Puttanesca
part 2* - When the Kitchen Is Quiet
After all the talk of pasta, nonnas, and zucchini misunderstandings, the plan was simple: meet a friend, make dough, let the kitchen fill with flour and conversation.
But the day arrived, and my friend was sick.
So instead of rolling pasta together, I found myself alone in the kitchen, making the puttanesca I’d been thinking about all week. The sauce must go on, they say. And it did. As promised the recipe Is attached!
For me, food has always been a shared experience. Long before recipes were written down, people gathered to prepare meals together. With hands moving side by side, techniques and flavors passed along, work made lighter by conversation as something nourishing took shape.
I love being in my kitchen, and often I’m there alone, creating simply for the fun of it. I don’t mind the solitude. But even then, my thoughts drift outward. Who might this dish end up feeding? And why? Will the zucchini chunks be big enough to pick out?
I much prefer knowing who I’m cooking for. It changes how I season. How long I let something simmer. Where I place my attention. Cooking has never been just about the food, it’s about care, and the way we connect. Not only to each other, but to the land itself.
This was my first time making puttanesca, and the process was easy enough. Adding the roasted garlic, mushrooms and even the zucchini without overthinking it. Working with long-stem artichokes, these are sometimes hard to find but absolutely worth the effort. Ingredients like that ask you to slow down and pay attention.
Since there was no pasta that day, after a slow simmer I spooned the sauce over a bowl of hot rice, finishing it with fresh basil and a drizzle of olive oil. I called it perfect. A friend later suggested it over hash browns, which immediately felt like a very good idea. Maybe next time.
There was a little sauce left, and on Sunday I let it become something else. I added more chopped tomato and just a touch of vegetable stock, turning it into a simple soup. The anchovies melted into the broth, bringing a deep, salty brine that surprised me in the best way.
I love how one dish can transform into another. How it can show up differently and still feel familiar. How it can be shared in many forms, across many tables.
A lot like connection.
This puttanesca comes from that lineage. Made with intention. Meant to be shared. Bold, briny, and generous.
Puttanesca with Artichokes, Zucchini & Mushrooms
Ingredients
2 tablespoons avocado oil, divided
1 tablespoons olive oil
1 (2-ounce) can anchovies, chopped
3 tablespoons capers, nonpareil preferred, rinsed well
10 large garlic cloves, roasted (see Chef Notes)
½ cup pitted Spanish or Greek olives, chopped I used raw, hand-pitted, semi-dried organic Sevillano olives from Good Faith Olive Farm (Kalamata or black olives work too—use your favorite)
⅓ cup peperoncini peppers, caps removed and sliced (or ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes)
1 (28-ounce) can diced tomatoes (fire-roasted if available)
4 long-stem roasted artichoke hearts, cut into bite-size pieces (or 1 (14-ounce) can artichoke hearts, squeezed dry and halved)
1 medium zucchini, sliced into half-moons
2 cups sliced mushrooms (I used a mix of porcini, portobello, and cremini)
Salt & black pepper, to taste (go easy on the salt)
Optional: fresh basil, chiffonade
Directions
Sauté the vegetables
Heat 1 tablespoon avocado oil (or roasted garlic oil) in a large skillet over medium heat.
Add zucchini and mushrooms with a pinch of salt and cook until lightly golden and just tender, 4–5 minutes. Remove from pan and set aside.
Build the base
Add 1 tablespoon avocado oil to the same skillet.
Add anchovies, capers, and roasted garlic. Cook, stirring, until anchovies dissolve and garlic is fragrant, about 2 minutes.
Add the briny elements
Stir in olives and peperoncini (or red pepper flakes). Cook for 1 minute.
Tomatoes & simmer
Add tomatoes with their juices. Rinse the can with about 1 cup water and add that as well.
Bring to a gentle simmer and cook 10–15 minutes, allowing flavors to meld.
Fold it together
Add artichokes, zucchini, and mushrooms back into the sauce. Warm through.
Taste and season with black pepper and salt if needed.
Serve
Finish with fresh basil and a drizzle of olive oil. Serve over pasta, rice or even hash browns.
Cheese is optional—pecorino is best, but Parmesan is also a winner.
Chef Notes:
Roasted Garlic
4 large heads garlic, cloves separated and peeled
1 cup olive oil
Preheat oven to 250°F.
Place garlic cloves and oil in a small baking dish.
Bake 1½–2 hours, until cloves are soft, golden, and jammy.
Store in a clean jar in the refrigerator and use within 2 weeks.
This dish thrives on pantry confidence—bold flavors, no fuss.
Zucchini and mushrooms keep it grounded, adding a soft vegetable note that balances the brine.
Leftovers are even better the next day. In fact, I usually make this the day before I plan to serve it.
*Part One of this story and the origin of the large zucchini chunks lives in my Notes, if you missed it you can find it there.