All clammed up

There has been a fair amount of debate recently, both in the press and in my mind as to the ultimate recipe for Spaghetti alla vongole, a subtle, light and yet flavoursome pasta dish favoured in Rome and perfect for a summer lunch. It has always been a favourite of mine. I love its ease, simplicity and salty seaside tones. Spaghetti alla vongole (although I actually prefer Linguine) couldn’t be easier to make, clams which have been briefly cooked in white wine, olive oil, garlic and the merest hint of chilli, tossed with al dente pasta and sprinkled with some flat leaf parsley, what could be simpler? As with all things in life though, what sometimes appears to be simple on the surface is surrounded by deep complicated undercurrents of debate and this beautifully simple dish falls victim to that theory. The area of contention is Tomato, the purist’s: a team I’d like to consider myself as a member, will rightly debate that there is no room for the tomato in a vongole whilst there is another camp that will of course argue the complete opposite. Felicity Cloake in the Guardian writes an article each week on ‘how to make the ultimate’ and last week her ‘ultimate’ was vongole, therefore this argument was brought to a conclusion that neatly coincided with my return from a trip to Rome where this dish was on the roster, several times. It is therefore, with a raft of knowledge and on-the –ground experience, I can now reveal … bianco is best! Not that I needed Felicity or anyone else to persuade me on this as my natural bent is towards the pure. I have often had a version of this dish that includes a couple of cherry tomatoes and the sweetness they impart can on occasion be very palatable. Not so when a rich unctuous tomato sauce swamps the subtle salty offerings of the naked clam, this is definitely a no vote. In this case a mussel is a far better vehicle for a sweet sticky sauce.

When in Rome, as they say, and I was, I did indeed do what Romans do and indulged in Vongole as often as I could. Ristorante 34 nestles in a side street just off the Prada, Gucci, and Valentino mecca of via condotti. Surprising for it’s location this simple little trattoria offers some pretty good dishes, the vongole is my favourite and indeed is one of the best you can have outside of your own kitchen, aside from the oddly shaped ‘clam’ dish it was served on, a plain white round would have surpassed, but there lies another whole area of debate we won’t go into right now. Perfectly cooked pasta (you’d really expect nothing less but are often surprised) and generous helping of clams bound in a wine, garlic and parsley coating with the exact amount of chilli required to give this dish a delicate and graceful lift makes this the perfect meal for sitting at one of the little street-side tables gazing at the glamorous shoppers passing by clutching at glitzy carrier bags, the Prada carefully placed in full view.

There are many recipes but my own (with Linguine) concurs with Felicity Cloake’s ultimate version, so here it is.

Serves 4

• 500g small clams (palourdes, or carpet shell are ideal)

• 350g Linguine (dried)
• 
30g butter
• 
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

• 3 fat cloves of garlic, finely chopped

• ½ medium-hot red chilli, finely chopped

• 100ml dry white wine
• 
Small bunch of flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped

• Zest of ½ a lemon and a spritz of juice

1. Rinse the clams in cold running water, and scrub if necessary, then put them into a large bowl and cover with cold water. Salt generously and leave for a couple of hours, then drain and rinse well to remove any grit or sand.

2. Put the linguine into a large pan of salted boiling water and cook for a couple of minutes under the recommended time, until nearly done.

3. Meanwhile, put half the butter and all the olive oil in a large pan over a medium heat and soften the garlic and chilli.

4. Add the drained clams, and turn up the heat. Pour in the wine, cover and leave for a couple of minutes until most of them have opened. Discard any that are still closed. Add the others to the sauce, picking a few out of their shells for variety.

5. Drain the linguine and add to the pan along with the remaining butter. Toss well and leave for a minute, then stir through the chopped parsley, lemon zest and juice, season to taste and serve.