Noodle Night: Pasta Verde

If ever there was a food that encompasses every mealtime from a fancy night on the town to the humblest kitchen table, that is pasta. Pasta tickled us as kids from a macaroni box, the miasma of orange powder and milk our earliest collective lesson in kitchen chemistry. Pasta fills our chicken soup bowl to nourish body and spirit when we are sick. Pasta lurks in oil at the salad bar, in mayo at the deli, in the steam table of a street cart. Pasta fills our autumn dish with seasonal pumpkin or repurposed turkey, awakens our springtime palate with primavera, helps us trudge through winter with the supreme comfort of meatballs and red sauce. Pasta is weeknight dinner, Sunday Supper, leftovers lunch, and midnight snack, and multitasking pasta often fulfills these offices from a single afternoon of cooking.

One click on the pasta tag, and one can see how much we love pasta in our urban home. I always spend a cozy September Saturday making meatballs to freeze for Saturday night dinners through the upcoming dark months. Of course that means spaghetti and meatballs for dinner that night, accompanied by Insalata Mista and a favorite red wine such as Loring. There will be a casserole of baked rigaboni during Halloween, a bowl of linguini after Thanksgiving, red peppers and orecchiette in December before the carbohydrate bigotry of January dieting.

Those carbs can be a conveyance for family history just as surely as genetics. Heirloom recipes for gravy or sauce are as sacred as the family Bible where they are enshrined as a folded receipt, barely legible in Nonna’s faded script. But one doesn’t have to be Italian to like pasta or have it coded into genetics: lo mein, spaetzle, udon, couscous, Pad Thai, pastitsio, kugel, satay, ramen, and tuna noodle casserole are just some of the ways that pasta arrives at the world table.

However your pasta arrives at table, it journeyed through kitchen private or public. Learning to make fresh pasta is worth any cook’s time who wants to do it. The process of bringing together this humble mixture of wheat, water or oil, eggs, and effort has a meditative, even healing effect. Because it is simple, it is profound. Gently kneading the pasta, rolling it thin, cutting it into shapes or pulling it into strings, connects us with the countless loving hands that have prepared pasta on floury boards and conveyed it into salted water.

From there, pasta remains the humblest of foods when tossed with simple ingredients from oil and garlic to stock and broth. One of John’s favorite dishes, which I make for him when he is sick or just in need of some love, is penne tossed with butter. But then who doesn’t love buttered egg noodles, swimming in soup or slithering under goulash? Another favorite, equally comforting, is spongy udon, dunked in dashi mixed, some would say heretically, with soy sauce.

We all learned, or didn’t need to learn if we had been listening to our grandmothers, the importance of a well stocked pantry during the pandemic. Along with flour, sugar, and coffee, dried pasta is a pillar of the pantry’s obligations to preparation and readiness. After long waits to get into a grocery, supermarket, or box store, we all encountered shelves labeled with purchase limits on pasta boxes – or shelves empty of them altogether. During those times, I made countless dinners of such simple but good pasta as puttanesca and carbonara, with leftovers, if there were any, for lunch the next day.

That is the power of Noodle Night: it comes from simplicity to sustain through times of want and worry and to celebrate during times of kinship and festivity. Noodle Night is not de facto modest. Lasagne anchors family gatherings from Christmas to weddings, as does pastitsio for Sunday Supper or Easter dinner, or kugel during Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, or Shabbat. If your idea of celebration is unfolding a menu at a favorite restaurant, in many of them, pasta has its own page. I will always remember the chicken piccata, served over spaghetti with oil, at a favorite local restaurant that I am sorry to report did not survive lockdown. During a trip to New York this summer, one of the best meals of my life – with some of the best friends in my life – was anchored by award-winning game for the rest of the table, and pasta for me. And when we return to our beloved Santa Ynez Wine Valley, I so look forward to the California Casual elegance of pasta dishes matched to local wines.

