Rome, Ricotta and L ‘Amatriciana
A year has passed already since I last visited Rome.
Rome became our first home in Italy, literally and metaphorically. It still feels like home to me, and I strongly believe that the Dégustateur feels the same way. Over the years I’ve ambled, walked or rushed across so many corners of its historic centre, that now, when I return, I navigate with ease in the ever so busy heart of town.
The reason for my frequent trips to Rome, after having moved to Venice, Florence and subsequently to London, was a small medical treatment I had started, and chose to continue until it’s finish with the same trusted group of people. It actually turned into so much fun and grew into a strong bond over the years. I also managed to spend some time with my dear friends, eat my favourite street food: supplì al telefono and pizza rossa, followed by a slice of the ricotta and visciole tart from pasticceria Boccione in the Ghetto (yes, this famous tart is sold per slice now, previously you had to buy a quarter or a half if it – never a problem for us).
Apparently there has been an unofficial division between who goes to Forno Campo de’ Fiori or Antico Forno Roscioli, meaning that you are either go to one or another. I’ve never belonged to any of them, but I’ve always shopped for pizza rossa – thin, crunchy and utterly divine – at Forno Roscioli. If, however, I’m in the mood for sitting down and resting my legs for a moment, I head to Forno Monforte in Via del Pellegrino. There I just love having a slice of pizza rossa with olives and salty anchovies, all washed down with a glass of chilled franciacorta, bliss. The simplest things are often the most exquisite.
Breakfast in Rome I’d treat as a proper affair: countless coffees here and there, la veneziana – a yeasted bun with cream, and/or cornetto alla crema. Guilty pleasures that I never felt guilty about. In fact, when time allowed, I literally walked and walked around Rome for hours, and needed a good dose of energy for it. I would stroll to The Orange Trees Garden (Giardino degli Aranci) on the Aventine Hill, to breathe a moment of calmness and inhale the delicate scent of orange trees; up to Gianicolo Hill for unparalleled views over the city; to the Basilica di San Pietro; Roman Forum – either before breakfast or in the evening, that’s always been my ritual; I’d walk to Ponte Milvio, Galleria Borghese and so many more places or spots of sweet memories that I hold.
I would always stop in a church, a different one each time, to light a candle – a tradition that the Dégustateur and I cherish a lot, and I would always bring back a big bag of coffee beans from Sant’ Eustachio Il Caffé, of which I’ve run out of already. You can call me unreasonable or even spoilt, preferably – please don’t judge me, but I would travel to Rome just to stock up on my coffee bean supply.
I can sincerely confess: there are days when I miss Rome acutely…
Pasta with Ricotta and Cinnamon
But there is one thing that I haven’t been very lucky with, the weather. Apart from the June heat most of my stays were covered by a blanket of an angry dark sky. If I didn’t get a deluge then the days were mostly grey and humid, with frequent intervals of a drizzle or rain, yet again. I really mean it, so so unlucky. Well, gloomy weather lends itself so greatly to long lunches, which is what I did occasionally, as there was nothing else to do or a place to dry my clothes. On these occasions, to brighten my mood and soul, I decided to treat myself to something special and sit down properly, taking my time to savour every moment. I have a particularly fond memory of walking in late to Pierluigi at Piazza de’ Ricci. Crunchy curly puntarelle tossed in an anchovy dressing were a must, followed by a Roman minestra di broccoli e arzilla (skate and Roman broccoli soup), all pleasingly paired with a glass of a cold and crisp glass of white wine from Castelli Romani.
By the time I finished my meal the restaurant was quietening down, all the crescendo and gentle hum of the voices and cutlery vanished, and that is when the waiters and myself got into a long conversation. Nobody rushed anything. Just the three of us left chatting, laughing, exchanging experiences, discussing where and why one would like to live in the future and what the expectations of the Romans for the upcoming Giubileo were (that is yet to be verified). A few ciambelline al vino to round my meal off before collecting my travel bag, say and kiss goodbye and head to the airport.
I’m a person who cooks when I yearn for a place. I almost start to smell and feel that particular part of the world, a particular moment, ingredients, as if it was present.
We’ve had here in London so many dry and sunny days that you can notice Spring everywhere. Technically it’s still Winter, but the sunny glow of the daffodils contrasted by clear blue skies insinuates something else. My longing for Rome and the whisper of Spring had guided me towards something fresh and fragrant, something peppered with mint and the best lemons I can possibly find. About a week or so ago I spotted a wonderfully creamy, piercing white cow’s milk ricotta in my local Natoora grocery shop, so I bought it – already having in mind what to magic up with it.
In Rome and Lazio most of the recipes will call for a sheep’s ricotta, which is traditional and creamier in texture. But in London, the availability of the ingredients is a different matter, and I was fully satisfied with what I found. And just like that, I made us two different ricotta pasta dishes on two consecutive days. I even decided to make the tagliatelle pasta from scratch. I have a second pasta rolling machine in my London kitchen, but don’t use it as often as I would like to. Homemade or shop bought, I’m sharing here with you a couple of the world’s easiest, toss it and season kind of ricotta pasta dishes, as well as a delicious reminder of L’ Amatriciana – guanciale and tomato sauce – tossed with bucatini, finished with a grating of Pecorino Romano, something for colder days, because it’s still winter after all !
