Pasta, along with porridge, baked potatoes and toasted crumpets is, in this kitchen at least, the ultimate winter food. That goes for not just Italian pasta but also Chinese and Japanese noodles. Few suppers are quite so quick to bring colour back to our frozen cheeks as a dish of pasta and mushroom stew or a bowl of pork broth with noodles and greens. I add small pasta such as trofie or cavatelli to fry-ups of sausage and sour cabbage, ribbons of wide pappardelle to fried artichokes, and dress thick Shanghai noodles with spicy pastes of sesame, garlic and soy.
An aromatic stew of mushrooms and marsala could have dumplings floating on its shimmering surface, but I often introduce pasta instead, shells or caps that will hold the sauce in their hollows. A fistful of noodles adds sustenance to deep, umami-rich broths made with roasted bones to create a meal in a bowl, and even a quick deli-based supper of preserved artichokes and grated parmesan becomes deeply satisfying once we introduce a tangle of wide ribbon pasta.
This collection is of warming, deeply satisfying dishes for winter nights. You can spend hours simmering bones for a broth or have a flash-feast of salty, peppery noodles ready in minutes. The choice is yours. What they all have in common is their capacity to keep out the cold.
Pappardelle with artichokes and lemon (pictured above)
The pasta supper I make over and over again is the one that involves a 10-minute trip to the deli on the way home to pick up lemons, basil and some of those preserved artichokes in oil. The loose ones are usually larger than those in jars but both are good. I then warm the artichokes in a little olive oil (the stuff they come in is best drained off and replaced with something more delicious), then I toss them with the chopped herbs, lemon and grated parmesan before introducing wide ribbons of pappardelle. It takes all of 10 minutes, the artichokes being ready in the time the pasta takes to cook. A pinch of dried chilli flakes added to them as they warm is good here too.
Serves 2
dried pappardelle 125g
bottled artichoke hearts 250g
lemon 1
parsley 6 bushy sprigs
basil leaves 10g
parmesan 6 tbsp, grated
olive oil 1 tbsp
Cook the pappardelle in deep, salted boiling water till tender, about 4-5 minutes. While the pasta cooks, drain the artichokes, and if they are not already cut in half then do so. Finely grate the zest from the lemon.
Remove the leaves from the parsley and basil, roughly chop both and mix together with the lemon zest. Sprinkle the grated parmesan over a grill pan or baking sheet and place under the overhead grill for a few minutes, watching carefully until it colours (take care as it burns easily). Remove from the grill then scrape into crumbs with the edge of a metal spatula or palette knife.
Warm the olive oil in a shallow pan, add the artichokes and cook them for 6-8 minutes till they are starting to colour. Turn once and continue cooking for a couple of minutes. Drain the pappardelle and gently toss with the artichokes. Scatter in the parsley, basil and lemon, and grind in some black pepper. Divide between plates and dust with the toasted parmesan crumbs.
Pork broth with noodles and greens
A stone-cold winterâs afternoon and there is a cast-iron pot of rich pork broth puttering away on the hob, the smell slowly percolating through the house. The broth has, at its heart, a few pork ribs with quite a few rags of meat left on, and a bone I begged from the butcher. There are a handful of free-range chicken wings in there too to give body to the broth and lend a silky texture. A couple of dried flowers of star anise has sent enough aniseed into the air to make the kitchen smell like a Chinese restaurant and I couldnât be happier.
There is no hurrying such matters. It takes time to get the goodness from bones. Once made, the broth will keep in the fridge for several days but I often use it the same day for deep bowls of soup to which I add noodles, greens and tufts of herbs.
The wings have done their work in the broth, but I have been known to drain and dry them, trickle them with olive oil and chilli sauce and toast them under an overhead grill.
Serves 2-3
For the broth (makes about 1.5 litres)
pork rib bones 750g, thick, with a little meat attached
garlic ½ a head
water 2 litres
chicken wings 500g
carrots 2 large
onions 2
dried shitake mushrooms 10g
thyme sprigs 6
whole black peppercorns 9
bay leaves 3
star anise 2
For the soup
pak choi 150g
pork broth 1 litre (see above)
cooked noodles 200g (I like to use soba but any work well)
pork rib bones 6, reserved from the broth
To finish (optional)
toasted sesame oil to taste
chilli oil to taste
coriander and mint leaves a handful
Preheat the oven to 180C fan/gas mark 6.
To make the broth, cut the pork rib into individual bones and put them in a roasting tin, tuck the unpeeled garlic cloves among them and roast for 45 minutes to a deep golden brown.
Pour the water into a large, deep pan with the chicken wings and bring to the boil. Scrub and roughly chop the carrots. Peel the onions, roughly chop them, then add them and the carrots to the broth, together with the shitake, thyme sprigs, peppercorns, bay leaves and star anise. Lower the heat so the water simmers gently for about 50 minutes, watching its level carefully and topping up with water if necessary.
Tuck the roasted pork bones into the stock and add the roasted garlic, still in its skin. Pour a ladle of the stock into the empty roasting tin, stir any delicious sticky bits of pork or roasted juices left in the tin into the stock with a wooden spoon, then pour it back into the broth. Simmer for a full 60 minutes, partially covered with a lid, making sure to top up with water if necessary. (You are aiming for a good 1.5 litres of finished stock.)
Carefully strain the stock. (I usually let it cool a little first, then lift out the bones and vegetables with a draining spoon and tongs, and set aside before straining the stock through a sieve.) Season the broth generously with salt.
