THE DISH I COME HOME TO: GENNARO RUSSO, SPAGHETTI AL POMODORO

"It was kind of a game for us at that age", Gennaro continues. "He loved to grow tomatoes, he’d plant various varieties. We’d take them home still warm from the sun, and make pasta al pomodoro. Back then we would use short pasta shapes – penne or pennette – but today I prefer the thick spaghetti we call spaghettoni.”

You should make this recipe, Gennaro says, only when the season gives you perfectly ripe tomatoes. “Nature is not a supermarket”, he cautions. “You need to be patient, and work with what it offers you”. When asked what feelings he associates with pasta al pomodoro, he replies “Wellbeing, happiness, the sense of being part of a family. I love making it for guests of Le Sirenuse, but I love making it at home too for my wife and daughter. Nothing can compare to a plate of spaghetti al pomodoro made with good fresh tomatoes and Gragnano pasta. It’s a simple dish – but simplicity done well is the ultimate luxury”.

For the recipe to work you need to find a variety of tomato that has similar properties to those that grow on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius, where the rocky, volcanic terroir helps the vines to find the magic middle ground between juiciness and concentration of flavour. Watery tomatoes that taste of nothing might work in a well-dressed salad, but they’re not much use for anything else. The aim is to source a tomato, like the heirloom variety Antico Pomodoro di Napoli, which delivers a dense, chunky salsa, without the addition of tomato concentrate or passata.

The easiest way to find Antico Pomodoro di Napoli tomatoes outside of the Bay of Naples is to grow your own. Failing that, try San Marzano or Roma. If you find that your chosen variety delivers a sauce that is too thin and acidic, reduce the tomatoes’ water content next time by cutting them in half and placing on a baking sheet in a low oven (around 100°C) for half an hour before use.

Begin by setting the pasta cooking water on the heat in a large saucepan. The usual Italian rule is to use ten times as much water as pasta by weight, with around 1% salt – so for the quantity here you would need at least 3.5 litres (a little less than a gallon) of water, with around 35g (2 tbs) of salt. (Note that if you don’t like tomato skins in the finished sauce, it’s easy to peel the tomatoes if you first immerse them in the boiling pasta water for a couple of minutes, remove with a slotted spoon, and cut them into quarters).

Peel the garlic and crush each clove a little with the flat of a knife. Cut up the peeled or unpeeled tomatoes roughly with a serrated knife into large chunks. Take a large skillet – big enough to accommodate the drained spaghetti at the end – spiral in some olive oil, set on a lively heat, and when the oil is hot, add the garlic cloves, toss until golden, then remove.

Add the pasta to the boiling water, making sure to check the recommended cooking time on the packet. Tip the tomato chunks into the skillet, adjust the heat if it’s too high, throw in around three quarters of the basil leaves, torn by hand into any size that suits you, and add salt and pepper to taste. Pour in a small amount of pasta cooking water (no more than a ladleful) to help the tomato soften. Cook for ten minutes, adding more cooking water if necessary to obtain a sauce that is both creamy and chunky. Drain the spaghettoni when still pleasantly al dente and add to the tomato sauce in the skillet. Toss for a minute or so on a lively heat, and serve, with a splash of olive oil and the rest of the basil.

Photos © Roberto Salomone