Tagliatelle con Ricotta, Menta e Limone
1. Tagliatelle with Ricotta, Lemon and Mint / Tagliatelle con Ricotta, Menta e Limone
This simple plate of food was born amongst the shepherds where ricotta predominates and freshly picked mint has always been available.
I’ve enriched this humble dish with freshly grated fragrant lemon zest and a handful of grated parmesan.
Serves 4:
– 380-400 g of tagliatelle egg pasta
– 300-350 g of fresh ricotta (use sheep’s ricotta if possible otherwise the best cow’s ricotta you can find)
– a handful of fresh mint leaves, chopped
– 2-3 tablespoons of grated parmesan
– salt
– freshly ground black pepper
– grated lemon zest of one lemon, unwaxed
Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil and cook the pasta until al dente according to the instructions on the packaging.
In the meantime stir the ricotta with the mint, grated parmesan and lemon zest. Whilst the pasta is boiling take two tablespoons of the water from the pot and mix it with the lemony ricotta, just to loosen it a little.
Adjust the seasoning with some salt and black pepper.
Drain the pasta (once it has cooked al dente) and fold it into the ricotta and mint sauce.
Check for salt and pepper and season again if needed.
Serve immediately decorating with some grated lemon zest.
Pasta con Ricotta e Cannella
2. Maccheroni with Ricotta and Cinnamon
I came across this recipe in Ada Boni’s “La Cucina Romana”, which I bought during one of last visits to Rome. I love it not only because of its simplicity but because it reminds me of the Polish sour white cheese dumplings, which back home we’ve always eaten with melted butter, cinnamon and sugar.
Serves 4:
– 380-400 of maccheroni or other short kinds of pasta
– 300 g of fresh ricotta (use sheep’s ricotta if possible otherwise the best cow’s ricotta you can find)
– 3-4 teaspoons of sugar
– 1 1/2 – 2 teaspoons of cinnamon
Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil and cook the pasta until al dente according to the instructions on the packaging.
In the meantime stir the ricotta with the sugar and cinnamon until well combined and creamy.
Whilst the pasta is boiling take two tablespoons of the salted water from the pot and mix it with the ricotta, just to loosen it a little. Taste and adjust for sugar and cinnamon to your liking.
Drain the pasta (once it has cooked al dente) and fold it into the ricotta and cinnamon sauce.
Serve immediately.
Bucatini all’Amatriciana
3. Bucatini all’ Amatriciana
Bucatini is a thick spaghetti-like pasta with a hole running through the centre. It’s common throughout Lazio and it cooks slightly quicker due to the hollow centre.
If you are worried about any stains on your white shirt, just cook mezzemaniche or rigatoni (a short kind of pasta with ridges) instead.
L’Amatriciana is our favourite pasta dish (I got converted) and I play with the recipe every single time I make it. It all depends on the guanciale I’m able to find and the availability of fresh tomatoes. If those are out of season then tinned pelati are used. I encourage you to do the same, because the end result will differ slightly based on the above factors, as well as the Pecorino Romano cheese.
For my latest home-made Amatriciana for instance, I upped the ratio of the guanciale to the the tinned tomatoes. I simply found the guanciale too mild so I used 200 g of it in order to get good satisfying and profound flavours, exactly as we like it.
Serves 4:
– 320 – 400 g of bucatini or rigatoni pasta
– 500 – 600 g of peeled and crushed by hand fresh tomatoes (or use two tins of pelati tomatoes instead)
– 150-200 g of guanciale cut into lardons * (hard rind cut off)
– half a glass of white wine
– 1 small chilli pepper (initially use only half of it as a test, the whole one might be too hot for you)
– a good 100 g of grated pecorino cheese (pecorino from Amatrice or Pecorino Romano) to finish
Guanciale* is a cured pork meat carved from the jaw up to the cheek (la guancia). Pancetta is not really an immediate substitute, however you can always use it if guanciale is hard to get.
Heat up a large pan on a medium heat and add the guanciale lardons. Gently fry for a good few minutes until the lardons turn golden in colour and some of the guanciale fat has melted.
Pour in the white wine and cook all together until the wine has almost evaporated.
Now add the tomatoes and the deseeded chilli pepper. Carry on cooking (initially without the lid) on a low heat for about 40-50 minutes stirring occasionally.
Bring a large pot of water to the boil (you may not want to salt the water as the pecorino cheese is already fairly salty) add the pasta and cook until al dente (according to the timing given on the packaging). Reserve a cup of the water from cooking the pasta to dilute the sauce if needed.
Once the pasta turns al dente, drain it and add it to the pan with the sauce. Toss well and carry on cooking for a minute or so. Add some of the reserved water if you find the sauce too thick. Discard the chilli pepper and stir in some of the grated pecorino.
Serve immediately finishing it off with more of the grated pecorino on top.
