Pasta L’uva with Gorgonzola

May. Anniversary month again. Thirty-four years. Rosetta and I celebrated on Saturday — the seared ribeyes, the kitchen table, the two of us, the dance, the words. "Thirty-four years, Earl." "The best thirty-four years of my life." "They better be." The script doesn't change because the truth doesn't change, and the truth is that this woman is the best thing that ever happened to me, after the smoker, and I'm only putting the smoker first because Rosetta would expect me to and the expectation is part of the joke and the joke is part of the love.

I added the smoked gouda mac and cheese again — the hit from Valentine's Day — because Rosetta asked for it, and when Rosetta asks for something twice, it becomes tradition, and tradition in this house is law. We ate by candlelight (Dollar General candles, still), and the mac and cheese was even better the second time because I'd adjusted the recipe: more gouda, less flour, a touch of smoked paprika in the breadcrumb topping. The improvement was subtle but real, the way the improvement in a marriage is subtle but real — not a dramatic change, just a deepening, a refinement, a getting-better-at-the-thing-you-were-already-good-at.

Monday was Rosetta's half-marathon day — her second, Memphis again, and she trained through the winter with the discipline I admire and cannot replicate. She finished in 2:14, four minutes faster than last year, and I held the poster and cheered and watched her cross the finish line and thought: Fifty-seven years old, faster than last year, stronger than last year, more beautiful than last year. How does she do that? How does she get better while the rest of us just get older? I don't know. But I'm grateful to be married to whatever kind of miracle she is.

I made a big pot of jambalaya for the post-race meal — Darlene's recipe, the one with my own andouille, spicy and warm and filling. Rosetta ate two bowls, which is the running equivalent of carb-loading in reverse and the culinary equivalent of a standing ovation. I am fifty-nine years old, carrying a bad knee and a blood pressure prescription, and I am married to a woman who runs half-marathons and eats my jambalaya, and if that's not a reason to keep showing up, I don't know what is.

Between the smoked gouda mac and cheese and the jambalaya, there’s a version of me that lives entirely inside a pot of something warm and cheesy — and I’m not ashamed of it. Pasta L’uva with Gorgonzola hits that same nerve the mac and cheese does: bold, unapologetic cheese energy, with just enough sweetness from the grapes to make you feel like you planned something sophisticated. If Rosetta asks for this one twice, it becomes law — and at this rate, I give it one dinner.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz pappardelle or tagliatelle pasta
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 shallots, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 cups red seedless grapes, halved
1/3 cup dry white wine
3/4 cup heavy cream
5 oz gorgonzola dolce, crumbled (plus more for serving)
1/2 cup toasted walnuts, roughly chopped
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
Salt and freshly cracked black pepper to taste
Fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for garnish
1/2 cup reserved pasta cooking water

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of heavily salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Before draining, reserve 1/2 cup of pasta cooking water. Drain and set aside.
Soften the shallots. In a large skillet over medium heat, melt butter with olive oil. Add shallots and cook, stirring occasionally, for 4—5 minutes until softened and translucent. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more.
Blister the grapes. Increase heat to medium-high. Add the halved grapes to the skillet and cook undisturbed for 2—3 minutes until they begin to blister and release their juices. Stir once and cook 1 minute more.
Deglaze with wine. Pour in the white wine and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Let the wine reduce by half, about 2 minutes.
Build the cream sauce. Reduce heat to medium-low. Stir in the heavy cream and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook for 3—4 minutes until slightly thickened. Add the crumbled gorgonzola and stir until mostly melted and incorporated into the sauce.
Combine with pasta. Add the drained pasta directly to the skillet and toss to coat, adding reserved pasta water a splash at a time as needed to loosen the sauce to your preferred consistency.
Finish and season. Stir in the fresh thyme leaves and season generously with salt and cracked black pepper. Taste and adjust — gorgonzola is salty, so go easy on added salt until you’ve tasted it.
Serve. Divide among bowls and top with toasted walnuts, extra crumbled gorgonzola, and a scatter of fresh parsley. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pasta L’uva with Gorgonzola — The Cheese Course Rosetta Didn’t Know She Needed