Erica De Mane

Still Life with Tuna, by Sunshine Art.

Recipe below: Cavatappi with Tuna, Black Olives, and Arugula

I assume that most of my readers are, like me, getting through this period of isolation with the help of cooking. In normal times I wake up thinking about what I’ll make for dinner. Now I think about that constantly. I know that many cooks are reaching back into their childhoods and pulling out dishes from memories, both good and bad. I certainly am.

There’s no dish that reminds me more of my mother than pasta with canned tuna. It showed up on the table when she was angry, or at least that’s how it seemed to me. If I recall correctly, she served a version of this the night she hurled a piece of fruit at me, an apple, I believe, missing me but hitting my friend Scott in the head so hard that the barrel chair he was sitting on went spinning. Yes, I believe that was one of our pasta with canned tuna nights.

My mother made various versions of the dish, most often a sort of puttanesca with capers and olives and canned tomatoes, and also a pasta with tuna and peas, with or without tomatoes. I loved all the various takes. I haven’t made it in a while, but today I realized that though my Italian pantry was getting low, I still had all the fixings for this perfect one-dish meal. Maybe my sister will throw a wine bottle at me. I kind of hope so. Just to liven things up.

Get good tuna in olive oil. I like Flott and Agostino Recco, both from Sicily, and Ortiz, from Spain.  Prolonged heating messes up the delicate taste of the fish, so you’ll want to add it at the last minute and just warm it through. I understand that it’s not easy to find good stuff at the markets these days. I don’t usually buy Barilla pasta or Cento tomatoes, but that was all they had, and I feel lucky I got it. Do the best you can. It’s a very forgiving dish.

Isolation era provisions.

Cavatappi with Tuna, Black Olives, and Arugula

(Serves 4 as a piatto unico)

Salt
Extra-virgin olive oil
1 shallot or small onion, chopped
1 or 2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
A splash of sweet vermouth
1 28-ounce can Italian tomatoes, well chopped, with the juice
Aleppo pepper
1 pound cavatappi, fusilli, or penne pasta
A palmful of shriveled Moroccan olives, pitted
2 7-ounce jars or cans good tuna packed in olive oil, drained
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
5 or 6 big sprigs marjoram or oregano, the leaves lightly chopped
A big handful of baby arugula
Grana Padano cheese for the table.

Set up a big pot of pasta cooking water, add a lot of salt, and bring it to a boil.

While the water is heating, get out a large skillet, and drizzle in about 2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat. Add the shallot or onion, and sauté until softened, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic, and cook until fragrant, about a minute longer. Add the vermouth, and let it bubble out. Add the tomatoes, season with salt and some Aleppo, and cook at a lively bubble for about 5 minutes.

Drop the pasta into the boiling water.

Turn the heat off under the tomato sauce. Add the tuna, the olives, the marjoram or oregano, and the butter, and stir everything around.

When the pasta is al dente, pour it into a big serving bowl, saving a little of the cooking water.

Pour on the tomato and tuna sauce, and toss, adding a little cooking water if needed. Check for seasoning. Add the arugula, and toss again quickly.  Bring the grana Padano to the table for those who want it. I like cheese with this tuna dish.