Erica De Mane

Recipe: Orecchiette with Cherry Tomatoes, Feta, and Marjoram

When I see a mini bowl of ditali with ceci beans going for $26 at a star chef’s restaurant here in ruthless old Manhattan, it makes my Puglian-Sicilian blood boil. One relatively new establishment, a one-stop pizzeria, caffè, wine bar, raw bar, ristorante, trattoria, food shop, wine shop, and cooking school, especially irks me, but that Disneyland of Italian cooking will go nameless because you’ll just think I’m jealous (and maybe I am a little), and you all know what I’m taking about anyway. That loud, pushy conglomerate makes me nostalgic for the little Italian groceries that used to be so common in the city, places you can still find on Arthur Avenue in the Bronx (although, granted, not necessarily run by Italians anymore). Maybe I should open one. Then my entire being could reek of provolone. That would be heaven.

I know I’ve spoken of my love for la cucina povera many times. That is the essence of true Southern Italian cooking, my heritage, and the fact that it isn’t particularly povera any more, at least not in Manhattan, is not a problem for me. I know I can take its cooking philosophy, basically the original Mediterranean diet, and make wonderful dishes inexpensively in my own home. Nothing makes me feel better than gathering up a few vegetables, pasta, a little cheese, some good olive oil, and creating something fine.

Some people think of la cucina povera as being one big, sloppy pot of beans. But the cooking is vibrant. You’ve got fish, meat, grains, tons of vegetables, cheese, fruit, olive oil, and a myriad way to work them, with the meat, fish, and cheeses, the more expensive items, playing a supporting, not starring, role. So you can and should buy the best of everything, because with this style of cooking it’s how you use what you buy that makes it healthy, economical, and beautiful.

Pancetta, guanciale and anchovies are my three favorite cucina povera flavor enhancers. A little goes a very long way and can elevate your cooking from dull to extremely interesting instantaneously. Here I’ve added a bit of pancetta to give a rich underpinning to the pasta sauce.

Two weeks ago my friend Barbara spent hours gathering up all the tomatoes she could salvage from Hurricane Irene, which hit hard in parts of upstate New York. Her plants were destroyed, and red and green tomatoes lay everywhere. She dropped off a big bag at my house. There were a few big heirloom types, but mostly she gave me ripe cherry tomatoes, ones that have a beautiful aroma with a  hint of tomato leaf to them, making them spicy and almost salty. I’ve been using them in everything, including several pasta dishes.  In this pasta, I tried to bring out their complex saltiness by including feta. Lately I very much prefer the mild French feta to most of the Greek ones I find, the French being gentler on the palate, which I feel is better for a pasta sauce, where you don’t want a taste that knocks you over the head, drowning out the pasta itself.

The blend of tomato and feta with marjoram is just exquisite. You might be tempted to substitute oregano, since it’s such a natural with feta, but do yourself a favor. Try this, and see how its subtler, more floral taste adds unexpected perfume to an ultra simple pasta.

Orecchiette with Cherry Tomatoes, Feta, and Marjoram

(Serves 5 as a first course)

Salt
Extra-virgin olive oil
½ pound mild French feta cheese, crumbled
6 large sprigs marjoram, the leaves very lightly chopped
1 pound orecchietti

1 approximately ⅛-inch-thick slice pancetta, cut into small cubes
1 fresh medium-hot red chili, such as a peperoncino, minced, including the seeds
2 pints cherry tomatoes, cut in half
1 large end-of-summer garlic clove, minced
A generous splash of sweet red vermouth
A big handful of flat-leaf parsley leaves, very lightly chopped

Put up a big pot of pasta cooking water and bring it to a boil. Add a generous amount of salt.

In a large, warmed pasta bowl, add about 2 tablespoons of olive oil, the crumbled feta, and the marjoram. Give it a mix.

Drop the orecchiette into the water.

In a large skillet, heat a tablespoon of olive oil over medium flame. Add the pancetta, and let it get crisp. Add the peperoncino and the tomatoes, and sauté for about a minute. Now add the garlic, turn the heat up a tad, and cook until the tomatoes start to give off some juice, about 4 minutes. You don’t want to cook them much longer than that or their skins will start pulling away (not a huge sin, but it’s a nicer dish when you don’t have to pick those out of your teeth). Add the red vermouth, and let it bubble for about a minute. Season the tomatoes with a little salt, and turn off the heat.

When the orecchiette is al dente, drain it, leaving a little water clinging to it, and add it to the pasta bowl. Toss well. The heat of the pasta will start to melt the feta, giving it a creamy texture. Add the tomatoes, with all the skillet juices, and the parsley, and toss gently. Serve hot.