Equal Parts

In my mind, a noodle is no different than a piece of toast. Both start simply as flour, and are then kneaded into a dough distinguished only by its quantity of liquid (such as water or eggs) and the addition of yeast. Both are given time to rest, then one is shaped and baked, and the other is rolled and boiled. In the end, both are a blank slate for a myriad of toppings, spreads, sauces, and mix-ins. The infinite possibility is why nearly every day I enjoy a piece of toast with peanut butter or rhubarb compote, eggs or tomatoes, mushrooms or garlic or beans and greens. It begs the question, why don’t I also feature pasta so prominently?

All I want when I feel sick is a bowl of butter noodles topped with parmesan, salt, and pepper. For me, pasta is the purest comfort food, but not in the narrow, cultural definition of comfort food as a cheesy, creamy, heavy, time-for-a-nap indulgence. Butter noodles literally make me feel better in the most physical sense, more energetic and healthy and well.

Of course, for many, pasta is seen as a decadent dish to reserve only for special occasions. To each their own, but I firmly feel the opposite. In her book Happy Cooking, Giada talks about this dual interpretation of pasta as comfort food, in both the genuine and cynical sense. She writes, “It makes me sad that so many people consider pasta the enemy, something to be indulged in only occasionally and atoned for afterward.”

How can something so humble, essentially just flour, be considered bad?

Indeed, if I douse my noodles in cups of heavy cream and a block of shredded cheese, and I supersize my portion, I might get a stomachache, but that’s just me. Probably not with a bowl of linguine and a sauce of leafy greens, or tomatoes and garlic, or olive oil and mixed vegetables. Again, pasta is not a problem.

Anyway, for years our go-to pasta has been Jeff’s spicy pesto fusilli. Only recently we have interrupted that streak with an orecchiette with goat cheese, mushrooms, and artichoke hearts. But now there is a new contender: a baked rigatoni with lots of spinach, some asparagus, and a relatively little amount of cheese (at least as compared to the most popular baked pasta, lasagna). Jeff found it early last week in the Wall Street Journal, next to the Dow Jones Industrial Average and reports on consumer spending. We made it on Friday, after demo-ing the shelving unit in the mudroom, had leftovers on Saturday, after spackling the walls, and are planning another batch next week, say, Tuesday, when perhaps I will have some paint samples up.

SPRING BAKED PASTA, inspired by Eleanore Park, The Wall Street Journal

You’ll need:
1 lb rigatoni (or penne)
8 cups baby spinach (10 ounces)
1/2 cup arugula
1/2 cup parsley
1 cup olive oil
3/4 pound asparagus, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
8 oz mozzarella, torn into pieces (we used half mozzarella, half ricotta)
1 cup half-and-half
1/4 cup grated parmesan
Salt and Pepper

Heat oven to 350.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and cook the pasta until very al dente, 3 minutes less than the package instructions. (It will continue cooking when baked.) Drain and run under cold water to stop cooking.

Meanwhile, use a food processor to blend the spinach, arugula, parsley, and olive oil until very smooth. (I added the greens and olive oil in thirds, briefly running the food processor after each addition to make room for the next addition.) Season with salt and pepper, then pour into a large bowl.

Add the pasta and asparagus to the large bowl and toss to combine.

Transfer half of the pasta mixture to a large baking dish or skillet. Sprinkle half of the mozzarella over the surface. Add the rest of the pasta mixture, then the rest of the mozzarella. Pour half-and-half all over, then transfer to the oven. Bake for 30 minutes.

Remove the skillet from the oven and turn on the broiler. Sprinkle the parmesan across the top of the dish, then cook under the broiler for 2-3 minutes, until the cheese is browned in spots.

Let cool for 10 minutes, then dig in!