One reason I love Italian food so much is its simplicity, freshness, and collaborative approach. Cooking is a team sport in Italian families. Growing up, my Italian grandmother’s kitchen was always the most crowded room during dinners and parties because everyone wanted to help with the cooking–or at least have their say on how it should be done.
The only thing better is when an Italian friend visits and shows you how to cook something that becomes a new family classic.
That’s how Pino’s Pasta came to be our family go-to when tomato season hits in Northern California in August and September. RECIPE IS BELOW…
My friend Giuseppe “Pino” Papillo is an architect in Rome who I met when I was a journalist there back in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. We’ve stayed friends through the decades since I moved back to San Francisco. In 1999, Pino, his architect wife Joanna Kraus and their young children Sebastian and Lucrezia came to visit. After a few days sightseeing in the city (during which their bags were stolen from their parked car in front of my flat in North Beach), we all headed to visit my Italian grandmother Dee in Cotati, about 45 minutes north of the city.
My grandfather Pop had died just the year before and my grandmother was still a decade away from the Alzeheimers that would slowly rob us of her. There were a dozen people to feed for dinner that night around the big wooden table outside, but nothing on hand but pasta and tomatoes, red onion, and lettuce from the garden.
We all began weighing in on the options for dinner, including going to the store to buy other ingredients. It was a beautiful evening of late summer and no one wanted to leave their glass of family red wine to get in the car. Then Pino asked if there were any olives and capers in the cupboard.
“Of course,” I said. “and pepperoncino?
“Always.”
“Faccio Io,” Pino said, I’ll cook.
He put me to work dicing red onion and garlic and then threw it all in a huge frying pan to simmer with a couple glugs of olive oil. I could tell my grandmother was enjoying speaking Italian with Pino, who was polite and gracious with her about her hospitality.
“Oh, la casa é sempre piena,” Dee told him, and it was true, the house was always full and always had been as long as I could remember. And she loved it that way. I learned from her that there is always room for another plate on the table and you should always cook enough for a couple extra guests.
My grandmother and my mother chopped the tomatoes. Pino liked to peel and de-seed the tomatoes, which can be done pretty easily by dropping them in the boiling pasta water for a couple minutes and then removing the skin and coring them (in the years since, I generally skip this step).
We stood around the stove, taking in the sweet umami smell of sauteeing red onion and garlic and chili flakes as Pino occasionally stirred. He described the sauce as “niente, una tipica pasta del sud,” but to us it wasn’t just a typical southern pasta sauce of fresh tomatoes, onions, garlic olives, capers, and basil–it was magic.
Every ounce of spaghetti was eaten that night. The recipe was shared from cousin to cousin in my family, until everyone knew what I meant when I said, let’s make Pino’s Pasta. Pino still laughs when I tell him how famous his pasta is in America.
Pino’s Pasta
INGREDIENTS
1 pound spaghetti or linguine
Ten medium ripe fresh tomatoes (any kind)
1 jar Kalamata or Greek pitted olives in brine (drained)
1-2 tablespoons capers
2-3 cloves garlic (chopped)
1 medium red onion (diced)
3 tablespoons olive oil
Basil, fresh
Parmesan cheese
Pepperoncino (dried chili peppers), if desired, for heat
PREPARATION
Put on a large pot of water to boil for the pasta; add a handful of salt.
Core and chop tomatoes. (If you prefer to peel them, drop the tomatoes in boiling pasta water until the skin splits, then remove them with a slotted spoon, run under cool water, peel skin off, then chop.)
Finely chop the red onion and garlic.
In a large skillet, or pot large enough to add the cooked pasta, sauté the onion and garlic in olive oil. (If you like a spicy dish, add a pinch of dried peperoncino just before the tomatoes.)
When the onion is translucent, add the tomatoes, stirring regularly on medium heat.
Drain the olives from their brine and add to the tomatoes.
Cook on medium to medium-low heat until the tomatoes have lost most of their water and the sauce begins to thicken, about 15 minutes.
Bring the pasta water to a high boil and add the pasta.
Lower sauce to a simmer and stir occasionally. Add a tablespoon of pasta water.
Cook pasta until al dente (follow package directions).
Add a tablespoon or two of drained capers and some chopped basil to the tomatoes; stir well.
Drain pasta when cooked and add to the tomato sauce.
Toss well.
Serve immediately with fresh basil as garnish and grated Parmesan cheese.
Serves 4-5.