The first time I put amatriciana on the menu at Tiella I was incredibly nervous. It’s one of the four great Roman pastas (along with cacio e pepe, gricia and carbonara) and since it’s my favourite of the lot, I wanted to honour the original recipe as much as possible. Speak to any Roman and they are deeply protective of their pasta, perhaps because so much of the world has taken their culinary ideas for a spin. There are times when I feel deeply passionate about tradition and ‘authenticity’, and others when I wish the rules would relax. When it comes to amatriciana, I wouldn’t dare mess with it. The dish is said to have originated in the town of Amatrice, neighbouring Rome. Supposedly the movement of shepherds between Abruzzo and Lazio brought the dish to the city. Gricia predated it, made with guanciale(cured pork cheek), pecorino and black pepper, but with the arrival of tomatoes in the 16th century, the dish evolved. I love the way the acidity of the tomatoes counteracts the richness of the guanciale, the depth of the pecorino and the heat from the black pepper. I encourage you seek out guanciale for this dish. The fat ratio and spicing of this cured meat impart a unique flavour and viscosity to the sauce. In lieu of guanciale, pancetta is more than suitable, but I won’t make an exception for the cheese – pecorino Romano is mandatory. The distinctive, sharp, tangy flavour of the sheep’s milk adds a crucial element to the dish. I’ll look the other way if you use Parmigiano, but you’ll lose a certain level of funk and freshness. Traditionally, amatriciana is paired with bucatini, the hollow centre of the pasta catching tiny waves of the sauce. Tonnarelli, spaghetti and mezze rigatoni also work beautifully. Rendering the guanciale very slowly is vital to the success of this dish. If your pan gets too hot too quickly, you won’t achieve optimal crispiness.