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Orecchiette Pasta with Tomatoes — When the Simplest Things Are the Best Things

Luc's first month of high school report: he likes it. He LIKES it. The science classes are harder. The math classes are harder. The hallways are bigger and louder and full of people who shave, which Luc does not yet need to do but is clearly thinking about based on the way he examines his upper lip in the bathroom mirror every morning. He's joined the math team, which I didn't know was a thing but which apparently involves competitions and tournaments and the same parent-in-the-bleachers dynamic as baseball but with calculators instead of bats.

Made a crab cake dinner — real crab cakes, lump crabmeat, barely bound, pan-fried in butter. The key to a crab cake is restraint: less filler, more crab. The crab should be the star, not the breadcrumbs. A handful of Panko, an egg, some Dijon, Old Bay, green onion — just enough to hold it together, not so much that you're eating a breadcrumb cake with crab flavoring. Seared in butter until golden on each side, served with a remoulade and lemon. Danielle said they were restaurant-quality. I said restaurants charge $28 for these and I made them for $12. She said, "You should open a restaurant." I said, "I have a business." She said, "You have a calling." She says things like that. Romantic things. Accurate things. I married right.

The crab cake dinner was Danielle’s favorite — she’ll probably still be talking about it when Luc is on the math team in college — but the philosophy behind it is the one I come back to every time I cook: restraint, quality, and letting the main ingredient do the work. This orecchiette with tomatoes is built on the same principle. A handful of good ingredients, handled correctly, and dinner becomes something that feels like more than the sum of its parts — which, honestly, is what I’d say about this whole season with our family right now.

Orecchiette Pasta with Tomatoes

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

Ingredients

  • 12 oz orecchiette pasta
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
  • 1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
  • 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
  • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/3 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
  • 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
  • 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
  • 1/4 cup reserved pasta water

Instructions

  1. Salt and boil. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Salt it generously — it should taste like the sea. Add the orecchiette and cook according to package directions until al dente, about 10–11 minutes. Before draining, scoop out at least 1/2 cup of pasta water and set aside.
  2. Build the sauce. While the pasta cooks, heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the garlic and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring, until the garlic is fragrant and just beginning to turn golden, about 2 minutes. Do not let it burn.
  3. Add the tomatoes. Add the cherry tomatoes to the skillet along with the salt and black pepper. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes have softened and begun to release their juices, about 6–8 minutes. Press a few gently with the back of a spoon to help them along.
  4. Combine. Drain the pasta and add it directly to the skillet. Pour in 1/4 cup of the reserved pasta water and add the butter. Toss everything together over medium heat for 1–2 minutes until the sauce clings to the pasta and the butter is fully incorporated. Add more pasta water as needed to loosen.
  5. Finish and serve. Remove from heat. Stir in the torn basil and half the Parmesan. Divide into bowls and top with the remaining Parmesan. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 60g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 380mg

Tommy Beaumont
About the cook who shared this
Tommy Beaumont
Week 118 of Tommy’s 30-year story · Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Tommy is a Cajun electrician from Thibodaux, Louisiana, who lost his home to Hurricane Katrina four months after his wedding and rebuilt his life one roux at a time. He grew up on Bayou Lafourche, fishing with his father Joey at dawn and eating his mother's gumbo by dusk. His crawfish boils draw the whole neighborhood, his boudin is made from scratch, and he stirs his roux the way Joey taught him — dark as chocolate, forty-five minutes, no shortcuts. Laissez les bons temps rouler.

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