The 3-Ingredient Pasta Recipe That Anyone Can Make

Cacio e pepe traditionally features only pecorino cheese and black pepper, but the dish also welcomes all sorts of add-ins. (Alessio Orru/Shutterstock)

There is elegance in simplicity. And in this classic Roman pasta dish, there is also abundant flavor.

Cacio e pepe originated among shepherds who ate sheep’s milk cheese and dried pasta, and the name is the recipe: cheese and black pepper. The modern Italian word for cheese, formaggio, originated in ancient Greek and passed on through Latin and into the Romantic languages. The meaning of these roots was “form” or “shape”—in this case, the shape of pressed curd into a mold. The word “cacio,” however, is still used for some cheeses, especially in southern Italy, and it comes to us directly from the Latin word for cheese: caseus.

Curiously, it was also used as a comic term of endearment. (As a Wisconsinite, I could see an affectionate “my little cheese” catching on. An option for Valentine’s cards. I’m looking at you, Hallmark!)

Choose the Right Cheese

Pecorino Romano is a PDO product only produced in areas around Rome. (pirtuss/Shutterstock)

The traditional cheese in cacio e pepe is pecorino Romano, which is similar to Parmesan: It’s a hard cheese of a similar light color that’s perfectly suited for grating into a fine dusting on your dish. However, pecorino is made using sheep’s milk. There are those of us who aren’t big fans of that unmistakable flavor of the woollier milk producer—including yours truly—but because this cheese is aged for eight to 10 months, it loses some of its sheepiness, yet retains an appealing sharp, tangy funkiness, adding more pizzazz than Parmesan. Still, it’s unlikely that the Italian culture police will prosecute you if you swap in Parmesan or mix the two if you want to dial back the sharpness.

Don’t mistake cheese labeled simply Romano for pecorino Romano—the former may be made from cow’s milk. And while all pecorino derives from sheep’s milk, pecorino Romano is a PDO product (Protected Designation of Origin, DOP in Italian), only produced in areas around Rome. Pecorino Toscano, also PDO but from Tuscany, has similarities but is milder and less salty, and you may find PDO pecorino Siciliano (from Sicily) and Sardo (from Sardinia) as well. But none are equal to the character of the Roman variety.

Don’t Overcook Your Pasta

Maybe it’s school lunches or an upbringing in non-Italian households in the Midwest, but it seems to me that American pasta is often too mushy. Al dente, as any native Italian will insist, is the best (only?) way to eat pasta. Whether it’s spaghetti or rigatoni, you want the texture to have a bit of resistance—something to chew, not mash with your tongue!

If you make noodles fresh from dough, they’re more resistant to overcooking. But if, like most people, you’re dropping the dried stuff in a pot of salted boiling water (and this dish does specifically call for dried pasta), pay attention to the timer.

The cooking times on the package indicate al dente at the low range, but sometimes that’s just a minute too long or maybe two too short. The best way to know is to test it yourself.

Don’t Dump Your Pasta Water

The starchy pasta cooking water helps thicken and emulsify your cheese sauce for rich, creamy results. (Cavan-Images/Shutterstock)

Many instructions recommend a huge pot of boiling water, but you only need enough water in the pot to cover the pasta. This can prevent the furious boil-over common to home pasta making, but more importantly, it condenses the starches that cloud the water as the pasta boils. That’s used when you finish your sauce and helps thicken and emulsify your cheese sauce so that it sticks evenly to the pasta. Skim a cup off the surface when the pasta is done cooking, or pour the pasta through a strainer and keep the water.

Unlike tomato sauces, you aren’t going to cook this sauce beforehand. While the pasta is boiling, you will only toast the black pepper in a bit of oil, and then take the saucepan off the heat. When the pasta is al dente, strain it and add it to the saucepan. There’s no need to bring it back to a hot burner; the heat of the cooked pasta will be enough to finish cooking the sauce. Stir in the cheese, grated as finely as possible, in small increments, along with spoonfuls of the starchy pasta water. You’ll be surprised how quickly it thickens, but resist any urge to add too much water. It should be creamy but loose, not clumpy and thick, nor runny and thin.

Get Creative

I’ll ask the traditionalists to skip to the recipe now. Are they gone? OK, here’s what I love about this dish: It’s a delicious base for leftover ingredients. Asparagus? Mushrooms? Capers? Maybe a few shrimp? Work these in at the end of the process. Anything that requires cooking—unlike, say, olives or sun-dried tomatoes—can be cooked while the pasta boils, then stirred in with the noodles before you melt in the cheese.

But it’s optional—the simple cheese and black pepper combo is divine all by itself.

Cacio e Pepe

I’ve seen chefs such as Italian Max Mariola make cacio e pepe in a stainless steel flat-bottomed wok, performing a professional pan-flip to mix the pasta and sauce. I get more food on the rest of the kitchen this way, so I use an 8-inch, 3-quart saucier and a wooden spoon.

If you’re going rogue and adding other ingredients, cook them before the pasta is ready and mix them in as you stir the sauce.

Pair this with something that cuts through the creaminess, such as a salad with vinaigrette and a glass of acidic Italian white wine or a light-bodied red. Try a lightly effervescent Lambrusco, but make sure it’s not too sweet.

Serves 2 to 3

• 8 ounces dried bucatini or spaghetti
• Olive oil for cooking and drizzling
• 2 to 3 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper, plus extra for garnish
• 1 to 2 tablespoons unsalted butter (optional)
• 1/2 cup freshly and finely grated pecorino Romano, plus more for garnish (or substitute Parmesan or a blend of 1/4 cup of each cheese)

Get your pasta water on the stove. Add up to a tablespoon of salt. When it boils, add the pasta and cook until al dente according to package instructions.

Meanwhile, in a wide pan with tall edges, heat a bit of cooking oil over medium heat and toast the ground black pepper just enough to release an aroma; don’t burn it. Toss in a tablespoon or two of pasta water and shut off the heat. (Optionally, add the butter at this stage and let it melt. It’s nontraditional, but it adds some creaminess.)

When the pasta is al dente (don’t forget to taste test it), save at least a cup of pasta water, then strain the pasta and add it to the pan. Or, use tongs to transfer it directly from the water, still dripping, to the pan.

Gradually add the grated cheese, mixing constantly but gently with a wooden spoon, taking care not to let it clump up. Add pasta water as necessary to keep the sauce loose and give the cheese room to emulsify. The residual heat will thicken it. Serve with a drizzle of olive oil and extra black pepper.