pantry treasures
load-bearing recipes
Remember the great bucatini shortage of 2020? When remote work was still a novelty to office-dwellers, and the ability to start dinner at 6 p.m. on the dot felt like such a treat? And then the shallot pasta went viral, and there was no bucatini to be found on the shelves anywhere, and then what — spaghetti? Please.
Grub Street wrote a really funny yet truly hard-hitting investigation into the shortage. I remember scouring various Harris Teeters in Charlotte trying to find some. Cooking from the small stash I had felt so luxurious. Opening my cabinet today and finding multiple packages of bucatini, scattered around my shelf and pantry, felt like such a contrast. The me in 2020 could not have imagined bucatini so abundant that I had forgotten I already had some at home.
My personal bucatini psychosis began slightly before the pandemic, when I became fixated on perfecting the carbonara and amatriciana. When I first started cooking more for myself in adult life, I had this impression that hand-rolled pasta was the most elite form of pasta. I wanted to use it for everything, because I just thought it was the best you could get, so why would you not use it? But just like there’s a tool for every task, there’s a noodle for every sauce.
Carbonara really benefits from the toothsome texture of bucatini, and really, any of the dried pastas like spaghetti or linguine. The one time I made it with fresh pasta, it ended up being a little too rich and mushy.
What I really loved about it though was how impressive the dish was for something that came from almost nothing. An egg, some cheese, black pepper, guanciale and pecorino romano. A handful of noodles. On the worst day of work, I could come home and have something so comforting, so fast. The absolute unit of pantry pastas.
Then the pandemic hit, and I was home all the time. I started going down a rabbit hole of pasta sauces, which led me to the Roman quartet — pastas of the region that are built on guanciale, pecorino romano and black pepper.
The summer diva of that set, to me, is amatriciana. Swap the egg for tomatoes and red pepper flakes and it is the perfect porch pasta to enjoy with a glass of wine on a weekday. I live walking-distance from a small grocery store, and I think there was a three-to-five day streak last year where I would pop in for a box of little tomatoes because I decided another day-in-a-row of this pasta was still not too much.
Today was the first real scorcher of a day, a hint of East Coast summer working its way in. I was walking home from a doctor’s appointment this morning, running through what I could possibly make for dinner before I had to head out for an evening commitment. I thought about this newsletter, and how I wasn’t sure what to write about, and then I remembered the photo from the first ever edition was one of a plate of amatriciana and a glass of pet-nat wine.
I went to the store on the way home, grabbing two boxes of tomatoes and some pancetta. I knew I had some pasta at home, though I wasn’t sure what shape. I figured rigatoni would be fine, though if the half-finished bag of orzo was all I had, it would be a disaster. Imagine my delight when I stumbled upon my forgotten yet now abundant bucatini.
xx,
Annie
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summer staple
The shiver you felt this weekend was the ripple of mourning that went through every millennial woman when she found out that SHEIN is acquiring Everlane. I am not beating the allegations — I own five pairs of the utility barrel pant, five pairs of the way-high pants, and a pair of 90’s relaxed denim at a minimum, and I wear them non-stop. Everlane’s branding as elevated basics made the brand a load-bearing structure in my wardrobe, and I don’t know what it says that they’ve sold to a notorious fast-fashion empire.
I’ve been thinking about the elevated basics of cooking, and what I lean on to put a meal together when I’m least equipped to shop and prep. I’d have to put amatriciana in that category — pantry staples, the tiniest bit of meat and produce, and the simplest of steps. I used to rely on recipes, but I’ve started to realize that the sauce seems to adjust to nearly any ratio of ingredients I put into it, and now I mostly riff. Don’t overthink it! It’s meant to be perfect for any occasion.
Serves 2, ish.
Ingredients:
tomatoes, roughly three or four romas, or one or two large heirlooms, or a box of cherry or grape tomatoes. if using larger tomatoes, roughly chop.
4 ounces pancetta or guanciale.
half a small onion, roughly chopped. optional and not traditional but sometimes you just need to get rid of an onion.
one or two cloves of garlic, same note as above.
black pepper
pinch of red pepper flake
parmesan or pecorino romano cheese
bucatini, or other noodle. two servings per package instructions
olive oil
salt
In a cold skillet or saucier, drizzle 1 tsp of olive oil. place pancetta or guanciale in pan, and turn the heat to low.
render the fat from the meat, until it starts to brown slightly and fat has pooled in the pan.
add onions and garlic, and season lightly with salt and black pepper. cook until very soft but not taking on too much color.
add red pepper flakes to taste, frying in the fat from the meat
add in tomatoes and a splash of water. bring to a boil and cover, cooking roughly 20 minutes until tomatoes begin to break down.
in a separate pot, cook pasta according to package instructions.
when pasta is al denta, drain and toss into sauce. if the sauce is very thick, thin it slightly with some reserved pasta water.
plate and server with grated cheese.



