Welcome to Buona Domenica, a weekly newsletter of Italian home cooking and baking. I’m a journalist, cooking teacher, occasional tour guide, and author of eight cookbooks on Italian cuisine.
This week I am writing to you from Abruzzo, Italy, where I will be based for the next couple of months. I’ll be sharing recipes for what I’m cooking in my little kitchen in Penne. But there’s also a fair bit of research travel on my agenda, so you can expect some travel-related posts as well.
This week’s newsletter features a recipe for all subscribers for Spaghetti al Pomodoro, a classic dish of Italian home cooking that originated in Naples but is now appreciated all over the world.
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On to the newsletter…
Last week, T, the New York Times Style magazine published a tasty travel issue devoted to pasta. Among the articles was one about the possible origins and growing popularity of agnolotti del plin, a stuffed pasta from Piemonte that takes the form of a neat, plump little envelope or packet. Another offered an enticing and curiously subjective list of the “25 essential pasta dishes to eat in Italy,” a selection of (alas) primarily northern choices with some Campania and Sicily sprinkled in, compiled by a small army of chefs, food writers, and other Italian food experts. A third article took a delicious dive into the two components of one of Italy’s most iconic dishes, Pasta al Pomodoro: tomatoes grown on the slopes of the Monte Lattari, south of Naples; and dried pasta made in nearby Gragnano.
One of the people featured in the piece on pasta al pomodoro was Sabato (Sabatino) Abagnale, a small producer of canned San Marzano tomatoes. I was happy to see Sabatino and his wife, Concetta, a professor at the University of Naples, getting the attention they deserve for their part in preserving traditional methods of growing and processing a prized heirloom variety of the San Marzano, with a focus on quality rather than volume. Sabatino was among the food artisans I profiled for my 2016 book Preserving Italy. I was introduced to him through Beatrice Ughi, founder of Gustiamo, which imports and sells his tomatoes.
It seems like a good time to reprint the profile here, since quite a few years have passed since the book was published and there’s a good chance that most of you haven’t read the piece. Enjoy!
PRESERVING TOMATOES AND TRADITIONS
(originally published 2016)
It’s hard to keep up with Sabato Abagnale. For one thing, he is a tall guy, with long legs and strides to match. For another, it seems he is being propelled forward by the unstoppable force of his own enthusiasm.
I follow him through rows of staked vines on a steep, terraced hillside across the valley from Mt. Vesuvius, south of Naples. He stops and parts a curtain of prickly green leaves to show me the subject of his ardor: tomatoes. They aren’t ripe yet and won’t be for another month. Still, I can tell from their elongated teardrop shape and pointed end that they are the famed San Marzano variety, sweet and meaty and purported to make the best sauce in the world. These are called antico pomodoro di Napoli, a variety of San Marzano—but better, Abagnale says, because they are not cultivated for industrial production.
This is a subject about which Abagnale knows a lot. He grew up right down the hill from these tomatoes, in Sant’Antonio Abate, a gritty suburb of Naples, where he still lives. He comes from a family of large-scale tomato producers and used to be in the business himself. About 15 years ago, he made a switch after becoming disillusioned with the process.
“Industrial machines ruin tomatoes,” he says. “So producers cultivate tomatoes with thicker skins and less juice. That’s progress? I decided that I had to go backward.”
Abagnale started experimenting with family heirloom seeds, saving and propagating the best specimens. He and his wife, Concetta D’Anillo, a professor of industrial chemistry at the University of Naples, began working with the Slow Food Foundation for Biodiversity, which supports efforts to preserve local plant varieties and traditional processing methods around the world. Now they run a local Slow Food office in Sant’Antonio Abate, where they produce and sell high-quality canned and bottled whole tomatoes, pomodorini (small tomatoes), and tomatoe purée.
It took awhile, Abagnale says, to establish his small company. “For the first three or four years the only thing I brought home was poetry,” he jokes, using a local expression. Supermarkets were not interested in canned artisanal tomatoes. Now he sells to chefs and international food importers such as New York-based Gustiamo. But the business remains small by design. Abagnale collaborates with about a dozen farmers who grow his tomatoes on the 7 1/2 acres of the lower slopes of the Monti Lattari, the mountain range to the south of Vesuvius. The soil, the breeze from the nearby Mediterranean Sea, and the cooler mountain air all contribute to the quality of the crops grown here.
“Agriculture was what our grandparents did,” Abagnale says. It was the economic foundation of this area until 40 years ago, when industrialization took hold and people began to abandon the countryside. We want to revive the agricultural economy and traditions as a way of building a future of our children. Sometimes we have to go back to go forward.”
