Cacio e pepe

Pasta has a lot of merits. Chief among them in my book is that you can make a couple of different meals at the same time to accommodate any special needs or preferences (yours or your diners). I mention this because if you have kids, they will NOT like this recipe. But you might! I do!! Every now and then I get a big pepper craving and having this little technique/recipe in my back pocket means I can satisfy that craving -- even if I'm cooking up some other pasta dish at the same time. Genius!

Cacio e pepe translates to cheese and pepper. And, well, that's about it. This is as much a technique as a recipe since you can vary the proportions and basic incredients to suit your taste. (Although it did look as if a war was about to break out on the Cooks Illustrated site in the comments to the recipe they had there. A huge debate surfaced over whether or not fat or cream should be in the recipe -- I got too bored of the whole discussion before I found any resolution.) ANYWAY, this recipe is from a recent Saveur (number 128) feature on classic Roman food. The other recipes in there look great too, especially the carbonara, but this one really caught my imagination. This recipe serves 4, but like I said, if there aren't four people around who will like it, just cut it down to size and mix up a little batch of your own on the side.

I didn't really measure anything very precisely in my version, but according to the magazine you'll need pasta (1 lb. for 4 people), 4 tbsp good olive oil, 2 tsp freshly cracked pepper, 1 cup of Romano, and 3/4 cup Cacio de Roma. I don't know about you, but I wasn't about to let the fact that I had neither Romano, nor "Cacio de Roma" in my fridge stop me. I just used Reggiano Parmesan for both. I think the Romano would be nice, but the Parm came out just fine for me.

First step is to get your pasta going. I used one made from farro (a.k.a. spelt). I thought it would add an air of authenticity to my ancient Roman recipe (and figured I should do something to compensate for the Romano fiasco).

One of the keys to success in this recipe is to have the cheese grated to a powder (it helps it mix into the sauce better). So use the fine holes on your grater, and you'll be all set.

Then you'll need to crack your pepper. I used both Indonesian long pepper and regular black peppercorns. I like my trusty brass mortar and pestle for this job.

Warm the olive oil in a skillet and add the cracked pepper. This is another one of those like-dissolves-like situations -- the oils in the peppercorns infuse the olive oil and make for a real blast of flavour. Once the oil and pepper are warm (1-2 minutes), you're ready to mix in the pasta.

First, scoop out about 3/4 cup of pasta water from your noodle pot and add it to the oil and pepper in the skillet.

Once this starts boiling, drain the pasta and then add it to the skillet.

Then sprinkle your cheese on top, and toss the noodles vigorously to combine all that good stuff into a smooth sauce. (You can add a bit more pasta water if it is too sticky.)

This will make a real sticky mess of your plates, but it tastes soooooo good. Strepitoso!

My pepper pot provided part of the inspiration for this recipe. Just looking at it makes me yearn for something peppery. I got this with my friend Paul in a shop on Zanzibar Island somewhere in the old town. When we bought these little pots, they directed us over to this huge bucket of peppercorns to fill them up. The scoop in the bucket was like a snow shovel. What a place!