Recipe below: Penne with Clams and Red Pepper Rosemary Sauce.
I’m always cold in March. There’s never enough heat inside or out. Candles are good, though. Not that they give off heat, but they create an illusion.
I’ve never been a fan of scented candles. Patchouli, musk, sandalwood and me never got along, and patchouli in general has been known to give me the gags. It was in the air when I was a teenager. I’ve rejected men who wore it. Those oppressive scents are big in the scented candle business, so I’ve always disliked all scented candles as intrusive and even nauseating.
But as the New York cold drags on to the last mess of sloppy, gray sadness, I’ve turned to candles to create a contained space around my couch, along with my Mediterranean cookbooks, my wirebound notebook, cheap Pilot Varsity pens I buy in bulk, Italian food catalogs, biographies of dead gay artists, and, a new addition, a rosemary candle to bring the whole cocoon into focus. It smells not like perfume but more like food, like the polenta, rosemary, and olive oil cake I sometimes cook up for my husband’s breakfast. I’ve tried other scented candles I thought might work—bergamot, bitter orange, mint, sage (sage was disgusting)—but the rosemary one just fell naturally into place.
Rosemary the naked herb smells thick. It feels thick and even sticky. It’s like adding a piece of a tree to your food rather than adding a regular herb. It’s not truly savory either. It has sweetness underneath all its piney bitter. It’s not fresh like young pine sprigs. It’s richer. If I fry a sprig and eat it hot, it tastes sweet. If I eat a sprig raw, it’s bitter and can even make me want to spit it out. But it’s good infused raw in olive oil or cream, or in vodka. A rosemary vodka martini is substantial, especially if you use a little more vermouth than you might normally think proper and garnish it with green olives and a fresh rosemary sprig. If you’re not crazy about martinis, you can simply flavor green brownish Taggiasca olives (my favorites) with fresh rosemary sprigs, strips of lemon or orange zest, and Ligurian olive oil. I’ve made rosemary pesto, cutting it only with a little parsley. Its sweet pine scent, when it’s ground down with pine nuts and grassy olive oil, creates exotic beauty to spoon over grilled swordfish or even grilled bread.
Have you ever dripped rosemary-vanilla syrup over sliced blood orange? That can be mind blowing. So can rosemary-vanilla ice cream. And if in summer you have your own bush and you’re lucky enough to gather some of its blue flowers, try scattering them over rosemary roasted potatoes. I grow an upright rosemary variety called Tuscan Blue. I’ve found that rosemary goes with almost anything. I know because I’ve tried it with almost everything.
Most cooks say rosemary should be used with a light touch; I say not necessarily. I used quite a bit in this clam pasta, but it didn’t compete in an obnoxious way since I balanced it with the clams, for one, but also with roasted red pepper and hits of both fennel seed and hot chili. I loved the way that made a red clam sauce but not a tomato sauce. I sort of knew what it would taste like when I dreamed it up, but it was even better.
Penne with Clams and Red Pepper Rosemary Sauce
3 to 4 dozen small clams, well cleaned (I used 3 dozen littlenecks that were closer to medium-size. If yours are really small, you’ll likely want 4 dozen)
¾ cup dry sherry
Extra-virgin olive oil
2 red bell peppers, roasted, skinned, seeded, and roughly chopped (I strongly advise you roast your own. All the jarred peppers I’ve tried are too acidic and full of preservatives, giving them a chemical taste)
4 canned plum tomatoes, skinned and chopped
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 large shallot, minced
1 juicy garlic clove, thinly sliced
1 large sprig rosemary, the leaves well chopped (about a tablespoon)
1 teaspoon fennel pollen or ground fennel seeds
1 fresh bay leaf
1 teaspoon sugar
Salt
A big pinch of dried Calabrian chili flakes
1 pound penne
A palmful of flat-leaf parsley leaves, lightly chopped
Put the clams in a big pot. Pour on the sherry. Turn the heat to medium high, cover the pan, and cook until the clams start to open, stirring them around occasionally. I take each clam from the pot as it opens and stick them in a bowl. In my experience, clams, unlike mussels, don’t all open around the same time, so this way I’m assured that none of them overcooks. Strain the clam cooking liquid into a bowl (to make sure there’s no sand in the broth), and set it aside. When the clams are cool enough to handle, shuck them, and stick their meat in a bowl. Give it a drizzle of good olive oil.
Put the roasted peppers and tomatoes in a food processor, and pulse until fairly smooth but still with a little texture.
Set up a pot of pasta cooking water, and bring it to a boil. Add a good amount of salt.
While the water is boiling, take out a large sauté pan, and set it over medium heat. Add a drizzle of olive oil and a tablespoon of the butter. Add the shallot, and sauté until it’s soft, about 3 minutes. Add the garlic, rosemary, fennel pollen or seed, bay leaf, sugar, a little salt, and the chili flakes, and sauté everything to release its flavors, about another minute. Add the reserved clam cooking liquid and the puréed pepper-and-tomato mixture. Turn the heat down a bit and simmer to blend the new flavors, about 4 minutes. Add the shucked clams with any liquid they may have given off, and then turn off the heat.
While the sauce is simmering, cook the penne.
When the penne is al dente, drain it, saving a little of its cooking water. Pour the penne into a large serving bowl, add the remaining butter, and give it a good toss. Pour on the clam sauce, add the parsley, and toss again, adding a little pasta cooking water, if needed, to loosen it. Serve right away.
Erica De Mane 
This was great fun to read. I’d like to try the ice cream. The martini not so much.