(Reprinted from Preserving Italy: Canning, Curing, Infusing, and Bottling Italian Flavors and Traditions; Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2016)
Readers and cooks: What are your favorite tomatoes for sauce?
RECIPE: Spaghetti al Pomodoro
Italians pride themselves on their emphatically regional cuisine. But if a national dish did exist, it might be pasta al pomodoro.
After all, what is more Italian than a nice dish of spaghetti or rigatoni tossed with fresh tomato sauce, perfumed with basil, and garnished with a shower of Parmigiano cheese? Not only does pasta al pomodoro contain all those quintessentially Italian ingredients, but it also comprises the colors of the Italian flag.
Although it is embraced by Italians everywhere, pasta al pomodoro originated in Naples. This makes perfect sense; after all, Naples is where dried pasta originated, in the 19th century. And it is also where San Marzano tomatoes, widely considered to be the best tomatoes for sauce, are grown.
A recent New York Times piece on pasta al pomodoro singled out Faella, a small producer of high-quality dried pasta made in Gragnano. You can find Faella online through Gustiamo. Other high-quality brands I like are Rustichella d’Abruzzo and Giuseppe Cocco, both produced in Abruzzo; and La Molisana, produced in Molise.
Spaghetti al Pomodoro is the first pasta dish I learned to make growing up, and it’s still one of my preferred comfort foods.
Makes 4 to 6 servings
INGREDIENTS
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 clove garlic, lightly crushed
Pinch of crushed red pepper (optional)
One 28-ounce (793 g) can whole peeled tomatoes
Fine sea salt
1 branch fresh basil, plus a handful (5) fresh basil leaves; or 10 fresh basil leaves
1 pound (500 g) spaghetti or other packaged pasta
Freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, for serving
INSTRUCTIONS
1. Heat the oil and garlic in a large saucepan over medium-low heat until the garlic begins to sizzle, about 2 minutes. Press down on it to release its flavor but don’t let it brown. Stir in a pinch of crushed red pepper. Remove and discard the garlic or leave it in—your choice.
2. Pour in the tomatoes and their juice. Watch for spatters as the tomatoes hit the oil. Use a potato masher or sturdy wooden spoon or silicon spatula to break up the tomatoes. Season with 1/2 teaspoon salt and raise the heat to medium-high. Bring the tomatoes to a boil, then lower the heat to medium-low or low to maintain a very gentle simmer. Cover the pan partially with a lid and cook, stirring every now and then, for 35 to 40 minutes, until the tomatoes have darkened in color and the sauce has thickened. The oil should be pooling on the surface. If the sauce thickens too much before it tastes done, add a splash of water. When it’s finished cooking, turn off the heat and let sit for 10 minutes to cool.
3. This is optional for those who (like me) generally prefer a smoother sauce. Transfer the sauce to a food mill fitted with the disk with the smallest holes and pass the tomatoes through the mill into a bowl. Or, press the tomatoes through a sieve or strainer to make a smooth sauce. Return the sauce to the pan and add another pinch of salt, if needed. Stir in the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Lay a branch of basil on top of the sauce and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Or scatter about 5 basil leaves into the pan. Stir the sauce (the basil will wilt into the sauce) and cook gently for about 15 minutes, until infused with the flavor of the basil. Turn off the heat and remove and discard the branch of basil and the garlic, if not already discarded. Tear up and add a few more fresh basil leaves if you like. Cover the pan to keep the sauce warm.
4. Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil and salt it generously. Drop in the pasta and cook according to the package instructions until just al dente. Use a pasta fork, tongs, or a skimmer to transfer the pasta directly to the pan with the sauce. Add a splash of starchy cooking water and turn the heat under the pan on to low. Cook, tossing pasta and sauce together, for about 2 minutes, or until the noodles are cooked and well coated with the sauce.
5. Transfer the pasta to a serving bowl or individual bowls and spoon any sauce left in the pan on top. Sprinkle with Parmigiano cheese and serve.
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PICTURE ITALY: Abruzzo, 2024
As always, thank you for reading, subscribing, and sharing.
Alla prossima,
Domenica
As I slowly become ancient, I find myself turning more and more to beautiful, simple dishes like this. And heroin.
So great to see old traditions of preserving the wonderful San Marzano tomatoes being carried on. I’ve bought canned varieties here and not always been impressed. I might need to try ordering them from one of the producers you suggest. Looking forward to trying this recipe and hearing more from your little kitchen in Abruzzo. Thanks, Domenica!