How to Italianize a Favorite Chinese Dish
Tomato and egg sauce for pasta
When a couple of years ago I wrote about Chinese-style tomatoes and eggs as an enduring part of our summertime dinner repertoire, I tossed out the notion that the same basic idea — barely cooked scrambled eggs folded into ripe tomatoes that had been chopped and quickly reduced with aromatics and oil — could become an Italianesque topping for grilled bread by changing the aromatics and the oil but retaining the technique.
Jackie and I had the Chinese version for dinner the other week. It was as delicious as ever. The tomatoes were sweet, acidic, savory — everything a tomato should be — and it’s in the tomatoes that success lies. Once that success is achieved, complete pleasure requires lots of rice and a spoon (not chopsticks). Contemplating that rice-to-tomato ratio, I realized that serving an Italianized version on bread, while delicious and entertainingly messy to eat, wouldn’t quite nail that ratio.
But what a pasta sauce this would make! And a few days later, when we had replenished our tomato stocks, I set about preparing a pasta-worthy version of our rice-based favorite. It was everything I’d hoped it would be: The tomato juices become viscous from quick reduction and by grabbing onto the (olive) oil to form a light emulsion that is spicy from the little bit of dried chile and the garlic; the eggs add richness and more texture; the anchovies provide an umami background to the already savory tomatoes. Finishing the dish with basil or mint adds a fragrant note, but this is highly optional. On the other hand, the grated Parmesan — which I’d thought would be superfluous — makes a real contribution to flavor-balance and, not least, to the dish’s Italianate credentials.
(I shall append a stripped-down “executive summary” of the recipe for those who don’t want to read my detailed instructions.)
For the two of us, I used a total of 150 grams (just over 5 oz) of dried pasta: a skinny version of penne in this case, though I think it would be good with other short tubular shapes — or spaghetti. That’s less than my classic 100 grams per person because the tomatoes and eggs add up to quite a lot of food. (Note that the quantities of the main ingredients in this dish are easily remembered: For each person, you’ll need one tomato, one egg, one anchovy fillet, one dried chile, and one small or half a large clove of garlic.)
First put up a pot of salted water for the pasta. When it comes to the boil, cut an X into the round end of two big, ripe tomatoes, or however many it takes to reach a total weight of just under a pound (430 g or so). Lower them into the boiling water and remove them with a slotted spoon after 15 seconds; the skin will peel away easily. Halve the skinned tomatoes lengthwise, trim away the stem and roughly cut into fairly small — say, 3/8 inch (1 cm) — pieces. Scoop the chopped tomatoes and all their juices and seeds into a bowl, sprinkle lightly with salt, and leave aside to set the juices running.
You can lower the heat under the water for now, but you’ll need it for the pasta.
Thoroughly beat two eggs with a little salt. In a 10-inch (25-cm) skillet (I prefer nonstick), heat 2 tablespoons good olive oil over medium-high heat and, using a heat-resistant rubber spatula, quickly but lightly scramble the eggs — really lightly, so err on the side of ooziness: they will finish cooking later. Slip them back into the bowl you beat them in and set aside. Speaking of rubber spatulas, I use these Rubbermaid spoon-shaped ones for everything, and have at least half a dozen on hand at all times.
Peel two small cloves of garlic or one large and slice thin. Ready a couple of little dried chiles (or a two-finger pinch of hot pepper flakes) and two oil-packed anchovy fillets. Bring the pasta water back to a full boil.
Add another tablespoon of olive oil to the skillet and warm it over medium heat. Add the garlic and chiles and cook for two to four minutes, until the garlic is just starting to turn golden. Add the anchovies. Worry them with your spatula or a spoon for about a minute, mashing them into the oil; they will disintegrate. Raise the heat to medium-high and add the tomatoes and all their juices; if you like, you can throw in a few basil or mint leaves, too. Stirring and scraping with your rubber spatula, cook at a quick but not violent boil for four or five minutes, or until the tomatoes have broken up and the juices have become slightly viscous and deeper in color. Turn off the heat under the skillet to await the pasta.
Boil the pasta until it is not quite ready, say, two minutes before the recommended cooking time. While the pasta is cooking, bring the tomatoes back to the boil. Add the drained, slightly undercooked pasta, saving a cup or so of the cooking water; simmer and stir until the pasta is as you like it, adding some of the pasta water to adjust the consistency if necessary. Finally, fold in the scrambled eggs and break them up into fragments. Check seasoning; it will almost certainly need salt. Finish, optionally, with leaves of basil or mint and, not optionally, with grated Parmesan.
Recipe summary for two portions
Peel and dice a pound of ripe, juicy tomatoes. Salt and set aside.
In a 10-inch skillet (nonstick is best), very lightly scramble two eggs in olive oil and set aside.
In the same skillet, fry two small cloves garlic, thinly sliced, and two small dried chiles over medium heat until the garlic just turns golden. Mash in two oil-packed anchovy fillets. Add the tomatoes and boil over medium-high heat until the tomatoes have broken up and their juices have become viscous and deeper in color.
Add 150 grams not-quite-done pasta to the tomatoes; simmer and stir until pasta is done. Adjust consistency with pasta water if necessary. Fold in the scrambled eggs, breaking them up into fragments. Serve with grated Parmesan and, optionally, a few leaves of basil or mint.
Edward Schneider has been cooking since he was 9 and began writing about food, cooking, and travel soon after he learned to type.