For the soup, steam the pak choi for 2 minutes in a small steamer basket over a pan of boiling water. Bring the stock to the boil. Put the cooked noodles into three deep bowls, tuck in the cooked pak choi and the reserved rib bones, then ladle in the steaming broth. You can season with a few drops of sesame or chilli oil as you wish, and scatter in a few leaves of coriander and mint.
Cavatelli with sauerkraut, sour cream and sausage
If I can, I will pick up some coarse kielbasa sausage for this simple supper. The mild garlicky notes are pleasing with the piquancy of the sauerkraut, but to be honest any sausage is fine here. I sometimes use a coarsely ground Italian variety with fennel seeds, though a chubby little butcherâs breakfast sausage is good too.
Any small-sized pasta works here â curls of trofie or little ears of orecchiette; pasta shells or even the ubiquitous and rather chewy penne. I often use cavatelli, which is made without eggs and has something of the chewy quality of gnocchi â a perfect pasta for winter. This recipe is sometimes used in our house with potatoes in place of the pasta.
Serves 2
onion 1, medium to large
chestnut mushrooms 200g
thick, herby sausages 450g
olive oil 2-3 tbsp
cavatelli, trofie or similar small pasta 150g
sauerkraut 200g
dill 2 tbsp, chopped
soured cream 3 tbsp
Peel and finely chop the onion. Slice the mushrooms and cut the sausages into thick pieces.
Warm a tablespoon of oil in a large shallow pan, then add the onion and let it soften over moderate heat for 10 minutes, then add the sliced mushrooms and sausage. Continue cooking till the mushrooms are starting to turn golden brown.
Put a large pan of water on to boil, salt it and add the pasta. Cook till the paste is tender but not soft â start testing for doneness at 9 minutes.
Add the sauerkraut to the pan, tucking it among the mushrooms and onions. Stir in the drained pasta. Season with salt, pepper and the chopped dill, then add the soured cream in large spoonfuls.
A mushroom and pasta stew for winter
The rustic beauty of a winter stew, all glossy brown juices and sprigs of herbs, translucent, golden onion, the occasional bay leaf floating to the surface. Depths of flavour can come from meat stock, but in vegan sauces such as this, deep notes will come from mushrooms.
The stock is made with dried mushrooms, the cheaper anonymous ones being as useful here as the more expensive packets of dried porcini. The choice of pasta is yours â this is a good one for using up the ends of packets, but the most suitable are those that have the capacity to hold a sauce in their hollows â orecchiette, rigatoni or the shell-shaped conchiglie. Vegan versions are available. I like to serve this with a simple salad, such as watercress and blood orange.
Serves 4
dried mushrooms 10g
boiling water 500ml
onions 2 medium
olive oil 3 tbsp
carrot 1 medium
celery 2 sticks
garlic 3 cloves
assorted fresh mushrooms 500g
chilli flakes a large pinch
rosemary 6 sprigs
bay leaves 3
marsala 125ml
tomatoes 1 x 400g tin
hot vegetable stock 500ml
orecchiette 200g
balsamic vinegar 1 tbsp
Put the dried mushrooms in a jug, pour over the boiling water and leave to infuse for 20 minutes.
Peel and roughly chop the onions. Warm the olive oil in a deep pan over a moderate heat (I use one about 24cm in diameter with deep sides). Stir in the onions and let them cook slowly, stirring from time to time, until they are soft and sticky. This is a task to take your time over.
Cut the carrot and celery into small dice and stir into the softening onions. Peel and finely slice the garlic and add to the onions. Cut large mushrooms into thick slices. Halve brown chestnut and shitake mushrooms and stir into the onions, adding more oil if needed. Sprinkle in the chilli flakes.
Finely chop the rosemary leaves and stir them in with the bay leaves, then pour in the marsala. Allow the mixture to come to the boil, then add the tomatoes, their juice and the dried mushrooms and their soaking liquid. Lower the heat a little, grind in a little black pepper and salt, and simmer, partially covered by a lid, for 20 minutes. Introduce any smaller, more fragile mushrooms now.
Bring a deep pan of generously salted water to the boil. Tip in the pasta and cook for about 9 minutes or until it is tender but not soft. Drain the pasta and stir into the mushrooms. Stir in the balsamic vinegar, check the seasoning, then ladle into shallow bowls.
Quick sesame noodles
In complete contrast to the pork bone soup recipe above is a noodle supper that is on the table in minutes, involves almost no cooking and also happens to be vegan. It is one of those recipes open to endless tweaking and you can use more or less sesame paste, mirin, soy or garlic as the fancy takes you. The sauce is improved immeasurably by using Chinese roasted sesame paste if you can get it. The seeds being roasted before grinding, it has a darker colour and deeper flavour than the usual paler varieties
The pungent saltiness of the sauce is calmed once it is tossed with the hot, plump noodles.
Serves 2
garlic 4 large, juicy cloves
groundnut or vegetable oil 1 tbsp
fresh Shanghai noodles 400g
roasted sesame paste 4 tbsp
soy sauce 2-3 tbsp
mirin 2 tbsp
rice wine vinegar 1 tbsp
toasted sesame oil 1 tbsp
Peel the garlic cloves and grind to a paste with a good pinch of sea salt using a pestle and mortar. Warm the groundnut oil in a shallow pan over moderate heat, add the garlic paste and fry for a minute or two till fragrant.
Cook the noodles in deep, fast boiling, generously salted water for 1 minute, unless the instructions on your packet are different.
Mix together the sesame paste, soy sauce, mirin and rice wine vinegar, then stir into the garlic. Drain the noodles and toss with the sauce, then shake over a little sesame oil to taste.
