Onion and radicchio frying in pork fat rendered from mortadella.  The mortadella gets added at the end to preserve its crispness. — Onion and radicchio frying in pork fat rendered from mortadella. The mortadella gets added at the end to preserve its crispness.

My preferred brand of pasta has the following note on the package: “It as difficult to extimate an exacte cooking time for the artigianal pasta. We suggests that you cook until al dente—7-10 minuti.” What does it say about correctly cooking pasta when its manufacturer won’t commit to anything more concrete than a figurative expression and a thirty percent margin for error? As far as I am aware, there is no standardized scale for toothsomeness; besides, I have never met two cooks who can agree on what constitutes al dente. However, pasta must retain some of the body that has been hard-won in Gragnano. It shouldn’t be crisp, but it should provide resistance enough to require real chewing. This is because dry pasta is a meagre product of a historically hard-scrabble region; that eating it should mimic some of the pleasant resistance one would encounter from something substantive and expensive, like a piece of meat, makes sense. Properly cooked pasta should slow the eater down, forcing both consideration of the flavor and the satisfaction that comes with purposeful eating.

So these mystical few lines are at the heart of pasta cookery. But that’s not to say there aren’t preferences. My suggestion is to cook enough pasta until you have developed one, and then learn to consistently arrive at it. This is best achieved by treating dry pasta as you would a visiting royal; water, sauces, additional dressings, utensils, table settings, wine and guests must all be ready and waiting. Once the pasta arrives, all must fall into strict attendance to its tight schedule.

Liquid gold.  Starchy water should be added to almost every type of sauce or dressing for pasta.  It is the glue that holds all the magic together. — Liquid gold. Starchy water should be added to almost every type of sauce or dressing for pasta. It is the glue that holds all the magic together.

When all is ready, it is time to “drop the pasta.” Except don’t drop it; ease it in. The next few moments are critical. First, season the water with quite a bit of salt—say two tablespoons for a pound of pasta. This will have the dramatic effect of bringing the water, temporarily brought off the boil by the introduction of cool pasta, back to a rolling and fizzing boil. The initial starchy coating will begin to dissolve; this is a good sign, but also fraught with hazard. Starch acts like glue, and in the first three minutes of boiling, will encourage your pasta to stick to the pot. You must stir, easing any adhered pieces from the bottom, but with a gentle hand so as not to break the still-brittle pasta. Once the water is opaque, most of the immediately available starch has dissolved, and there opens a small window to further attend to the other components. Do not stray far though; a watched pot may seem not to cook, but a neglected one will turn out inedible mush in no time at all. Out of respect, I usually just silently observe.

Once the pasta has reached a level of doneness slightly less than your pre-determined ideal, you must burst into action. Begin by reserving two cups of starchy water. Next, drain the pot slowly over a colander securely placed within a clean sink. I will pause here to address the matters of rinsing, and by extension, starch. Some people are under the false impression that running cold water over the hot pasta will lock in the correct level of doneness. This is catastrophic for two reasons. Firstly, whatever carefully attained level of doneness you have achieved will be ruined when trying to reheat the now chilled pasta in your sauce. Secondly, the running water will rinse away crucial surface starch—the adherent that encourages the magical binding of dressing and pasta.

Spaghetti with shredded mortadella, onion and radicchio.  A very good way to make room in the icebox. — Spaghetti with shredded mortadella, onion and radicchio. A very good way to make room in the icebox.

The assembly of pasta and dressing will require the marshaling of all your culinary abilities. Here is how I do it. Once the pasta is safely transferred to the colander, immediately pour it into the vessel in which the sauce or dressing has cooked. Begin mixing with tongs. If the result seems dry, loosen with the reserved, starchy cooking water. This is also the point at which other components, like cheese, parsley, olive oil or butter should be added. Adjust seasoning if necessary, and serve. All of the above, however, must be executed in under a minute. If done correctly, the pasta will have reached its toothsome ideal just as the sauce and other components have correctly adhered, evenly coating, but not overwhelming, each strand. The other sign that things have gone well is ten minutes of silent eating.