Pasta Puttanesca
So, About This Wildly Flavorful Pasta Puttanesca…
Hey! If you’re reading this, you probably either love a good, noisy pasta dish or, like me, just got blindsided by an army of anchovies and capers in your pantry. My first Puttanesca memory is, oddly enough, from a late Tuesday night when I had nothing but stubborn hunger and a slightly dodgy jar of olives. It was one of those should I really be eating this? moments—turned out to be one of my best late-night dinners. And honestly, if you can chop an onion without sobbing too much, you’re halfway there.
By the way, don’t get too hung up on doing everything by the book. I mean, who ever reads the book anyway? I once made this while half-watching an episode of The Great British Bake Off (not even a pasta show, but you get the idea). All I’m saying is, Puttanesca is forgiving. Saucy, punchy, just a bit messy—kind of like me after a long workday. Let’s get into it.
Why I Keep Coming Back to Puttanesca
I make this when my day’s gone haywire and I need a dinner that almost cooks itself. My family goes crazy for this because it’s got all the big, briny flavors—plus, nobody’s ever hungry after a bowl. (Except my brother, but he eats like a horse, so make extra if you’re feeding someone like that.) Also, it’s the one pasta where I don’t feel bad if I’m out of fresh herbs or fancy tomatoes. And, not gonna lie, the smell of garlic sizzling makes me feel like I actually know what I’m doing in the kitchen—even if I occasionally drop a spoon or two.)
What You’ll Need & What I Swap
- 400g (about 14oz) spaghetti or linguine (sometimes I use bucatini if that’s all I have—no rules police here)
- 3 tablespoons olive oil (cheap or fancy, both work but skip the really nasty supermarket stuff if you can)
- 4-5 anchovy fillets, chopped super fine (I swear you won’t taste the fish, just lovely umami vibes. Or skip for veggie, but it won’t be classic.)
- 3-4 cloves garlic, minced (sometimes I just smash them if I’m feeling lazy)
- 1 teaspoon chili flakes (or more if you like it wild—or nada if you’re timid; I won’t judge)
- 400g (14oz) canned chopped tomatoes (crushed tomatoes work too—Grandma insisted on San Marzano, but honestly, supermarket tins also get the job done)
- 100g (about a heaping handful) pitted black olives, sliced (kalamata or whatever’s lurking at the back of the fridge)
- 2 tablespoons capers, drained (I once used green olives instead when I ran out—definitely different, but not the end of the world)
- Fresh parsley, chopped (optional, and half the time I forget it anyway)
- Salt & black pepper, to taste
Let’s Cook—The Lazy & The Precise Way
- First, get that pasta water boiling—big pot, lots of salt. (Like, the sea-level kind of salty. I always forget and then wonder why my pasta tastes like nothing.)
- While that’s happening, heat the olive oil in a big pan over medium heat. Add chopped anchovies and garlic; let them melt a bit. And don’t be shy about scraping the bits stuck to the pan—that’s flavor, not a mess! (This is where I sneak a taste, every time… almost burnt my tongue last week.)
- Throw in those chili flakes, give it a swirl. If you’re not big on heat, start with less. You can always add more, but taking it out? Not so much. Learned that the hard way.
- Pour in the tomatoes, olives, and capers. Give everything a good stir. It’ll look a bit odd at first—kind of like a science experiment—but trust me, it all comes together in a few minutes. Let it bubble for about 10-12 minutes, stirring every so often.
- Meanwhile, cook your pasta till it’s just shy of done, then reserve a cup of the pasta water (I almost always forget this and, honestly, sometimes just use tap water in a pinch—it’s fine).
- Toss the drained pasta into the sauce, add a splash of pasta water, and toss everything together for a minute or two. You want the sauce to cling, not drown things. Taste—add salt and pepper, but remember the anchovies and capers are salty already.
- Scatter with fresh parsley if you’re feeling fancy, or just dive in as is. Serve hot. Or warm. Or cold, at midnight, straight from the fridge (no judgment).
Random Notes I’ve Picked Up (Usually the Hard Way)
- I once used green olives because I had no black—tasted fine but totally different personality. So, if you’re after “classic,” stick with black.
- The sauce can be made ahead and reheated; I actually think it tastes better the next day, after everything’s had a minute to become friends in the fridge.
- Don’t go too heavy on the salt until you’ve tasted at the end. Anchovies and capers can sneak up on you—it’s like seasoning roulette.
- If your sauce looks too thick, loosen it with more pasta water. Too thin? Just let it bubble a bit longer. No biggie.
