I actually stumbled upon this pasta while attempting to use up the leftover feta in the fridge before it all went off. My boyfriend was slightly dubious when he learned that I was going to make feta and roast capsicum pasta for lunch, however his attitude changed after the first mouthful.
The lemon zest adds a subtle zing among the salty, tangy creaminess of the feta cheese, and the hint of sweetness which comes from the roast capsicum. Though freshly roasted capsicum would be ideal, you can use jarred ones like I have which still tastes delicious.
There is something so incredibly satisfying about sinking a fork into a mound of saucy pasta, twisting it to coil thick strands of spaghetti into a messy mouthful. When I have an itch for spaghetti, it’s not the taste that I am after per se, but the ritual of eating it.
This recipe was born after my boyfriend and I decided we wanted “some sort of saucy tomato pasta” for dinner. I thought about using meat, but I felt that it might interfere with the sauciness.
There are a lot of flavours in this recipe, but they work well together. There is a bite of heat to it provided by the fresh red chilli, along with a hint of white wine, and a good amount of fresh, pungent herbs. Every now and then you get a juicy burst of salt, courtesy of the capers. I only recently discovered capers, and my life has changed for the better. Now, the anchovies. If you’re happy to use them, disregard this, but if you’re a hater, consider this: when used in small amounts, anchovies provide depth and base to the flavour without overriding the dish with fishiness. Take a risk and give them a go, I promise the final product won’t taste fishy (if it did my boyfriend would have refused to eat it, and he ended up lying on the floor digesting).