G’day!!
Everything good? Hope so.
We’re doing a switcheroo this week—your recipe is coming today because I’ve got a special post lined up for Thursday, and a surprise for the weekend too.
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The other week, Joanna, Eric, Adam, and I met up for a drink and bite in our neighborhood. (Jenny, you were missed.) Freddie arrived late and joined us.
I’ve been married nearly twenty years to my husband, Nick. We're still doing it. And by doing it, I mean parenting, supporting each other’s careers, investing in our families, sharing house projects, paying bills, having sex, and schlepping kids to stinky tournaments in far-flung corners of Pennsylvania. We’re still laughing, still discovering new things about one another, and–delightfully–still deeply into one another.
But sitting next to Joanna and Freddie the other night, made me remember the heady early days of courtship. When you just can’t get enough. The touches, asides, kisses.
What a feeling, to know that at some point in the night, you’ll peel off and then peel off all sorts of things later. All that anticipatory lust. God, I’m giddy just writing about it.
Falling in love is magic. For those of us who need a reminder of this feeling, we can live vicariously by cooking this pasta, and watching the romantic classics filmed in Manhattan: Frankie and Johnny, When Harry Met Sally, Moonstruck, Manhattan, Annie Hall, The Way We Were, Falling In Love…
Lately, I’d been developing a bunch of simple pasta recipes (yes, I know I wrote a book about them, but you can never have too many), and it made me think of the scene in Nora Ephron's, Heartburn, when Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson are in bed late at night eating carbonara, and he says, “This is the best carbonara I’ve ever had in my life.”
That’s when I knew I needed to get the lovebirds a creamy bedtime pasta–STAT.
I’m not sure of Freddie’s culinary chops, but I know Joanna’s bandwidth in the kitchen is limited. (She possesses many other superpowers.) So I needed a recipe either of them could crank out, and blow the other's mind with.
This dish was inspired by two restaurants I love. The first:Via Carota in the West Village. They serve a Tagliatelle with Parmigiano, Prosciutto & Peas that’s obscenely decadent. I could be wrong, but I think there’s a whisper of nutmeg to the creamy sauce? It makes sense–it’s a classic touch in bechamel. So I’m adding it to mine. I’m also borrowing their idea of topping the pasta with delicate, melt-in-your-mouth, sheets of prosciutto, torn into bite-sized ribbons on top. The second inspiration came from Feast & Floret, a cozy restaurant in Hudson, New York, owned by a friend. Nick and I have a place upstate, and when we’re not in the mood to cook, we head there for dinner. Recently, they had a Caramelized Leek & Pancetta Fettuccine on the menu. Guys, the leeks! That’s the secret weapon. They bring an earthy sweetness that cuts through the silky rich sauce. I could’ve slammed at least three bowls.
So Jo, Freddie–here’s a midnight pasta named after you. I promise, it won’t keep either of you in the kitchen long.
Another post I’ll tell you how Nick and I met. It’s a good one and involves a bookstore. Got any good love stories? A rocking romance tale? A memory that still lingers? Share!! We need to escape. Love is alive!
Creamy Leek, Prosciutto & Parmigiano Fettuccine
This pasta is for two lovebirds, but can easily be doubled.
Vegetarians, leave off the prosciutto, and you still have a tasty pasta. Use a microplane or the finest side of a box grater to grate the Parmigiano–this ensures it melts effortlessly into the pasta. In spring I’d use green garlic with the leeks.
Serves: 2 (plus one lunch serving the next day)
Total Time: 20 minutes
Ingredients
8oz (230g) fettuccine
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 small-medium leeks, trimmed, white and light green parts only, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1¼ cup (300ml) heavy cream
Finely grated nutmeg
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1½ cups finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus more for serving
4 (2oz)delicately thin sheets of prosciutto
Directions
Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Cook the pasta, according to the package instructions.
Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a large frying pan over medium heat. Add the leeks and garlic, and sauté for 5 minutes, until soft and fragrant.
Reduce the heat to low. Add the cream, pinch of nutmeg, salt, and lots of cranks of black pepper. Let it gently simmer.
When the pasta has cooked, use a spider or tongs to transfer the pasta into the creamy leek sauce. Add the Parmigiano and about ½ –¾ cup of pasta water. Toss or stir until the cheese melts, and the glossy sauce coats the pasta.
Divide into bowls. If using, tear the prosciutto into bite-sized pieces (sneak a piece), and place on top of pasta.
Serve pronto with more Parmigiano.
That looks delicious! Even for a couple who just celebrated 50 years of marriage! 🩷🩷
Ahhhhhh, love this possum!!! Your newsletter is honestly making me smile from ear to ear!