Note: We’ll unveil Lulu’s carrot soup recipe next Wednesday! xo
I believe every dad boasts a signature dish. I’ll just put it out there: My dad’s spaghetti is unparalleled. Or at least, it’s perfect for this season — a large bowl of warm, savory, rich comfort. I crave it like clockwork in the first week of January, and although my dad might argue my affection is due to his preparation, that’s not true in this instance. My dad passed away 11 months ago, and despite deep grief, I can confidently say I adore this pasta equally when made for myself. Sorry, Dad!
The recipe is straightforward — almost overly simple. It’s garlic, crushed tomatoes, olive oil, and salt. It took years of practice and countless phone calls to master it. I couldn’t fathom how my dad transformed basic ingredients into a sauce that looked ordinary atop spaghetti yet burst with profound flavor — it seemed magical.
Actually, two mundane tricks make this pasta: the proportions and the cooking temperature. The proportions are outrageous — you’ll use loads of garlic. More than that. No, even more. And guess what? You’re not going to brown it. You won’t turn on the heat until the very end, and then it’s barely a nudge. It’s going to feel completely wrong as you proceed. The day I conquered this dish was the day I ignored my own instincts and followed my dad’s directions. That’s not always correct, but at times — fine — it is.
My Dad’s Spaghetti
8-10 cloves of garlic (seriously)
3/4 cup olive oil, or a bit more
1 28-oz can of crushed tomatoes (no basil), preferably Red Pack or Cento
1 box cappellini
Salt, for pasta water
Dad Tips: First, my dad would insist on buying quality canned tomatoes, ideally Red Pack or Cento. He’d reiterate this advice due to its significance. Understood? Cool. Secondly, he’d clarify that cappellini differs from angel hair, and angel hair is too fine.
Mince or press your garlic. If the cloves are small, definitely use 10 — aim for a sizable pile of garlic. Add it to a saucepan with olive oil (don’t ignite the heat yet!). There should be enough oil tofully submerge the garlic and then some.
Add the crushed tomatoes to the pot, and now set the heat to low. Let it linger for a while, warming but not simmering. You might need to raise it to medium-low, but prevent it from reaching a simmer. Again, with this sauce, the goal is more “heating” than “cooking.” The flavors will merge, and the garlic will mellow, but it will retain a good bite at completion. Stir the sauce with a wooden spoon occasionally, to incorporate the oil — it won’t fully merge (another proportion trick!).
While the sauce warms up, boil your pasta in well-salted water. By well-salted, I mean a bit more than usual. As there’s no salt in the sauce, saltier pasta is vital for balance. Cook the pasta just shy of al dente (about 2 minutes for cappellini; it will finish cooking in the sauce), then drain and quickly toss it into the sauce. Turn the heat off, and toss the pasta until well-coated, filling your kitchen with delightful, garlicky steam.
Serve immediately. I prefer this pasta plain, but fresh parm enthusiasts can go for it. That’s my dad’s style.
What’s your favorite Dad Dish? Do share, if it includes serious rules; those details are precious.
P.S. Alex Beggs offers her dad’s tasty turkey meatloaf, and if you’re still craving spaghetti, how about a spaghetti PIE?
Title: Longing for My Dad’s Spaghetti as January’s Ultimate Comfort Meal
As January’s chilly winds blow, few things compare to the cozy embrace of a warm, substantial meal to comfort the soul. For many, comfort food invokes nostalgia, and for me, it means one thing: my dad’s spaghetti. This dish, with its rich flavors and familial connections, has become the ultimate comfort meal to start the new year.
**A Cherished Family Tradition**
During childhood, my dad’s spaghetti was more than food; it was a tradition. Every Sunday, the kitchen brimmed with the delightful aroma of simmering tomatoes, garlic, and herbs. Preparing the sauce, allowing it to blend and deepen over hours, was a labor of love that my dad embraced with pride. These times united our family, exchanging stories and laughter, creating memories to last a lifetime.
**The Enchanting Sauce**
The allure of my dad’s spaghetti lies in its simplicity and a secret component: time. The sauce commences with sautéed onions and garlic, joined by a hearty dose of crushed tomatoes. My dad would add Italian herbs—basil, oregano, and thyme—plus a hint of red pepper flakes for subtle heat. The sauce would slowly simmer, letting the flavors deepen, uniting into a savory masterpiece.
**A Unique Touch**
Though the sauce shined, my dad’s unique touch made it extraordinary. He’d often add a splash of red wine, enhancing the sauce’s complexity, or include fresh basil leaves before serving for an aromatic end. Occasionally, he’d add meatballs or Italian sausage, contributing heartiness that made the dish even more fulfilling.
**Comfort in Each Bite**
In January, as days shorten and nights lengthen, my dad’s spaghetti provides a reassuring refuge. Every bite evokes home, warmth, and love. Twirling the pasta around a fork, savoring the rich sauce, and relishing familiar flavors offers peace and contentment found nowhere else.
**A Legacy of Love**
As I’ve matured, I’ve perpetuated the tradition of crafting my dad’s spaghetti, sharing it with friends and family. It’s a way to preserve his legacy and pass on the love and comfort symbolized by this dish. Whenever I prepare it, I recall treasured Sundays and the joy a simple meal brings.
In summary, my dad’s spaghetti surpasses a mere dish; it’s a token of comfort, family, and love. As January’s supreme comfort food, it supplies warmth and solace during the coldest months, reminding us of tradition’s significance and a homemade meal’s power.
