This is a traditional Italian pasta dish that comes together quickly, and is quite delicious. Its probably quite familiar to food geeks like me, but I know some of my friends don’t cook much. This is an easy dish that seems like its more work than it really is and will be sure to impress whoever you’re cooking for. I don’t as a rule like tomato-based pasta sauces — at least, I can’t find many marinaras that I find interesting. But this is quite different from a marinara sauce (its not nearly as saucy, for one thing).

The name “puttanesca” derives from the Italian word for “whore”. There are a couple of different stories about the name. One story says that this dish was aromatic and that prostitutes would cook the dish to attract customers. I think this sounds a bit silly and overly-simplistic. There are lots of strongly-scented dishes in the Italian repertoire, so why should this one be special?

Another (better) story about this dish comes from Diane Seed in her “Top 100 Pasta Sauces”. (p.20) ISBN 0-89815-232-1. She says:

My introduction to this famous pasta dish occured when I overheard two elderly priests discussing the pros and cons of Spaghetti alla Puttanesca (”Whore’s spagehtti”) as they deliberated over the menu in a Neapolitan restaurant. Made of ingredients found in most Italian larders, this is also known as ‘Spaghetti alla Buona Donna’ - or ‘Good Woman’s Spaghetti’ - which can be misleading if one is not familiar with the ironic insult ‘figlio d’una buona donna’ - son of a good woman.

To understand how this sauce came to get its name we have to look back to the 1950’s when brothels in Italy were state-owned. They were known as case chiuse or ‘closed houses’ because the shutters had to be kept permanently closed to avoid offending the sensibilities of neighbors or innocent passers-by. Conscientious Italian housewives always shop at the local market every day to buy really fresh food, but the ‘civil servants’ were only allowed one day per week for shopping and their time was valuable. Their speciality became a sauce made quickly from odds and ends in the larder and now invaluable to us all, by whatever degree of virtue, when time and ingredients are in short supply.

This dish also figures in Lemony Snicket’s “The Bad Beginning”.

Items
  • 1 lb spaghetti. I tried whole wheat spaghetti, but didn’t like it as much as regular Barilla or whatever.
  • 3Tbsp olive oil
  • 4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
  • 1/2 medium onion, chopped (optional)
  • 3 anchovy fillets (anchovies are, in my opinion, always optional)
  • 6 fresh plum tomatoes, or 1 14oz can of plum tomatoes. If using fresh tomatoes, cut the very tops off where the stem was, and cut them in half. Carefully scoop out the gelatinous seeds, and chop the tomatoes into 1 inch cubes.
  • 1 cup of pitted black olives in oil. Calamata olives are good. Tinned black olives are bad (they just taste like the can). If you buy the Calamata olives and they’re unpitted, you can pit most of them by squeezing them if they’re soft and the pit will just come out. If the olives are less ripe, you may need to cut them (carefully!) across the middle and you can usually squeeze the pit out. Eat the ones that you can’t pit while you’re cooking. There’s a reason you’re in the kitchen.
  • 4 Tbsp capers. Capers are the picked bud of the caper bush. You’ll find them wherever you find pickles and olives in your supermarket, usually in tall little bottles.
  • Handful of fresh Italian (flat-leaf) parsley. There is a fair amount of difference in taste from the curly American variety, but use what you can get. If you don’t have fresh, skip it. The dried stuff is just pretty, and doesn’t provide any useful flavor.
  • Salt and freshly-ground black pepper to taste
  • Freshly-grated Parmagianno-Reggiano cheese (optional)
Method
  1. Heat the pasta water. When it boils, add salt and the pasta and stir occasionally to keep the strands from sticking. Set your strainer in the sink now so its ready when the pasta is done.
  2. Meanwhile, heat the oil in a medium skillet over medium heat. When its hot, add the onion and sautee the onions for five minutes, stirring occasionally until the onion is soft and translucent.
  3. Add the chopped garlic, stirring, and cooking for about a minute, and the anchovies if you must. If you skipped the onion, be sure the oil isn’t too hot or the garic will brown instead of sweating, and your dish will have a nasty taste. I’ve burned enough garlic at this point to know… ;-)
  4. Add the tomatoes, olives, and capers. Stir occasionally, and cook for five minutes or so, or until the tomatoes are fairly cooked and the sauce is somewhat saucy. Add salt (it needs at least 1 tsp, you may want more) and black pepper to taste.
  5. The pasta will finish at some point during this as good spaghetti takes 8-9 minutes. Reserve one cup of the pasta water before draining.
  6. Add the pasta to the sauce, or vice-versa, depending on your pan size. Add the chopped parsley, and toss to combine. Add some of the pasta water if the sauce is dry.
  7. Serve immediately. This dish is typically not served with cheese, but I like it anyways.