Secret Spaghetti (pasta with garlic, oil, peppers and broccoli). Photo by James Siegel

Traditionally known as something like “pasta aglio e olio” with broccoli and peppers, variations of the dish my now wife Catherine calls Secret Spaghetti sustained me several times a week during the summer of 1990 in the Bloomsbury district of London. At the time, we were Brooklyn College students taking literature courses at London University and staying in International Hall in Bloomsbury. On a warm July evening, on our first date, I cooked it for Catherine.

Catherine had complained about the food at the local Italian eatery, Ciao Bella. I’d seen my opening and asked if I could cook for her. She accompanied me to the kitchen in International Hall seemingly amazed at what I took for granted — me cooking. As that tiny room, equipped with only a table, a double hot plate and a sink, began to fill with the aroma of fried garlic, Catherine said it smelled amazing. I poured the flavored garlic oil into my one large mixing bowl and brought a pot of water to boil. We talked about the play we’d just watched, a contemporary version of “Julius Caesar,” and our homework assignment to write about it.

When the meal was ready, we shared my mixing bowl of linguine. At the first taste, Catherine said, “What is this secret spaghetti?!” The bright green broccoli and deep red peppers with their black-brown edges visually contrasted with the grated Parmesan topping. The only bouquet for our first date was the scent of fried garlic. I was giddy and too naive to know it, but this was the beginning of Catherine’s falling for me.

James and Catherine Siegel as students in London in the summer of 1990. Photo by Catherine Siegel

Since that July evening almost 35 years ago, with over three decades of marriage behind us and on too many stovetops to count, I’ve varied the dish, sometimes adding toasted pine nuts or walnuts and anchovies, or most recently, lemon peel. The heady base of fried garlic, pungent extra-virgin olive oil and savory cheese pair perfectly with the earthy broccoli and the charred sweetness of the caramelized peppers. The nuts and anchovies, if you use them, add salt and umami depth, and the lemon peel a bright floral note. The recipe changes as our lives and moods change, and based on what’s available. The science of cooking lies in recipes, its art somewhere in its connection to the present.

Instead of following a recipe with precise measurements, I go by feel and years of experience making Secret Spaghetti. The version in the photographs here used 2 medium heads of broccoli, 2 small bell peppers (red and orange), and most of a head of garlic to make enough for my wife and me. We are hearty eaters, especially of vegetables. We had enough for a nice lunch the next day with the leftovers.

Secret Spaghetti likes its garlic light brown and crunchy so it’s important to slice the garlic uniformly (reserving 1 raw clove to finely dice) and to sprinkle it with salt to help remove moisture. The peppers are seeded and sliced into strips about a 1/4-inch thick so they can brown at their edges yet retain some bite. I cut the broccoli florets into bite-size pieces so they cook quickly.

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Secret Spaghetti mise en place. Photo by James Siegel

I find it best to set up the mise en place as the water for the pasta is coming to a furious boil. Assuming an 11-minute cooking time for al dente pasta, add the spaghetti to the boiling water and set the timer for 10 minutes once the water returns to a boil.

Meanwhile, get the sauce going. Forgoing a zester, I use a vegetable peeler to make strips of lemon peel. Set a saucepan to medium-high, add ⅛ cup (2 tablespoons) of extra-virgin olive oil and once it shimmers, add the lemon peel. Caramelize the lemon peel till its edges begin to brown, which flavors the oil, then add 2 more tablespoons oil and fry the garlic slices till they’re light brown and flavor the oil further. Remove the fried garlic and sprinkle it with salt, again to keep it crispy.

Remove the pan from the heat and add dried herbs, if you like. Catherine prefers Herbes de Provence, especially if the medley includes dried lavender, but if I have any fresh herbs growing, I’ll chop them and add them at the end. Once the lemon peel has cooled, julienne it and let it wait with the fried garlic and the diced raw clove.

Fry the peppers in the oil you used for the lemon rinds and garlic. Cover the pan with a splatter screen and turn the peppers every couple minutes. Once the edges begin to brown, turn off the heat and let the residual heat finish cooking the peppers. If you’re using an electric stove, you might need to move the pan off the burner.

When the pasta timer goes off, add the broccoli florets right in with the pasta, give the pot a thorough stir, and cover it. When steam starts escaping the lid after a few minutes, remove the lid and set your timer for 1 minute. While the pasta and broccoli finish cooking, add red pepper flakes to taste to the oil. You could also cook the broccoli separately (and have another dirty pot), which will help the broccoli stay more intact. When I make Secret Spaghetti for more than four people, I use a separate pot for the pasta and the broccoli.

Strain the pasta and broccoli through a colander, reserving some of the liquid. Return them to the pot, pour the flavored oil and peppers over them and stir. You’ll probably need to add more oil to the pasta and broccoli until it acquires a slight sheen. Now add ¼ cup of grated Parmesan (my favorite) or Romano (a good backup) cheese, the fried and raw garlic, the lemon peel, any fresh herbs and salt and pepper to taste. Add tablespoons of pasta water one at a time and stir until only a teaspoon or so falls to the bottom of the tilted pot. Stir a few more revolutions until the pasta water is incorporated into the dish.

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Plate, passing more grated cheese and ground pepper at the table.

MEET THE COOK: James Siegel

James and Catherine Siegel today. Photo by Catherine Siegel

I was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, which has been one influence on my cooking. My wife and I moved to Portland in the summer of 1998 without jobs or knowing anyone. We’d been ESL  (multilingual) teachers in Brooklyn and continued being educators in Maine. From 2011 to 2013 we taught in Lugano, a town in an Italian canton of Switzerland. I had been enamored of Brooklyn’s Italian food, and still am, but now have a better sense of how different it is from traditional Italian food.

I usually cook for my wife and myself. Much to her chagrin, my style is freestyling or improvisation depending upon what’s on sale and/or in the cupboard. Sometimes I’ll read several recipes and combine them to make our meal. I’ve cooked Thanksgiving dinner for almost a dozen years running and even though my second back surgery prevents me from hosting, my bagel stuffing is still in demand. I’ve sous-cheffed for my mother, who was a pastry chef after she retired from a career as a kindergarten teacher; I cook for friends; and as a member of a centuries-old artist group in Provincetown, Massachusetts, I cook for 30-50 artists on a budget of $15 a head.

These days, I work for the Portland Public Schools as a consultant, helping teachers tailor their curriculums for our brightest students. I also have a masters in teaching English as a second language, and a BFA and an MFA in writing poetry. My older brother is a Master Maine Guide. We fish and hunt together and enjoy cooking what we harvest from Maine’s woods, lakes, streams, rivers and coastlines.

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