I nipped out with the sole intention of buying milk for my morning tea. But as is often the way at my corner shop, I got distracted. It’s one of those open-fronted corner shops that lures me in with crates of citrus and bunches of herbs standing to attention. When you enter, it’s like a Tardis. Countless tins of tomatoes are stacked up to the ceiling, shelves are lined with grains and pulses galore; blocks of feta slosh about in large buckets of brine.
I can’t put my finger on why exactly, there is just *something* about that corner shop that convinces me I really do need another jar of olives, another pasta shape to add to my growing selection and/or another tube of tomato puree (I might be running low and it’s always good to have a back up, I tell myself).
By the time I reach the back wall where they keep the milk, my hands and arms are laden. Oh and look, my favourite bar of chocolate (the salty one) is on offer so, frankly, it would be a missed opportunity not to sling one of those into my non-existent basket. My movements towards the till can only be described as a juggling act.
On this particular milk trip, it was the bitter greens that I couldn’t resist. The shop had only recently opened and the owners were replenishing the veg stands with perky bundles of cavolo nero, heads of chicory and, unusually, trays of cime de rapa. It isn’t every day that you see this Italian gem so you’ve got to grab it when you can, I told myself. And that is how this pasta recipe came to be, first made with my unnecessary but more than worth it cime de rapa purchase, and made a number of times since with kale, chard and broccoli. Any hardy greens will work, so just go with whatever takes your fancy at the shops.
Bitter greens, walnut and olive pasta
As always, the pasta shape you use is up to you but I would suggest a concave shape like orecchiette or conchiglie so that the greens, walnuts and olives can snuggle into the hollows.
The ratio of pasta to other bits and bobs (the greens, the walnuts, the olives etc) leans heavily in favour of the other bits and bobs. That’s how I like my pasta. What may seem like a significant quantity of greens will cook down significantly. Speaking of, this recipe involves cooking the greens twice (the Italians call this ripassati): firstly in salted water (the same water that you then use for cooking the pasta) and secondly in the pot of garlicky walnuts and olives.
As is often the way with pastas, this comes together quickly once you get going so I’d suggest doing all of your chopping before getting underway with anything at the hob.
Feeds 4