Pasta al Forno -- The August Table, and What It Taught Us

Something I didn't expect about being married: the way weekends change. When you live alone, the weekend is yours to negotiate with yourself — you can be active or inactive, social or solitary, and the only person you're answering to is your own mood. When you live with someone you love, the weekend becomes a collaboration. What does he want to do? What do I want to do? Where do those overlap? Where do they not, and how do we handle that? We are still in the early phase of this negotiation, which means we are occasionally both agreeable to things the other wants even when we'd rather do something else, because we haven't yet learned to say "actually, I'd rather do this other thing" without an undertow of guilt.

We are learning. Sunday Sean D. wanted to watch a documentary about the Civil War and I wanted to go to the farmers' market and we did both, in sequence, without it being a problem, and I thought: this is the skill. The skill is doing both, in sequence, without it being a problem. We have the skill. We are practicing it.

At the farmers' market I bought: heirloom tomatoes (four kinds), fresh herbs, a loaf of sourdough, and a small jar of local honey that reminded me of Patricia's honey and made me think about her, as it always does. I hope she's well. I'll see her in three weeks for a follow-up appointment and I'll ask. That's the thing about oncology — the people stay with you even after the treatment ends. You think about them on Saturday mornings at the farmers' market. You think about them while you're buying honey.

Made tomato and bread salad Sunday — panzanella, with the heirloom tomatoes and the sourdough and fresh basil and olive oil and red wine vinegar. It is the single best thing you can make with August tomatoes, which are the best thing of the summer, which makes it the best thing of the whole year. Sean D. ate it and said nothing, which is his highest compliment. He saves words for when he means them.

The panzanella was Sunday’s meal, but the heirloom tomatoes I brought home from the market had more to say — and a few days later, they said it in this pasta. Pasta al Forno is what I reach for when I want something that feels like a full-effort dinner but actually just requires good tomatoes and a little patience: exactly the kind of cooking that fits a life you’re still figuring out how to share. Sean D. ate two portions and said three words, which is practically a standing ovation.

Pasta al Forno (Baked Pasta with Tomatoes and Mozzarella)

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 12 oz rigatoni or penne pasta
• 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
• 1 can (28 oz) crushed tomatoes
• 1 lb fresh heirloom tomatoes, roughly chopped
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, torn, plus more to finish
• 8 oz fresh mozzarella, torn into bite-sized pieces
• 1/2 cup whole-milk ricotta cheese
• 1/2 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, divided

Instructions

1. Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 400°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with olive oil and set aside.
2. Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil. Cook pasta until 2 minutes shy of al dente according to package directions. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water, then drain the pasta and set aside.
3. Build the sauce. While pasta cooks, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large skillet or saucepan over medium heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring, until fragrant and just golden, about 2 minutes. Add the crushed tomatoes, fresh heirloom tomatoes, red pepper flakes, oregano, salt, and black pepper. Stir to combine and simmer over medium-low heat for 12–15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until slightly thickened.
4. Combine. Remove the sauce from heat. Add the drained pasta and torn basil to the skillet and toss well to coat, adding a splash of reserved pasta water if the mixture looks tight. Stir in 1/4 cup of the Parmesan.
5. Assemble the bake. Transfer the pasta and sauce to the prepared baking dish and spread into an even layer. Tuck the torn mozzarella pieces throughout and dot the surface with spoonfuls of ricotta. Drizzle with the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil and scatter the remaining 1/4 cup Parmesan evenly over the top.
6. Bake. Bake uncovered for 20–25 minutes, until the cheese is melted and bubbling and the edges are beginning to turn golden. For extra color on top, broil on high for the final 2–3 minutes, watching closely.
7. Rest and serve. Let the pasta rest for 5 minutes before serving. Scatter fresh basil over the top and serve directly from the baking dish.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 445 | Protein: 19g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 57g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 540mg