While today’s recipe is from Tuscany, it is also thanks to a girl who went to my school. She lived outside town, in a big house with both a swimming pool and chickens. I never actually saw the house, or jumped in the pool, but I did hear about the chickens that lived in a cage at the bottom of the garden and laid more eggs than the family could eat. There was also the story about how, one day, this girl stopped her uncle from killing one of the chickens, which meant that for Sunday lunch they had roast potatoes, fried eggs and gravy made from Marmite. I remember being thrilled by this story, the idea that she had put herself between an uncle (with a gun, knife, rope, his bare hands? I had no idea) and the hen, therefore saving its life; and that, while the family ate Marmite gravy, the chicken ran free.
Scappatomeans run away, escaped, scarpered. It’s a nice thought that this recipe forpenne con pollo scappato, or pasta with chicken that has fled the coop, was the result of a feisty young girl and a fortunate hen somewhere in Tuscany. It is probably more likely, though, that it was the result of no chickens at all. Along with Sicilianpasta con le sarde al mare(pasta with sardines still at sea) and Neapolitanspaghetti alle vongole fujute(spaghetti with clams that have fled), penne con pollo scappato is part of a family of recipes brought about my resourceful necessity. I have a book about Tuscan food that calls such recipescucina del’ inganno, which translates as “cooking of deception”, but I think the meaning is slightly different in Tuscan – cunning, and also protective, something you do in order to make something as good as you can with whatever you have to hand. This one is certainly a clever recipe, the well-cooked soffritto of carrot, celery, onion and wine, mixed with rosemary, tomato concentrate from a tube and a long cooking time result in a flavour so deep that it is every bit as good as meat.
In the spirit of resourcefulness, and in keeping with the story, you could add the tip of a teaspoon of Marmite to the sauce, too, which, like half an anchovy or a splash of fish sauce, is seasoning of the subterranean sort. Another addition, for flavour and lovely shine, is a knob of butter stirred in at the end of cooking.
Prep15 minCook50 minServes4
100ml olive oil2 onions, peeled and diced2 medium carrots, peeled and diced2 celery sticks, trimmed and diced1 garlic clove, peeled and crushed1 sprig fresh rosemary250mlred wine1 tsp tomato concentrateA pinch of red chilli flakes500g penne, or other pasta tubeSalt and black pepper¼ tsp Marmite/½ anchovy/1 tsp fish sauce– optionalA knob of butter, to finishGrated parmesan or pecorino, to serve
Put the oil in a heavy-based frying or saute pan set over a medium-low heat, then fry the onion, carrot, celery, garlic and rosemary for at least 10 minutes, until soft and just starting to take on a light golden colour.
Stir in the wine, then, after a few minutes, add the tomato concentrate and red chilli, and stir again. Cook, half-covered with a lid, for 40-50 minutes, until the sauce is dense and richly flavoured – it should not at any point be dry, so add more wine or water if needed.
Meanwhile, cook the pasta in boiling salted water and, once it is al dente, drain and save some of the cooking water, or use a slotted spoon or spider to lift it directly from the water. Combine the pasta and sauce, and add the butter and some black pepper. Stir everything together, then divide between bowls, passing round grated parmesan, pecorino or other cheese for those who want it. You could also blend or mash a proportion of the vegetables for a softer consistency.
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