Nigella Lawson’s Spaghetti with Chard, Chilli, and Anchovies

I first ate this at a lovely restaurant, Fitzroy, in Fowey in Cornwall last Christmas, and knew that, once home, I had to make it myself. And I pretty much haven’t stopped since.

I like to use rainbow chard, chiefly, because I find myself cheered the instant I get a beautiful bunch of it in the house. It’s hard to believe it can even exist, with its ridiculously bright-hued stems – red, bright pink, orange, yellow, all jumbled together – and isn’t just the product of a nursery- schoolchild’s imagination. If I can’t get rainbow chard, I happily settle for ruby chard, the stalks almost indistinguishable from the reddest of rhubarbs. But any chard, so long as it’s tender, will do. And of course, do feel free to use cavolo nero, spinach, broccoli, beet tops or whatever else you may want, in place of the chard if you can’t get any.

While there is no point pretending that the anchovies aren’t central to this, it does seem a bit mean to give a recipe for pasta with vegetables without at least presenting a vegan-friendly alternative. I can’t quite reproduce the oomph of the anchovies, but black olives, finely chopped, are a good enough substi-tution so long as you can find those intense semi-dried ones in foil pouches or vacuum packed in jars or good unpitted olives in olive oil; the ones in brine are disappointingly lacking. Or increase the garlic and stir in a dab of Marmite. On top of that (to boost the elusive umami, and to replace the saltiness further provided by the Parmesan), you will need expansive recourse to nutritional yeast flakes and be prepared to salt the water the pasta cooks in with even more abandon than usual.

I cook the chard in what’s sometimes called a stir-fry pan – it looks rather like a wok, but has a flat bottom and comes with a lid – though any pot or pan that will have room for the spaghetti later, and which you can toss everything together in comfortably, would do. Or just use a medium-sized saucepan and toss pasta and sauce together in a warmed bowl.

I gladly make the spaghetti with chard, chilli and anchovies just for myself as well. While I concede it makes enough to serve two generously, I’m grateful for leftovers. It tastes excellent cold – especially with a little more extra-virgin olive oil and a spritz of lemon juice – even if this does sound idiosyncratic to Italians. But I dare say I have infuriated enough of them already by suggesting you grate over Parmesan or Pecorino Romano when you serve this first time out. The sacrosanct rules in Italy forbid cheese with pasta dishes that contain either a lot of garlic or fish: this is divinely abundant in both.