When you’re a child, things are so much simpler. But that childlike nature and delicate little ego is supported by a village’s worth of hands always keeping you afloat- always making sure that life is simple- so that you can grow into an adult after having had the experience of the carefree life of a loved child.

Food is no exception- particularly in my Italian family. There are many flavors and even shapes in the rainbow of the Italian palate that take getting used to for some children.

I shall never forget my first taste of pecorino romano, anchovies, porcini, wine or lupini beans. I shall always remember with such incredibly sweet and smiling pride the first time I saw my auntie Edie collect snails and dandelion greens or watched the fat tentacles of the pulpo and the tiny legs of the sepie tickled the top of my nonno’s cousin Pinzi’s incredibly delicious red sauce with her handmade cavatelli di ricotta!

“Bammmbiiiiiini! (she purred in that Neapolitan dialect) Did you know that an octopus has a beak,” Pinzi asked as she ripped it out with her pliers?

Eeeeeew! We do now!

Cue children laughing and screaming!

I remember the preparation and the first bites of all these things because my family made me a part of the tradition of it by including me when it was time to cook.

But even still, for the average child’s palate, many of these things were otherworldly and odd. And while my family expected you to try everything on your plate, there were a few concessions made for the pickier children.

And thank goodness! Because out of that need to for simplifying the food offerings for the youngest palates in the clan came what turned out to be a delicious Sunday tradition when we were very small.

A just in case pasta. A pasta to end all childhood mac ’n cheese dreams in complete and utter satisfaction.

My nonna called these White ‘Ronies.

They were served right along next to Red ‘Ronies. These were always cheeky yet teachable moments to remind the children that the colors of the white, the red and with the addition of parsley or basil, the green colors, were those of the Italian flag.

My grandparents would say, “Dovete ricordarvi, bambini, che la bandiera italiana inizia con il colore verde del basilico, poi la ricotta bianca, poi la salsa rossa.”

Translation?

“You must remember, children, that the Italian flag begins with the green color of the basil, then the white ricotta, then the red sauce.”

To this day, whenever I see the Italian flag, I think to myself, “The basil is first..” I laugh and I am 8 years old and in my grandmother’s kitchen on John Street.

The memories of that house still fill me with such joy. The kind of joy it takes a lifetime to savor…

And while it’s also taken me fifty plus years to be able to articulate it in a recipe, it’s the easiest thing in the world to make.

Let’s make it, then!

White ‘Ronies

Ingredients

All of these are QB or “quanto basta”: as you like it!

• 1lb of your favorite pasta- we always use Ziti like Nonna did but Penne, Penne Rigati, Rigatoni and Garganelli work great because of the holes for the sauce

• 12 oz or 1 1/2 cups of the best whole milk or part skim ricotta- room temperature

• 1 great handful of either parmigiano reggiano

• 1 smaller handful of pecorino romano

• 1 ladle of hot, salted pasta water

And if you are NOT making this for the children…

• a few generous turns of cracked black pepper

• 2 small, peeled minced or pressed garlic cloves

• 1 handful of coarsely chopped Italian parsley

• 2 fresh bay leaves bumped with the butt of your chef’s knife

Boil a large pot of water for the pasta. I always use a large pot- like 8 quarts. You want to salt this water to be “salty like the sea” according to the gastronomy of the Italian housewife or la gastronomia di casalinga. I would push back on this a little and say you should salt the water like you would salt your soup. Taste it. If it is not salient, your pasta will be bland.

Make it come alive! And for goodness sake: use some delicious salt.

There is brilliant truth here. Salt the water like you are going to eat it because you will be eating it through your pasta. There are so few ingredients in this dish and salt is one of them coming through the salted water and the Italian cheeses.

Simplicity along with working with the products and not against them.

That’s the Italian secret.

Toss in the pasta. It’s only going to cook anywhere from about 8-12 minutes for al dente. I know- short, right? Certainly test it! If your tooth doesn’t have anything to bite against you’ve cooked it too long. Start with 8 minutes and see what you like after that. Add more boiling time if you please.

In another bowl, toss some boiling pasta water in it to warm it up before adding ingredients.

Add your ricotta and your two grated cheeses- romano and parmigiano.

If this is going to be for the adult crowd, throw in the garlic.

With your kitchen spider or hand strainer, fish out your pasta and toss it into the bowl with the cheeses.
Ladle one scoop of hot pasta water on top of the mixture and lightly toss or fold so you do not break the pasta.

I always add a little more grated cheese until the texture is right. Alternate with a little pasta water until you get a slippery and creamy sauce. Trust yourself.

Less is more. Use tiny 1/4 full ladles and you will be fine.

Remove your bay leaves.

Place pasta in a warm plate or bowl with a pinch of fresh Italian parsley and a couple of twists of black pepper!

This is so fun and easy, you should feel free to toss in things that you love. Keep it simple. Perhaps some crispy pancetta or caramelized onions?

Try it as it is first. It’s splendidly perfect, quick and completely satisfying.

Saluti, amici!