one-pan ditalini and peas

Until recently, I was fairly ambivalent about one-pan pasta recipes. I appreciate them in a pinch [here’sa longtime favorite; andthisis my total comfort food], but I sometimes find that when the pasta is cooked in a sauce the whole time, it doesn’t quite get thatal dentedefinition and structural integrity that it does when cooked in water. I’m so glad I didn’t quit on them, though, because with this recipe, not to be dramatic or anything, but I feel like I’ve finally cracked the code.

What’s the secret? It’smostlywater. I know, I know, I can hear* your eye roll from here. What I mean is, the one-pan pastas that work the best spend most of their cooking time in the element that cooks them best. And the magic — the flavor, the complexity — is in the layering that you do before and after. Before, we’re cooking garlic in a puddle of olive oil and/or butter. If you’re into crispy bits of salami in your pasta, you make them here and save them for the end. Then we add the water or broth, just enough that you’ll have a small puddle left in the pan to build your sauce upon. Two minutes before the pasta is done, we are dumping in an entire bag of frozen peas — hear hear for no measuring! One minute later, we add some cream. At the end, we finish it with parmesan, the crispy salami (if using), lemon zest, and some extra pepper flakes and mint, and this is where I stop resisting being dramatic.

I can’t stop. I’ve made this, and variations on it, more times for lunch and dinner in the last month than I’m even willing to admit here, a safe space where I can admit such things. It’s cozy and quick and because everything happens in one pot, there’s almost no mess to clean up, but it still tastes complex and fussed-over. The peas are perfectly cooked little pops of sweetness and they’re an ideal forkful match for the ditalini. The sauce is silky but unheavy; the crispy salami a heavenly accent. Come, make it an embarrassing amount of times with me.

* Having a teenager means, regretfully, these senses are heightened. Having a teenager also means that when I rolled my eyes at a certain antic at dinner last night, I was informed that my eyeroll was “weird” and “mostly on one side and then the other one follows after” and I should “practice it a little” — new complex just dropped, thanks kids!

This Braiser!While I’m usually loyal to my original circa 2014 black matte braiser — sleek! fashionable! — this time I couldn’t resist the deep, deep blue limited editionStaub x Smitten Kitchen Braiserwe have in this spring, in case you spotted it here. My obsession with this pan grows every year. The story of this pan, and partnership, is that I bought my original braiser over a decade ago and when Staub stopped selling them in the US,I asked if they could bring them back. From there, theStaub x Smitten Kitchen Braiserwas born. I find it to be the perfect size for 75% of the food I cook (stovetop, oven, oh and it’s dishwasher-safe too), which is whyyou see it so often on this site. I hope you love it too.Video

This Braiser!While I’m usually loyal to my original circa 2014 black matte braiser — sleek! fashionable! — this time I couldn’t resist the deep, deep blue limited editionStaub x Smitten Kitchen Braiserwe have in this spring, in case you spotted it here. My obsession with this pan grows every year. The story of this pan, and partnership, is that I bought my original braiser over a decade ago and when Staub stopped selling them in the US,I asked if they could bring them back. From there, theStaub x Smitten Kitchen Braiserwas born. I find it to be the perfect size for 75% of the food I cook (stovetop, oven, oh and it’s dishwasher-safe too), which is whyyou see it so often on this site. I hope you love it too.

Video