Some Variations I’ve Messed With
- Sometimes I add a handful of cherry tomatoes right at the end for a burst of sweetness—it’s nice, especially in summer.
- I tried tossing in roasted red pepper once. Wasn’t my best idea. The flavors kind of argued with each other.
- If I’m out of anchovies, a splash of soy sauce gives a bit of that same richness. (Just a splash! Too much and it’s weird.)
- Once, in a fit of rebellion, I made it with penne. It works, but the sauce clings better to spaghetti, in my totally unscientific opinion.
Equipment: Use What You’ve Got (Really)
- Big frying pan or sauté pan (honestly, I’ve used a stockpot when it’s all that was clean)
- Large pot for pasta
- Colander (or just balance the lid and pray—done that more than once!)
- Sharp knife & chopping board
How To Store It (If You Have Any Left)
Just shove leftovers (if you’re lucky enough to have some) into a sealed container and keep in the fridge for up to 2 days. I think it tastes even better the next day, but honestly, in my house, it never lasts more than a day! For reheating, a splash of water and low heat does wonders. Microwaves work too, if you’re in a rush—just stir halfway through.
Serving Suggestions (Or How We Eat It)
My favorite way to serve this? Just a big bowl, maybe with a hunk of crusty bread to mop up the sauce. Sometimes I’ll do a simple green salad on the side, if I’m pretending to be a grown up. For a bigger crowd, I’ll put the pan right in the middle of the table and let everyone dig in. (My cousin once topped it with a fried egg—sounds odd, but pretty tasty if you’re into that sort of thing.)
Things I’ve Learned The Hard Way (Pro Tips, Sort Of)
- Don’t rush the garlic and anchovy step—it needs a couple minutes to mellow out. I once tried to speed things up and ended up with burnt garlic. Trust me, you don’t want that bitterness.
- If you forget to reserve pasta water, don’t panic. A splash of regular hot water is totally fine. (Or, on second thought, just be a bit more organized than me.)
- Let the sauce sit for a few minutes before tossing with the pasta—it seems to taste better, no clue why.
Quick FAQ (Because You Actually Asked)
Q: Can I skip the anchovies?
A: Yep, though you’ll miss out on some of the signature flavor. If you’re veggie, just use extra olives or maybe a dash of miso paste for umami. (Tried it, was fine!)
Q: Is it super spicy?
A: Only if you want it to be. Adjust those chili flakes to your heart’s content—or skip entirely if Aunt Betty’s coming to dinner and thinks ketchup is too spicy.
Q: What if I only have green olives?
A: Go for it! It’s a bit less classic, a bit more zingy. I’ve done it, lived to tell the tale. But if you have black—use those.
Q: Can I make it gluten-free?
A: For sure. Grab your favorite gluten-free pasta. Everything else is naturally GF (unless you use soy sauce for the umami boost—go for tamari then, or just skip).
If you want to learn a bit more about the history (and lore!) of Puttanesca, I love this quirky write-up from Saveur. Or if you want to really nerd out on anchovy varieties, check out Serious Eats’ anchovy taste test. Just don’t blame me if you end up with six different tins in your cupboard next week.
There you have it—my (slightly chaotic) guide to Pasta Puttanesca. If you ever figure out how to keep the olives from rolling off the counter, please let me know.
Ingredients
- 400 g spaghetti
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 6 anchovy fillets, chopped
- 1/2 teaspoon red chili flakes
- 400 g canned chopped tomatoes
- 80 g black olives, pitted and sliced
- 2 tablespoons capers, drained
- Salt and black pepper, to taste
- Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish
Instructions
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1Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the spaghetti according to package instructions until al dente. Drain and set aside.
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2Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add minced garlic, anchovy fillets, and red chili flakes. Sauté for 2-3 minutes until fragrant and anchovies dissolve.
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3Add the chopped tomatoes to the skillet. Simmer for 8-10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce thickens slightly.
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4Stir in the black olives and capers. Cook for another 2-3 minutes. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.
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5Add the drained spaghetti to the sauce and toss well to combine. Cook for 1-2 minutes to let the flavors meld.
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6Serve hot, garnished with chopped fresh parsley.
Approximate Information for One Serving
Nutrition Disclaimers
Number of total servings shown is approximate. Actual number of servings will depend on your preferred portion sizes.
Nutritional values shown are general guidelines and reflect information for 1 serving using the ingredients listed, not including any optional ingredients. Actual macros may vary slightly depending on specific brands and types of ingredients used.
To determine the weight of one serving, prepare the recipe as instructed. Weigh the finished recipe, then divide the weight of the finished recipe (not including the weight of the container the food is in) by the desired number of servings. Result will be the weight of one serving.
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