Do you ever look around at the ingredients available to you, the energy you have to give to the cooking process — or, as I recently explained to a medium-sized child shortly before I got uninvited from future family events, the amount of fudge you have left to give from your, uh, bucket of fudge — and decided to boil spaghetti, toss it with garlicky olive oil, and call it dinner?
There’s an actual, official name for this dish and it’s aglio e olio, and there is no time like the dog days of summer, or perhaps days you might be spending at the whims of an ill-equipped vacation rental house kitchen, to remind us that it does not matter how many amazing things you know how to cook, nothing gets people to look up from their screens/rouse from their post-beach slumbers to peer around the corner with piqued interest like the aromatic wizardry of garlic sizzling in olive oil. “Ooh, what’s that?”
Aglio e olio is a pasta dish from the city of Naples, Italy, but it has legions of fans among exhausted home cooks far and wide due to its short list of ingredients I bet you already have around, and the disproportionately high amount of flavor and joy yielded from them. I’ve used this as a backpocket recipe for years, eating it as-is with a salad, with a side of whatever looked good at the market that week, with a scattering of diced roasted vegetables that had been on their last legs in the fridge, and even, if you so desire (I bet you do) topped with lemony grilled shrimp or chicken thighs. But I also forget that it exists for months at a time, and when I remember it, we’re always thrilled to have it back in the rotation, so consider this a nudge. August is for working less hard in and outside of the kitchen, and that’s exactly where I hope this finds you, too.
Spaghetti Aglio e Olio
- Kosher salt
- 8 ounces (225 grams) dried spaghetti, or any pasta you have around
- 4 tablespoons (60 ml) olive oil, plus more to finish
- 4 cloves garlic, minced, or whatever amount feels right
- 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes and/or many grinds of black pepper
- A big handful of chopped flat-leaf parsley
In well-salted water, boil your spaghetti until it’s 1 to 2 minutes shy of done. Before draining it, set aside 1 cup of pasta cooking water, then drain the rest. In your empty pan, combine olive oil, garlic, and pepper flakes and then turn the heat to medium. [This is how I keep the garlic from burning too fast.] Cook, stirring vigorously, until the pasta water and garlic oil combine to make a glossy coating for the spaghetti. Add more of the reserved pasta water as needed to keep it loose — I almost always use the second half-cup. Toss in parsley, any additional seasoning, if needed, and serve right away with an extra drizzle of olive oil on top. Parmesan on top is not traditional, but your house, your rules, okay?
Previously
6 months ago: Simple Crispy Pan Pizza
1 year ago: Chipwich Ice Cream Cake
2 years ago: Braised Chickpeas with Zucchini and Pesto
3 year ago: Flaky Chocolate Cake
4 years ago: Plum and Cream Scone Cobbler
5 years ago: Deviled Eggs
6 years ago: Pasta with Pesto Genovese
7 years ago: Frozen Watermelon Mojitos
8 years ago: Corn Fritters and Bourbon Peach Smash
9 years ago: Hummus Heaped with Tomatoes and Cucumbers
10 years ago: Corn, Bacon and Parmesan Pasta
11 years ago: Tomato and Fried Provolone Sandwich
12 years ago: Easiest Fridge Dill Pickles and Grilled Peach Splits
13 years ago: One-Pan Farro with Tomatoes and Hot Fudge Sundae Cake
14 years ago: Bacon Corn Hash
15 years ago: Whole Wheat Raspberry Ricotta Scones
16 years ago: Mango Slaw with Cashews and Mint, Thai-Style Chicken Legs, Peach Blueberry Cobbler, and Scalloped Tomatoes with Croutons
17 years ago: Light Brioche Burger Buns, Blueberry Boy Bait, and Lemony Zucchini Goat Cheese Pizza
18 years ago: Chocolate Sorbet
19 years ago: Double Chocolate Layer Cake
This is what my family has every Christmas Eve, for…probably 100 years?
When you have a gigantic, Catholic family and not a lot of money, you need to get the most out of a few ingredients.
As a kid we would not eat all day and then the cousins would basically compete against each other to see how much they could eat (truly a private matter is very apt).
Now, in late middle age, one plate is enough. The memories are more filling than the food.