Shocking as it may be, I don’t think I’ve ordered delivery pizza in my life—ever. I grew up far enough from any town (or grocery store or coffee shop or anything) that I doubt you could have gotten delivery even if you’d wanted to, although that’s an untested theory. In college, you only ate pizza late at night at the campus center if you needed to soak up a substantial amount of beer and/or shots of tepid Southern Comfort and/or vodka mixed with cranberry juice, poured into sticky red Solo cups in the common room shared by four sophomore boys, the floor strewn in typical college-boy-fashion with all manner of lacrosse sticks and open bags of Doritos and a Martha’s Vineyard Black Dog sweatshirt and a stack of psychology textbooks and a scientific calculator and a pair of soccer cleats.
I moved to Manhattan and still never ordered pizza. I was, and remain, mystified as to why you would in a city; if anything, a city is the place not to order delivery. It doesn’t save you time or the pain of getting in your car. You can just…run down the stairs and around the corner in your sweats and in minutes, pick up some of the best pizza in the world. It’s faster than waiting for someone to bring it to you, and honestly, you don’t even need to put on a bra. (Not that I would do that, I’m a lady, I’m just SAYING. It’s an option.)
All that is preface to noting that most of the pizza I’ve eaten over the years is less of the puffy Dominos variety and more of the crackly crust, homemade variety. My mom’s is excellent and always varied depending on what she has in the house. Maybe it’s topped with quickly sautéed broccoli and thinly sliced bell peppers. Maybe it has just mozzarella and her own tomato sauce. For a few months awhile back, she was making an especially great version—she’d puree white beans into a hummus-like paste and spread that over the dough, then top it with cheese and vegetables. It works under tomato sauce too, though I prefer it as a white pie.
You’d never be able to guess the key ingredient—the pizza had this wonderfully savory flavor to it, almost creamy and extra-cheesy, but tasted nothing at all like white beans.
Cannellini beans—the kind she uses—are really mild-tasting, imparting mostly texture. Ever since she made that pizza, I’ve been reminding myself to try the same trick elsewhere: on toast, maybe, or as a sauce.
It wasn’t until last weekend that I remembered to actually A: buy cannellini beans and B: plan to cook with them and C: execute on point B.
Here’s what I did: I cooked pasta (I used Sfoglini’s basil reginetti) to just shy of al dente. I set that aside while I added a can of rinsed white beans to a large skillet along with two cloves of garlic, minced, and about 1/2 cup of water. I cooked that in a generous amount of olive oil for a few minutes, then seasoned it with salt and pepper and added it to a blender with 3 tablespoons of nutritional yeast and a squeeze of lemon juice.
I blended the sauce until smooth and creamy, then added it back to the skillet with the cooked pasta, a bit more water, and a few handfuls of greens (I did I mix of arugula and kale).
Let me just say…this sauce is addictive. So incredibly good—and if you like spice, I think it would be nice with a pinch of red pepper flakes.
Actual recipe follows—and if you were hoping, based on the first five paragraphs, that this would be a recipe for pizza, I…am sorry. Just keeping you on your toes!
Creamy Pasta with Greens
1 pound dried pasta
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 can cannellini or other small white beans, rinsed
1/2 cup water or vegetable broth
salt and pepper to taste
3 tablespoons nutritional yeast
juice of one lemon
4 cups fresh greens, lightly packed (I used chopped kale and arugula but spinach would be great too)
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook until just shy of al dente. Drain the pasta and set aside.
In a large, deep skillet, heat the olive oil and add the garlic. Cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds to a minute, then add the beans and water (or vegetable broth) and cook for about 3 to 4 minutes.
Transfer the bean mixture to a blender, season to taste, and add the nutritional yeast and lemon juice. Blend until creamy and smooth. (No need to wipe out the pan.) If you like heat, add a pinch of red pepper flakes.
The sauce should be pourable but slightly thick—if it’s too thick, add a bit of water or vegetable broth and blend more.
Add the cooked pasta to the same skillet. Add the sauce and the greens and cook until warmed through and the greens are wilted.
Serve hot.