Picking a most loved pasta resembles picking a most loved outfit: A clearly inconceivable undertaking, but there are those you hold returning to, riffing on unendingly until you’re certain you’ve depleted all blends, at that point as yet discovering more to love. For me, that pasta is this briny, tomatoey, almost stewlike fish number. (Kindly don’t request that I pick a most loved outfit.)
I generally begin with a fundamental, lighter-than-common tomato sauce, utilizing canned, peeled tomatoes and thick cuts of garlic toasted in olive oil. I add a couple of hunks of mellow, firm fleshed angle like cod, halibut or swordfish, to delicately poach in the brothy tomatoes, and a couple of unpeeled shrimp, the kind of their shells enhancing everything in the pot. (In the event that you incline toward shrimp that is now peeled, that is O.K.) After everything blends together for a couple of minutes, it turns into the sauce dreams are made of, destined to coat fat tubes or thin strands of still somewhat firm pasta.
The lay relies upon my inclination and on the sort of fish accessible to me when the hankering strikes, which is … well, regularly. I’ve made variants highlighting new squid, cut into nibble measure rings and stewed in the sauce; sleek sardines singed as an afterthought and served to finish everything; and entire tins of salty anchovies softened into olive oil close by a sound squeeze of chile chips.
The excellence of this strategy for getting ready fish, other than the self-evident (there is pasta included), is that it’s almost difficult to overcook, dry out or — everyone’s most exceedingly awful fish-based dread — get adhered to the pan. The fish additionally unobtrusively enhances the sauce, making it taste significantly more mind boggling than it should considering the quantity of fixings you’re using. Think of it as an extremely easygoing, one-pot bouillabaisse with a large portion of the means and done in a small amount of the time, and where pretty much any fish is welcome.