
Lemon, Gitanes, Ribbon, and Spoon, by Joseph Keiffer (jpkeiffer.com).
Recipe below: Linguine with Lemon, Butter, and Basil
I remember the lemon pasta craze of the 1980s. I think it started in Rome and then worked its way over here. This was not long after the penne alla vodka craze. My mother made a lot of penne alla vodka. It was cheap and quick. My father loved it. I don’t remember her making lemon pasta, though, but it was something I took up after I moved out of the house. I served it to my city gang. Lots of cream-coated fettuccine flecked with lemon zest and anchored by Parmigiano, or what was called Parmesan at Gristedes. I even put a recipe for it in Pasta Improvvisata, my first cookbook. Man, that stuff was good. But I never felt too good after eating it. It quickly congealed into a sold mass. My teeth and tongue stayed coated with lemon mousse for hours. Even low-grade pinot grigio didn’t wash it away. Lots of cream does weird things to my head, making me happy at first and then, later on, kind of depressed. A little like alcohol, now that I think of it.
And speaking of depressed, it’s now February, my least favorite month, if you don’t count March. It’s hard to keep a seasonal kitchen right now, but I try, cooking whatever roots and impenetrable gourds I can dig out of the Greenmarket bins. The bright spot in this low time is gorgeous citrus. The fragrant lemons at Citarella got me wanting lemon pasta again. But no cream this time around. I’m thinking more of a linguine-with-clam-sauce version, but without the clams. Lemon, herbs, olive oil, a little onion, white wine, and butter at the end.
Yes, it came out nice. Sunny winter in a bowl.
Linguine with Lemon, Butter, and Basil
(Serves 2)
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
The grated zest from 3 lemons, plus the juice from 1
1 teaspoon sugar
Salt
¼ cup dry vermouth
Coarsely ground black pepper
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese
The green tops from 2 scallions, very thinly sliced
½ pound linguine
A small handful of basil leaves, cut into chiffonade
Set up a pot of pasta cooking water, throw in a good amount of salt, and bring it to a boil. Drop in the linguine.
Get out a large skillet, and set it over medium heat. Add the olive oil and the lemon zest, and sauté for about a minute, to release the oil from the zest. Add the sugar and a little salt, and sauté for a few seconds longer. Add the vermouth, and let it bubble for a few seconds. Now add the lemon juice, and let it bubble for about a half a minute, just to reduce it slightly.
When the linguine is al dente, drain it, saving about a half a cup of the cooking water, and add the linguine to the skillet. With the heat now on low, add the butter, a good amount of coarse black pepper, and maybe a little more salt, and toss well. Turn off the heat, and add the Parmigiano, the scallions, and the basil, tossing again, and adding a little cooking water if needed to loosen the sauce.
Portion out the linguine into two bowls, and eat it hot.
Variation: You can add shrimp or scallops to this. Just sauté them in a hot skillet, deglaze with a shot of vermouth or limoncello, and add them to the pasta during the final pan toss.
Know what you mean about the creamy lemon pasta! I always cut the sauce by adding a lot of the pasta cooking water to thin it down. And I often make lemon pasta not unlike this one…I find it so refreshing and often serve it as a primo with fish or whatever…Also the addition of butter makes a nice touch…must remember that!
Hi Phyllis, I really crave lemons in the winter. Lemons and anchovies for some reason, both good with pasta.
I meant to also say that I’ve often used Meyer lemon for a slightly different taste…very good I think!
Thanks for this, Sounds lovely. George made dinner for me last night–I am trying to shake a head cold that seems to have moved in for the season. I requested garlic and anchovy pasta…something I could taste…and he found a lovely recipe that called for lemon juice, which seemed to meld all the flavors into a whole–raised this (for us) staple pasta dish into something special. Hooray for lemons. Hope you and Fred are well.
Hi Therese, Lemons rule my winter. I hope you’re enjoying this lovely snow. We’re up at the house staring at the white meadow. I hope you feel better. Hi to George.