Years ago, I was served butternut squash broth as part of a dinner by a chef called Toto Dell’Aringa. It was a great dinner, but it was also during a year of hellish ear infections and I was dosed up on painkillers. Which is why I remember so little about the evening, beyond a steep modern staircase with no railing and that broth, which had stuffed pasta bobbing around in it. Not that I can remember the pasta shape or what it was stuffed with. Only the orange, savoury-sweet butternut liquor, and how it was full of flavour and also how, when eaten with my head tilted to one side, it felt like a warm, internal compress. An odd compliment, I know, but also the highest one.
Both the English word broth and the Italian word brodo have the same root, the proto-Germanic bruþą, which means “to boil, bubble, effervesce” in relation to both cooking and brewing, also a “liquid in which something has been boiled”. Another definition is from the Roman writer Ada Boni, who describes brodo as a liquid to which meat, fish or vegetables have gifted flavour. That’s not only a good description, but also one that makes whatever is in the pan seem big-hearted, giving away the best of itself.
There is a risk with foods that heal or provide comfort when you are in delirious pain, a risk that they get consigned to the soothing rehabilitation category. Fortunately for butternut squash broth, it is far too good to get stuck there. Also, with its sweet and savoury roundness (much more so than most vegetable broths), it provides a serious alternative to chicken broth as a liquor in which to cook tiny pasta – rings, small squares, letters, tiny tubes, butterflies or any other diminutive shape in the large pastina family. It is great with tiny filled pasta, too, which are so welcome always, and especially at this time of year.
The quantities given here should produce a dish that is dense with pasta, but also brothy enough to require a spoon. You can always add a bit more broth or water if it seems a bit stiff, and remember, the pasta will continue to swell, so the dish always thickens on its way to the table. When you are serving, make sure everyone has a good proportion of pasta and broth, then finish each serving with a generous swirl of olive oil and some red chilli flakes. A good amount of finely grated parmesan is essential for brodo and pastina, I think, so use a vegetarian or vegan one, if you prefer. It clouds the broth and dulls the orange, but also gives deep, rich flavour.
Butternut broth and pastina
Prep 15 min
Cook 1 hr 40 min
Serves 4
1 butternut squash
1 large onion
1 large carrot
2 celery sticks
A few parsley stalks
1 bay leaf
A few peppercorns
Salt
320g small pasta, or broken spaghetti or tagliatelle
Red chilli flakes (optional)
Olive oil
Finely grated parmesan, or vegetarian or vegan equivalent
Wash, the butternut, then cut it in half, scoop out and discard the seeds, and cut the unpeeled flesh into large chunks. Peel and halve the onion and carrot, and chop the sticks of celery into three. Put all the vegetables in a pan with the parsley, bay leaf, peppercorns and a big pinch of salt, then cover with 2.2 litres of water.
Bring to a boil, then turn down to a simmer and cook for an hour and a half. Halfway through, mash the vegetables so they break up (and give more flavour). Strain, pressing the vegetables firmly to eke out all that flavour, and add salt as required.
Put 1½ litres of the broth back in the pan (freeze any excess), bring back to a boil, add the pasta and cook until done. Divide between bowls, making sure everyone has enough pasta and broth, and top with a few chilli flakes, a swirl of olive oil and some grated cheese.