGHT DINNER: MEZZALUNA MARINARA | The Solitary Cook

  13. Reblogged this on apuginthekitchen and commented:
    When I recently made my Pasta Piselli dish I was reminded of this wonderful, simple and utterly delicious pasta dish from my dear friend Cynthia, “The Solitary Cook”. Cynthia and I met through Food 52 and I admire her, she is a Chef, an amazing and creative cook and one of the nicest people you will ever meet, Besides our mutual love of food we share a love of animals and her assortment of furry and feathered friends is wonderful. I hope you enjoy this recipe, I make it all the time, I have mentioned Cynthia to you all before, making her great recipes for bread, she is an astounding bread baker. Visit her blog, you’ll see how wonderful she and her blog are… Enjoy!!!

  14. This looks amazing! I love the simplicity of the dish. Very true to Italy.

  15. I really enjoyed your story and am fully convinced to make your pasta tonight. So eloquently written. I felt like I was there with you. All I need is a good can of tuna and I’m headed out to find it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s