Pasta with Clams

Update: It doesn’t really pay to use the term “these days” for things meant to be timeless. At the risk of appearing too nostalgic, and a few edits for style or embarrassment notwithstanding, I like to leave these original entries as they are, to preserve a sort of this-is-how-I-did-it-then record. Taken together, recipes, techniques, and culinary doctrine all have anthropological value, so despite my evolution since writing these, to continually update these is to erase the marks in the sand that show how I got here. Re-reading this some years after it was written, I know now that this recipe is highly specific to the type of clam you use. It’s a fabulous approach but really was designed with cockles in mind, and would work well with anything that doesn’t spring too much liquor, such as Manilas or other varieties. But littlenecks could be a disaster, leaving you with a soupy, sandy pasta sauce. I make reference to these ideas, but I didn’t really know enough. Since I’ve been far more flush with littlenecks recently, I’ve been making a different version of this, which I will proudly call Linguine with White Clam Sauce and is found here. The time capsule continues:

I’ll stop short of calling this “White Clam Sauce”, but this is, these days, my go to Pasta with Clams recipe. In fact it is almost a dry sauce, essentially emulsifying butter and pork fat and even some olive into white wine and the clams’ own liquor – a dizzying prospect if ever there was one. This leverages handily the timeless and ineffable combination of clams and pig, is held up by a few simple ingredients and a few other even simpler techniques, and wholly celebrates the quality of its ingredients. You should expect a fine, slick layer to cover your smacking lips, and because there are shells included in the dish, your fingers too. What more delightfully oleaginous experience could you hope for?

It goes without saying that one should only use clams that are not only still alive but indeed, spirited and even roguishly frolicsome – if you can dig them yourself, all the better. But, since the clams go directly in and spring their liquor without the benefit of draining them, they must be entirely free of sand – so if you did dig them, take 24 hours to purge them, and if not, buy Manila clams or cockles from a reputable fish monger. The entire dish is enhanced by the use of smaller clams, so whether you’re using little necks or manilas, you want to keep your clam size small and uniform. Also, because the shells are included, you might give half a mind to their appearance – cockles’ shells in particular are attractive in both color and shape.

Those New Yorker readers and children of the early 2000s among you should know exactly where I’ve lifted this from.

Ingredients:

• 1/4 cup olive oil
• small pinch chopped garlic
• small pinch red chili flakes
• 1 medium shallot, minced
• 1/3 lb pancetta, cut into 1/2″, match stick thick batons
• 2 TBSP butter
• 1/4 cup white wine
• 8 ounces long pasta, like linguine
• 2 big handfuls clams (Cockles, Manila clams, or small Littlenecks)
• 1 TBSP minced parsley
• Black pepper

Directions:

Since everything will need to come together at exactly the right moment, it is best to prepare all your ingredients in advance and put a pot of water on to boil. It also helps to be familiar with exactly how long your pasta will take to cook.

Film the bottom of a sauté pan with about half the olive oil and set over medium heat. When it is a bit shimmery, add the pancetta, shallots, chili flakes, and black pepper and continue to cook, shaking the pan frequently, until the shallots are soft but not all that browned and the pancetta has rendered the majority of the fat it’s going to render. At this point the whole mixture should be sitting in a bit of fat, but not swimming in it. If it is swimming, drain some off until it is not.

When you’ve reached this point, turn the heat up to the highest it will go, and after about 30 seconds when it is truly starting to get raging hot, add the white wine, deglaze quickly, and then mount with the butter.  Stir vigorously to emulsify.

At this point it really pays off to know your pasta. You’re going to add it straight to the pan with the rest of your ingredients when it’s about 2 minutes away from being perfect, and the clams should cook for about 6 minutes. So you can do the math. But assuming you’re dropping your pasta at the exact right moment, here’s the rest of what you need to do: add the clams to the buttery-porky-winey mixture on the highest possible heat. You want to cook these quickly so that they open spring their liquor fast. Swirl it around every minute or so.

At the appointed moment, transfer the linguine directly from the boiling water into the pan using your tongs. You want a fair bit of starchy pasta water to be transferred along with it, but not too much – I usually give each batch a small shake above the pasta pot before transferring. You can always add more.

Cook the whole thing briskly for about 2 minutes, flipping and swirling as frequently as necessary, then when the whole thing has suddenly sucked into itself and become one cohesive idea, add the remaining dash of olive oil, sprinkle with parsley, toss a couple more times and thwwwwwack! You’re done.

Serve and enjoy immediately.