Foodstuff: So cheesy

“It’s only four ingredients!” they said. “Super simple!” everyone shouted from the recipe blogs. “Trendiest recipe of 2024!” cooking contributors heralded.

As we creak towards the end of off-season, en route to a late (very late) Thanksgiving, I must admit, I’m a little over it. I don’t feel like cooking, nor do I feel like writing about cooking. I’m in full-blown “It’s dark outside, let’s go to bed at 4:30 p.m.” mode. To that end, I’m craving the things I lean on most when the weather turns cold, and the days get short: cheese and carbohydrates. I need something easy, familiar, and comforting. All the better if it comes together in a snap.

While I’ve riffed on my derivatives of cacio e pepe for years, incorporating butter, cheese, and black pepper over bits and bobs of noodles I keep in the cabinet, I decided to make it official and try this Roman classic last Saturday evening.

---

---

There are about a million recipes for cacio e pepe online, so I had to use my best guess on what might work well. While it might not be to-the-letter traditional, I also knew I wanted to incorporate butter, so I found the recipe below on the blog “Running to the Kitchen.” Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy night as this was tricker than anticipated. Hot tip: Read to the end if you’re going to give it a shot.

CACIO E PEPE

---

---

Serves 4
16 ounces bucatini*
3 T extra virgin olive oil, divided
2 t freshly ground black pepper, plus more for serving**
4 T unsalted butter

2 c (heaping) finely grated Pecorino Romano cheese, 140g/about five ounces***

Bring a small to medium pot of water to a boil. Salt once boiling then add the bucatini and cook until al dente — about 1-2 minutes under stated cooking time. Using a smaller pot or skillet than you might typically use to cook the pasta is important to concentrate the starch in the water.

Meanwhile, place the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat with the black pepper. Simmer for 1-2 minutes until fragrant.

Add one scant cup of the cooking liquid from the pasta to the skillet along with the butter. Let the butter melt, and gently whisk the mixture together.

Strain pasta, reserving an extra cup of the pasta water, then add it to the skillet.

Add the grated cheese on top and toss everything together until well combined and creamy, adding more pasta cooking liquid if desired to reach your preferred consistency.****

Serve with extra ground pepper and grated cheese as desired.

COOK’S NOTES

*It got incredibly difficult to find bucatini after the pandemic, but I found a great dried version at Plosky’s Delicatessen in Carbondale. Spaghetti would work fine as well.

**Instead of using my regular pepper grinder, I busted up whole peppercorns in my mortar and pestle, which is a giant pain but essential for getting that perfect peppery bite here.

***The weight of a cup of grated cheese varies depending on the grater. The cheese should be finely grated for this recipe and weigh 140g, or about five ounces.

****Spoiler Alert: This dish makes ZERO SENSE. The pasta water was too hot, the cheese clumped immediately, and the butter never emulsified and didn’t cling to the noodles. We were left with wet bucatini and pepper cheese chunks. Next time, I’ll likely make a paste of cooled pasta water and cheese, adding a little bit at a time, off the heat. Maybe that will work? This dish has me questioning everything — a real existential culinary crisis.

The taste was great, the texture was … odd. Can anyone else try this and let me know how it goes for you or send tips and tricks if you’ve cooked this successfully in your kitchen? Soliciting suggestions to the email below!

Katherine Roberts is a mid-Valley based writer and marketing professional who never knew cheesy pasta could cause such consternation. She can be reached via her marketing and communications firm, Carington Creative, at katherine@caringtoncreative.com.