Rachel Roddy's Recipe for Buttery Parmesan Fettuccine | A kitchen in Rome

The other day I read a long and detailed recipe for meat-filled ravioli shaped like a pâté and served with a reduced meat topping. It was so detailed, and in such small writing, that - like a novel with many characters and a complex plot - I had to go back to remember what had happened. Recipe and reading felt like hard work. Until the last line, which sounded like a skip, and suggested that any leftover ravioli should be boiled, tossed with butter and parmesan, and eaten by the cook immediately.

I was sitting at my desk with a hot water bottle on my lap and my mouth was watering. Not for ravioli, but for scraps and scraps - the maltagliati, or "poorly cut pieces" - some thicker than others, because they were bent or twisted, making them even better collectors of butter and grated parmesan. Unfortunately, eating leftover ravioli immediately involves making ravioli in the first place, and I wasn't about to do that at 11:45 on a Tuesday (or ever, in the case of this particular recipe), but I had a polystyrene tray of fresh fettuccine in the freezer (which doesn't need to be thawed), so I put a pot of water on to boil and got out the grater.

Taken to the extreme – i.e. 200g raw unsalted butter and 450g grated parmesan 24 months for 450g pasta – fettuccine Alfredo, or simply Alfredo , as served at the Roman restaurant Alfredo alla Scrofa on Via della Scrofa, is quite something. Oretta Zanini di Vita and American writer Maureen Fant have a version of it (straight from the restaurant, apparently) in their book Sauces & Shapes: Pasta the Italian Way. They caution against taking too many liberties with the quantities, otherwise the consistency won't be good. My version, suggested by the snippets, is not Alfredo. It is fettuccine (or tagliatelle) with butter and parmesan. It is also inspired by my landlady Giuliana, who is convinced that no pasta with cheese and fat (cacio e pepe, parmesan and butter, or guanciale and pecorino) needs to involve a technique. Just put them in a bowl and – she mimics two forks, energetically moving her arms up and down – giri, giri, giri, turn, turn, turn.

For each person, I suggest 150g of fresh fettuccine, tagliatelle or ravioli ravioli (or 110g dried), 25g of butter, two heaped tablespoons (about 30g) of parmesan grated and plenty of black pepper. Having mentioned the beauty and relief of a simple instruction (and my neighbor's advice), I hope not to undo this by writing more than one sentence - or, indeed, by offering a variation with the second method which involves a frying pan.< /p>

Butter and parmesan are circular foods, I think. What I mean by that is that their complex fatty nature and full flavor make them cling and swirl in your mouth in the most satisfying way, even when you eat quickly. Especially if they cling to long ribbons of pasta, which they do well. Also, while they both melt, the crystalline nature of Parmesan keeps things slightly grainy, which is always a good thing. Happy New Year!

Fettuccine with butter and parmesan

Prepare 2 minCook 10 minServes 2

300g fettuccine or tagliatelle fresh, or 220g dried butter 50g butter4 tbsp grated Parmesan cheeseBlack pepper

Method 1While the pasta is cooking in salted water, cut the butter into cubes, divide it between two warm bowls and mash it a little. When the pasta is ready, drain it, divide it into the bowls and mix. Divide the parmesan between the bowls, grind a little pepper and toss with two forks.

Method 2While the pasta is cooking in salted water, melt the butter in a pan. When the pasta is ready, drain it and pour it into the pan, stirring so that each ribbon shines. Divide into two bowls, top each with two tablespoons of grated parmesan cheese and plenty of freshly cracked black pepper, toss again and eat.