Anyone who’s known me at any point in my life knows that my greatest love has always been pasta. It’s dependable and familiar (topped with, for example, homemade tomato sauce and grated cheese), hot and intriguing (crushed red pepper and olive oil), the starting point for so many wonderful adventures, and, most lovely of all when it’s done right, simple and chic and bound to impress.
When I found this recipe, courtesy of Gina DePalma at Serious Eats, I was so impressed by the idea that I just couldn’t stop thinking about it–then after having made my first batch about two weeks ago, it got even more intense, and still now, after having eaten my fourth plate of it this week, I can’t stop thinking about it. Last night I made two batches, the first with linguine, that I sucked down at record speed, and the second with tri-color farfalle, the only other pasta I had on the shelf, to last today. It turns out that the pasta keeps okay overnight, although the garlic flavor, of course, gets stronger and hides the parsley and the delicious raw wine flavor that you get by adding that splash at the end.
Drunken Pasta
The wine that I used this time, as Gina advises, was a dry red that I wouldn’t hesitate to drink but that was still on the less expensive side–around 160 roubles, or about $4.70 at the current rates. I adapted the recipe just a tiny bit, cutting down the amount of cooking liquid so that I could get away with using just one 0.75 L bottle of wine (I’ve also made it with just a little less than half a bottle to use, and even that seemed to work fine), reducing the amount of olive oil, and garnshing with fresh chives.
To make it vegan nix the butter, don’t garnish with cheese, and take care to choose a wine that’s not made with animal-derived finings.
0.75 L bottle of dry red wine, divided
0.75 L water
pinch of salt
1/2 kilogram thick pasta, like linguine
2 large or 4 small cloves garlic, chopped
2 tbsp butter
4 tbsp olive oil
1/4 c fresh parsley, chopped
1/4 c fresh chives, sliced (optional)
1/4 c Parmesan cheese, grated (optional–I used Grana Padano instead)
Combine all but 1/2 cup of the wine with all of the water and the pinch of salt, and bring to a boil. Add the pasta, and cook until al dente (taste-test it, and when it’s tender but still tough to the teeth, it’s done–barring that, the infamous “wall-dente” test works okay enough with noodley pastas). While the pasta is cooking, melt the butter and olive oil over low heat in a saute pan large enough to contain the pasta. Add the garlic, and stir from time to time. The garlic should come to a sizzle and be aromatic, but not browned, just as the pasta is getting done. Add the 1/2 cup of wine to the saute pan, along with a splash (about a half-cup) of the pasta liquid. Scrape up any burned garlic from the bottom of the pan and turn the heat to medium. When the liquid is simmering, drain the pasta and add it, along with all of the parsley, to the saute pan. Stir constantly until all of the liquid is absorbed. Garnish with chives and grated cheese, and serve hot.
Yield: two portions
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[...] As usual at times like those, my mind turned to pasta, but this time without the usual thoughts of tomato sauce (after the pizza adventure last weekend, there’s none to be found in this kitchen). No: this time, I paid more attention to the bottle of milk in the refrigerator. I ran out to the corner vegetable kiosk and bought a yellow pepper, cherry tomatoes, and some fresh herbs, the things I’d need for pasta primavera with homemade besciamella. On the time-efficiency to boyfriend-satisfaction curve, this is one of the most successful suppers I’ve ever made, ranking right up there with drunken pasta. [...]
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