In celebration of Noodle Night, and in recognition of the traditional pasta recipes available at Urban Home, here is the third of three pasta dishes inspired by California cooking: a showy toss of bright green vegetables that echoes California’s summery vibe. Serve this light, herby pasta verde for a satisfying lunch accompanied by cool California Chardonnay, and cucumber aqua fresca for the teetotalers.

Pasta Verde

This vibrant vegetable sauté is like a walk through the farmer’s market; accordingly, please adjust the ingredients to your liking. Preparing this dish goes quickly, so have the pasta ready to toss with the sauté. You will need only a splash of wine for this dish; serve the bottle with dinner.

For the sauté

2 leeks

2 medium zucchini

¼ pound fresh green beans

1 small bunch pencil asparagus

¼ pound fresh snow peas

1 bunch fresh spinach

1 bunch fresh basil

2 cloves garlic

Extra-virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 bottle dry white wine, such as Chardonnay

Dried oregano

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Parmesan, for serving

For the pasta

1 package fresh cheese tortellini, 1/2 box dried pasta of your choice – try linguini or shells, or 1 box orzo

Prep the ingredients

• Align the leeks side-by-side on a clean cutting board. Use a sharp knife to cut off and discard the root ends of the leeks. Moving up the body of the leeks, cut the white and pale green parts of the leeks into coins about 1/4" inch wide. Do not worry if they are gritty. Cover the leeks with cold water and set the bowl aside. As you work, check the water every few minutes. When it is cloudy, empty the bowl of water by tilting it toward your hand and using your hand as a dam to keep the leeks from tumbling out. Refill with water and check again a few minutes later. Within two or three changes of water, the water should stay clear and the leeks will be clean of grit.
• Rinse each zucchini with vegetable cleaner. Cut off the cap and stem ends of each zucchini. Cut each zucchini into coins or half moons about ¼ inch thick.
• Snap each asparagus spear at the bottom of the stalk; it will break at the point on the stalk where the asparagus will cook best. Discard the bottom snap of each stalk. Place the remaining stalks on a cutting board and safely cut across to form two or three pieces of asparagus from each stalk. Transfer the cut asparagus to a colander and rinse under cool water. Set the colander aside to drain.
• Peel each garlic clove. Cut away the root end. Cut each clove in half; remove the bitter green inner pith if present. Cut each half into rough dice.
• Keeping the three separate, pick through the spinach, snow peas, and basil to discard any discolored leaves, stems, or pods.
• Pour ¼ cup dry white wine into a measuring cup with a spout. Add the lemon juice to the wine.

Sauté the vegetables

• Drizzle a large skillet or sauté pan with olive oil to coat thoroughly.
• Turn the heat to medium. Add the leeks, asparagus, green beans, and garlic to the pan. Sprinkle the vegetables with a pinch of salt and a pinch of oregano. Sauté the vegetables until they are soft but not wilted, approximately 5 minutes.
• Drizzle the vegetables with olive oil if the pan is running dry. Add the snow peas and zucchini to the pan. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt and a pinch of oregano. Stir the vegetable mixture just until the zucchini and snow peas are soft.
• Remove the pan from the heat and give it a gentle shake to ensure all of the vegetables are nicely mixed together. Stir in the spinach and return the pan to the stovetop.
• Drizzle the mixture with olive oil and the reserved lemon juice. Place the lid on the pan and reduce the heat to low.
• Cook, covered, just until the spinach begins to wilt, approximately 2 minutes.
• Remove the lid and add the wine to the pan. Give the pan a gentle shake to ensure all of the ingredients are nicely mixed together.
• Cover the pan and turn off the burner. Keep covered until the pasta is cooked.

Assemble the dish

Once the pasta is cooked and drained, slide the pasta into the pan, gently shaking the pan to coat the pasta with the vegetables and sauce. Serve immediately with grated or shredded Parmesan and fresh basil leaves. 

Resources

Pasta Puttanesca

Spaghetti Carbonara

Pasta with Sausage and Broccoli di Rapa