Psst: There’s an updated version of this recipe available on the website.
A few weeks ago, Alex and I had an accidental date. It was accidental in the sense that we had planned to take a walk, but the conversation quickly turned to whether we could score a table at Lupa. For the record, it’s nearly impossible to score a table at Lupa. The restaurant doesn’t take many reservations, and it’s not very large, yet everyone in New York City seems to want to dine there. This is why we had never been before. But that night, fate intervened when there happened to be one eensy table available. So we had an impromptu dinner on a random weekday evening, something that may have been ordinary to us five months ago, but as parents to a young child, it was simply earth-shattering.
I requested a beer and opted for the bavette or linguini fini, but for the sake of this tale, let’s call it spaghetti since it was plain. Whenever I trust a restaurant, I tend to order the simplest item on the menu, as I firmly believe that great chefs make you question why you’ve wasted time on gimmicky sea salts and foie gras when you could be enjoying a perfect bowl of spaghetti. And the cacio e pepe? It spoke to me. Well, sang and then chastised, as food often does in my presence, “seriously, lady, why haven’t you prepared this yet?”
A brief note on cacio e pepe, a dish that has consumed my thoughts for the past few weeks. I even tried an expensive and disappointing version at a nearby restaurant named after the dish. Someone from Rome would find the idea of using a recipe amusing since it’s simply made with grated Pecorino Romano cheese, freshly ground black pepper, and pasta water. Many argue that fat, such as oil or butter, has no place in this dish and they probably wouldn’t approve of a Cooks Illustrated version that includes heavy cream. Mentally, I struggled with the dish – water and cheese? How could they be mixed together? Regardless of the method I used, it wouldn’t emulsify.
And then, I simply released control. I developed an adoration for a particular dish at a Batali restaurant, searched for Batali’s recipe, and discovered that he didn’t instruct to magically combine oil and water, he instructed to mix everything together and allow it to happen naturally. So, that’s exactly what I did. And it worked. Now, I no longer have to hope for the perfect alignment of babysitters, visiting grandparents, and an available table at Lupa to enjoy it. Though, I wouldn’t mind a few more spontaneous Wednesday evening beer dates.
One year ago: Toasted coconut shortbread and devil’s chicken thighs with braised leeks.
Two years ago: Seven-yolk pasta dough and the best chocolate pudding.
Spaghetti with cheese and pepper [spaghetti cacio e pepe].
Loosely based on Mario Batali’s recipe, this dish is deceptively simple yet open to a wide variety of interpretations. Some versions eliminate butter and use only oil, while others forgo both. Certain variations include large, partially cracked peppercorns and half-melted pebbles of romano cheese in the sauce, but others opt for a smoother cheese, such as cacio de roma. After conducting my own taste test, I found that the saltier and more readily available Pecorino Romano was the better choice. Regardless of the approach, there will always be someone who finds fault with its authenticity. My advice? Ignore the critics and savor your spaghetti.
Serves 4 as a main dish or 8 as a first course.
Ingredients:
– 1/4 cup of olive oil
– 1 pound of dried spaghetti
– 2 tablespoons of butter
– 4 ounces of finely grated Pecorino Romano cheese
– 1 1/2 teaspoons of finely ground black pepper
– Salt (optional)
Cook spaghetti in a generously salted water in a large pot until it reaches your desired al dente texture. It is recommended to use a wide-bottomed pot to reduce dishwashing. Drain the spaghetti, while setting aside 1 1/2 cups of the pasta cooking water.
Dry your pot thoroughly, then heat olive oil over high heat until it is almost smoking. Add drained spaghetti and 1 cup of reserved pasta water, then step back as it will splatter vigorously. This is commonly referred to as “I have made this mistake three times and never learned from it. So, do as I instruct and not as I did.”
Toss together with tongs butter, 3 ounces of cheese and ground pepper. Taste and adjust by adding more pasta water, cheese, pepper or salt (which may not be required given that Romano cheese is very salty).
Sprinkle with reserved cheese and an extra grind or two of black pepper before serving immediately.
