PUTTIN' TUNA INTO PUTTANESCA.
In which fresh tuna steak is gently cooked in puttanesca sauce, no pasta required.
I was walking up the street ahead of my husband, the world of Naples unfolding before me like a Fellini movie trailer. The three kids clinging to papa on the Vespa, the crazy traffic, the never-ending horns, the older gentleman at the restaurant table with a young woman, looking my way. He beckons me over. I say something about the food, and he nods slowly, granting, yes, it might be edible.
Then he looks at his companion, who nods, and invites me to join them for the night. To see what might happen.
At precisely that point, Terry turns up at the entrance to the restaurant and does that pointing-forward and shrugging thing to say ‘you coming, or not?’
I think of this scene that lasted less than a minute; this tiny expression of Neapolitan life and love and cheekiness; every time I cook puttanesca.
It’s a lesson not just in the language, but in the life and the culture. Cook it, and you’ll know the Neapolitan term for a lady of the night (la puttana), because it’s supposedly named for the quickly rustled-up pasta sauce of tomato, anchovy, garlic, capers, olives and chilli that was, of necessity, the regular supper of many a working girl.
Well, I’m a working girl, too, and I love how this simple sauce with all its heavy-hitters does its round in the ring and cooks in the time it takes to pour a glass of wine. (And drink it).
YES, SHE COOKED THE TUNA IN THE SAUCE.
I love a good pan-fried tuna steak on a working night, but it needs something.
So I cooked the fish gently in the puttanesca sauce, and boy did it get what it needs, with all those salty, fruity, bitey things and chilli-flecked, oregano-forward flavours.
The washer-upperer was also happy.
The key to the sauce is starting with olive oil, shallots or red onion, garlic and anchovies, and then cooking down the tomato paste until it almost sticks to the pan. That’s the bed.
Then it’s just about chucking in olives and capers and tomatoes and dried chilli and simmering for 10 minutes or so. It’s punchy, so feel free to add extra water to loosen the sauce as it cooks down. It can take it.
THEN YOU HAVE CHOICES
Just slide your raw, fresh tuna steak into the middle of the sauce, cover it with sauce, and simmer for 3 minutes until just pink inside, and serve. It’s a sort-of slow-cook tuna confit, but for the fact that it’s not slow.
Or you could pan-fry your tuna steaks in a separate pan, then spoon the sauce over the top and serve.
If you over-cook the tuna, don’t worry, just shred it into the sauce and pretend it’s canned. It sort of works.
And of course, you could cave in and add pasta, because you know you want to.
Eat this on your balcony, overlooking the ragazzi playing in the street at midnight, the beep of the Vespa drivers, the lone cellist in the streetlight on the corner.
FRESH TUNA PUTTANESCA
3 tbsp olive oil
2 shallots or half red onion, peeled and finely sliced
3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely sliced
6 anchovy fillets, drained of oil
2 tbsp tomato paste
3 tbsp mixed olives
pinch of dried chilli flakes
2 tbsp salted capers, rinsed
1 scant tsp dried oregano
400 g canned chopped tomatoes (I use baby San Marzano)
1 tbsp finely chopped parsley
cracked black pepper
2 x 150 g tuna steaks
Heat 2 tbsp oil in a medium to large frying pan and gently cook the garlic and shallots for 2 minutes. If using red onion, maybe 3 minutes.
Add the anchovies and mash them into the oil, then the tomato paste, tossing to coat, and cook gently until the tomato paste is fragrant and about to stick to the pan.
Add the olives, chilli, capers and oregano, tossing well.
Add the canned tomatoes and cook over medium heat for 5 mins, stirring occasionally. (If the sauce is a little acidic, add half a teaspoon of sugar).
Half fill the empty tomato can with water, and stir in, to loosen the sauce.
Slip the tuna steaks in under the sauce so they are covered. Add a swirl of olive oil and half the parsley, and simmer for 3 minutes until tuna has just a strip of pink inside.
Taste for chilli, salt and pepper and adjust thickness with water , stirring.
Serve the tuna steaks with the sauce and scatter with remaining parsley and black pepper. Serves 2-3.
Tip: If you’re cooking for 3 or 4, add another can of tomatoes and a slug of tomato passata.
Cook up some spaghetti or an interesting small pasta such as ditalini or mezzi tubetti, by all means, but don’t turn it into a full-on normal pasta dish, or the tuna won’t know what to do with itself. Keep it as a fish-first dish, one that has a little pasta in its beautiful sauce. And use the pasta cooking water to loosen the sauce.
Thanks for dropping by! And as always, thanks for your comments and suggestions. Special thanks to Terry for turning up in time.
I would also like to acknowledge the traditional owners of the lands and waters upon which I work, live, cook and play; the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation, and pay my respects to Elders past and present, and to the continuing strength and resilience of First Nations people, communities and cultures.
Just the suggestions I need. Today I slow cooked a lot of tomatoes and a capsicum ready to make some soup, but keeping aside a couple of the tomatoes to put in a pasta dish tomorrow night. Ok I have ruined it by also having prawns and chorizo, but I’m sure the anchovies and capers will sit well the dish, adding a bit of saltiness. I’ll keep your recipe for another night.
Top of my list to try! I have been recommended to use butter beans instead of pasta as I don’t tolerate gluten so this sounds perfect 🙏🏻