It's odd that it's nearly three months months into this blog and have only written up one pasta dish - and a non-typical one at that!

My pasta habit, however, isn't what it it used to be. Time was, practically every second meal I cooked was pasta (and there was even a time where it alternated between pasta and risotto... ), but these days, especially with the excellent driver that is our Feedbag allocation, I cook much more widely.

But if there's anything in my repertoire that I would have to call a 'signature dish', it's pasta with any kind of red sauce. In particular, my evolution of Puttanesca.

Penna alla Puttanesca

Technically, this is not, in fact, a Puttanesca. Also known as Whore's Pasta for wholly historical and rather practical reasons, my version swaps out a few key ingredients based on the taste-buds of various flatmates. A proper Puttanesca features generous amounts of anchovies, and even capers. I omit the capers and add tuna instead of the furry fish.

And yeah, if you're thinking this is a backwards step out of flavour country, you're right. But anchovy isn't for everyone, and if you nail the other flavours you still get a good dish. I do make a proper Puttanesca when I can, however. Hmm... salty...

ingredients

Tin of tomato

One onion

Two cloves of garlic

Water

Tomato paste

Olives

Tin of chilli tuna

Basil

Sea Salt

Cracked pepper

Olive oil

Penne pasta

Parmesan to taste

Couple of things to note. Take out the olives, tuna, and chilli and you've got an excellent base for a red sauce - in fact, ignore them completely in this recipe, or substitute for something else (like chorizo or mushrooms or... whatever) and that's what you'll get whatever kind of red sauce you want.

Secondly, the tuna. There's nothing wrong with good tinned food, and it can be a Gods-send to always have a couple of packs of pasta, tins of tomato and tuna in the cupboard. Of course, there's a mess of brands to choose from, but I find you can't go wrong with La Gina tomatoes(crushed, preferably) and Sirena tuna with chilli in oil. Saying it's arguably the best tuna in a can may not sound like much, but this is really good stuff, and going with the chilli variety makes this meal even simpler to cook, and provides two lovely chillis and a measure of oil suffused with that great flavour.

So let's get cooking.

First up, get a pot of salted water boiling for the pasta, and then slice up the garlic and onions. Add goodly splash of oil (I like oily pastas) to a pan and sauté until turning clear. Pop the tin of tuna, fish out the two chillis, and chop these up - add to the pan. Also add in some basil now - in this instance, I've used a jar of dried stuff.

Take a handful of the olives and either chop or add whole at this point. I prefer juicy kalamata olives (and, if you're interested, my favourite brand is Sandhurst), but this dish works just as well with green olives. Saute a touch longer, then drain most of the oil off the tuna, and flake out of the tin with a fork.

Saute a little bit more, and it's time to make this sauce start working. Add the tomatoes - take the tin, and half fill with water, adding it too. You can if you want substitute a measure of red wine if you want a punchy, boozy sauce - and there's nothing wrong with that! Add about a desert spoon of paste, stir it all up, bring to boil, and then let simmer away until the pasta's ready, and the sauce has thickened and reduced a bit. Add a bit more basil to the mix (adding herbs at different stages of cooking means you get that deeper flavour through all the ingredients, I find, while still keeping that fresher, stronger flavour hit).

Finally, drain off the pasta when ready, stir the sauce through, nom it all up.

This is flavour country right here, even with the most basic, "I have nothing fresh and must eat!" version of the dish. And if you think it's good as is - and it is - with a little planning this can be a real winner. Get good fresh olives from the local deli; use fresh chopped basil, lovely and green and fragrant. Use the good olive oil you save for special occasions.

Or, assuming you've got anchovy-friendly people around, make the real thing. With some fresh crusty bread, oil for dipping, and a bright combat Shiraz, this is about the best way to spend an evening with friends.