Fettuccine alla Papalina

The garden is talking again and this week it said: basil. The basil I planted three weeks ago has taken off like it's in a race, the leaves fat and bright green and fragrant enough to smell from the porch. I went out Wednesday evening after the kitchen cooled down and I picked a whole colander full, and the smell on my hands — baby, there is no perfume in this world that compares to basil on warm skin. It smells like summer before summer arrives. It smells like promise.

I made pesto. Now, I know pesto is Italian and I am a Lowcountry cook and those two things don't usually share a sentence, but I learned to make pesto from a cooking show on television ten years ago and I have been making it ever since because good food does not have a passport. Basil, garlic, pine nuts (or pecans, because pine nuts cost what they cost and I am not a Rockefeller), Parmesan cheese, olive oil. Blend it up. Toss it with pasta. The whole kitchen turns green and smells like a garden that got promoted.

Earl looked at the pesto and said, "What is that?" I said, "Pesto." He said, "I don't eat green things on my noodles." I said, "Earl, you eat collard greens every week. Those are green things." He said, "Collards are different." I said, "How?" He said, "They're ours." I served him pesto on spaghetti and he ate the entire bowl and did not compliment it, which from Earl means he liked it but will not give me the satisfaction of saying so. Forty-one years. I can read that man like large print.

At school, we had a lice scare in the second grade, which meant I had to disinfect every surface in the cafeteria that a second-grader might have touched, which is everything. Big Mike and I spent two hours after lunch wiping down tables and chairs and trays with the dedication of people who have seen lice before and do not intend to see them again. The things they don't tell you about working in a school kitchen: it's not just cooking. It's public health, child psychology, inventory management, and occasionally, pest control.

Kayla called Thursday. She's doing well — she got an A on her pharmacology exam and she was so excited she was talking faster than I could listen, which is saying something because I have been listening to fast-talking grandchildren for twenty-three years. She asked if she could bring a friend home for the weekend. I said, "What kind of friend?" She said, "A friend friend, Grandma." I said, "Kayla, I was born in 1955 but I was not born yesterday. Is this friend a boy?" She went quiet. Then she said, "His name is Travis." Same Travis from July. I said, "Does he eat?" She said yes. I said, "Then bring him."

Now go on and feed somebody.

That pesto on spaghetti got me thinking about all the Italian pasta dishes I’ve made over the years that started as something foreign and ended up feeling like mine — and this Fettuccine alla Papalina is exactly that kind of recipe. It’s Roman, it’s creamy, it’s got ham and peas and Parmesan folded into egg-rich sauce, and the first time I made it, Earl didn’t ask what it was because he was already halfway through the bowl. With Travis coming to visit and Kayla on her way home, I want something on the table that says “you are welcome here” without me having to say a word — and a plate of this says it just fine.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz fettuccine
4 oz prosciutto cotto or good deli ham, diced into small cubes
1/2 cup frozen peas
3 large eggs
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 small yellow onion, finely diced
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
Salt and freshly cracked black pepper to taste
Reserved pasta water, about 1/2 cup

Instructions

Whisk the sauce base. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, heavy cream, grated Parmesan, and nutmeg until smooth. Set aside. This is your sauce — don’t skip the whisking or it will scramble instead of silk up.
Boil the pasta. Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Cook the fettuccine according to package directions until just al dente. Before draining, scoop out at least 1/2 cup of the starchy pasta water and set it aside. Drain the pasta.
Cook the ham and onion. While the pasta cooks, melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring, until soft and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the ham and cook another 2 minutes until the edges just start to color.
Add the peas. Stir the frozen peas into the skillet and cook 1 to 2 minutes until warmed through. Keep the heat at medium — you want the pan warm but not scorching when the eggs go in.
Combine pasta and sauce. Add the drained fettuccine directly to the skillet and remove the pan from the heat. Pour the egg and cream mixture over the pasta and toss constantly, adding splashes of reserved pasta water a little at a time, until the sauce coats every strand in a creamy, glossy ribbon. The residual heat does the cooking — keep tossing and it will come together in about 60 to 90 seconds.
Season and serve. Taste for salt, then add a generous amount of cracked black pepper. Divide among warm bowls and top with additional Parmesan. Serve immediately — this one does not wait.

Nutrition (per serving)

Fettuccine alla Papalina — Because Good Food Doesn’t Need a Passport