‘Buon anno, ma meno male che è quasi finita,” said my elderly neighbour yesterday as she wedged the front door of our block open with a bottle of washing detergent – Happy new year, but thank God it is nearly over. She then threw both hands into the air at the sight of the two bins just inside the door, both groaning with bags and boxes (several of them panettone), a plastic tree and the tube of a vacuum cleaner: our very own – slightly stinky – end of the year art installation.
People are back at work, but in Rome these are still in-between days bridging New Year and La Festa dell’Epifania, Epiphany, on 6 January, which for children means Befana. On the night of the fifth, children hang stockings and the witch Befana flies in on her broom to bring sweets to those who have been good, and coal to those who have been bad. Being a good housekeeper, she might also use her broom to sweep away the problems of the past year. The same neighbour has been asking Luca if he has been good since before Christmas. He just nods suspiciously. He has, I think, his own ideas about the lady, hunched with age, who lives in the basem*nt. “It is going to rain later,” she said as we stood in the detergent-blocked door looking up at the blue sky, “Dobbiamo prendere un po’ di sole,” which translates as “we must take a bit of sun”, which always makes me think of medicine.
A dose of sun or a walk is always a good idea. The oranges are back. Nature’s excellent timing means that Testaccio’s streetwise bitter orange trees are full of blazing fruit in January; joyful and optimistic, if slightly grubby. Optimistic too is the thought that although the light is snuffled away at 4:50pm, sunset will be 4:51pm tomorrow, and 4:52pm the day after.
This time of year, with its cold weather and still-short days, its sweeping away and new diaries, creates a selfish and singular appetite which should be listened to. Do you want salad and juice? Have them! Do you want a rib-sticking stew and another glass of red wine? Have them. Or do you want all four? I mean, it’s not as if we need to chose teams. This past week I have, at different moments, wanted oranges, fennel, great piles of greens, pasta e patate and apple crumble and custard – I keep promising myself apple crumble and custard.
I have written about pasta e patate before, and I stand by that recipe as a satisfying and beige bowl of goodness. Today’s recipe, however, takes inspiration from a Neapolitan version and is best described as mighty pasta e patate, or as my friend Antonio says pasta e patane. The principle is more or less the same, in that you make simple potato soup in which you cook pasta. However, instead of carrot, the colour in the soffritto comes from tomato. There are slightly more potatoes, a parmesan rind – the imparter of great flavour – and mixed pasta. This recipe is the best reason to start filling a jar with ends of packets and broken bits of pasta. Then instead of a parsimonious dusting of pecorino, you add a great handful of parmesan and some chopped provola cheese, which melts as it hits the hot soup. All this means the final dish is no soft, brothy minestra, but something Italians call azzeccata, a rib-sticking and soulful bowlful that confirms Neapolitans know something about comfort. “I want to eat this forever,” said my son, a string of cheese linking his mouth to his spoon. I understood.
On a practical note. Provola is pulled cow’s or buffalo milk cheese, made in a similar way to mozzarella, which is salted, ripened, and occasionally smoked. Cow’s milk scamorza cheese is similar. I think smoked provola or scamorza are particularly good for this recipe, and it is worth seeking them out. If you can’t find either, mozzarella, which melts in similarly stringy way, works, although you might need to add a little more salt. I don’t add pancetta, and don’t miss it. As with all soups or minestre in which you cook pasta, you need to watch and stir so the pasta doesn’t stick, and you may need to add a little more water. This is even more important when there is cheese involved and you are looking for a dense final dish in which a spoon stands to attention.
Pasta con patate e provola (pasta with potatoes and smoked provola cheese)
Serves 4
1 white onion, peeled and finely diced
1 stick of celery, peeled and finely diced
50g pancetta, diced (optional)
5 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Salt
8 cherry tomatoes, roughly chopped
700g potatoes, peeled and diced
1 litre of water, plus more if necessary
A parmesan cheese rind
300g mixed pasta
50g parmesan, grated
150g provola, provola affumicata or smoked cheese, diced
1 In a heavy-based pan, fry the onion, celery and pancetta in the olive oil with a small pinch of salt over a medium-low flame until soft and translucent.
2 Add the tomatoes and potatoes to the pan, stirring until everything glistens with oil. Add a small pinch of salt, plus the water and parmesan rind. Bring to the boil, then reduce to a simmer for 20 minutes, or until the potatoes are soft.
3 Bring the soup back to the boil, add the pasta and cook for 10 minutes or so, or until the pasta is al dente. Add a little more water if the pan looks too dry. Add the parmesan and a little black pepper, taste for salt, stir, then take off the heat. Add the provola, stir and set aside for 5 minutes, then serve.
