I am exceptionally fond of the tiniest pasta shapes: the barley shaped orzo and the star-like stelline, so quietly satisfying even in the thinnest of chicken broths. This is probably why I have taken to fregola with such gusto. Made in the same way as couscous, the wheat dough is rubbed until it forms tiny pill-like beads. (The name comes from fricare, the Latin for rub and from where we get the word friction.) Possessing a texture somewhere between the fine, sandy grains of couscous and the juicy pearls of mograbia, fregola is silky and somehow manages to be both light and substantial.
There is no flavour of course – that is where we come in with our garlic and pepper, saffron and tomatoes. But there is a toasty note to some brands, from where the beads of starch have been lightly toasted (fregola tostata) as they dry.
You cook this Sardinian carb in deep, boiling water. Steaming it as you might its finer cousin will result in a stodgy mass. Cooked in water, sometimes stock, it will be chewily ready in 10-12 minutes – the point at which to add it to simmering tomato sauce or a home-made chicken stock. The beads will soak up the notes of garlic, bay or peppery olive oil, and plump up with a succulence unavailable in fine couscous.
This week I added fire to a quantity of cooked fregola in the form of harissa paste and scarlet tomatoes and later, in a second guise for a garden lunch, the crunch of cucumber both refreshingly raw and lip-stingingly quick-pickled. (Dressed with olive oil the little pearls of pasta keep better than you might expect overnight in the fridge.)
I look forward to cooler weather when fregola will add substance to a bowl of soup. Right now, it is my prime candidate for tossing with pieces of chopped golden cherry tomatoes or shreds of roasted beetroot and a mustard-spiked dressing. I use it for bolstering a salad of raw sugar snaps, grilled courgettes or steamed asparagus that would otherwise lack backbone. I wish I had met fregola years ago instead of allowing myself to be seduced by cute bows of farfalle and the unfailingly bouncy conchiglie. What is more, I can hardly wait to use it later in the season with clams or mussels, where it will sit in their open shells like tiny pearls soaking up the seafood’s sweet garlicky juices.
Fregola, cucumber and orange
A salad for a summer’s day. I used small cucumbers here, weighing about 150g a piece. Larger ones, more accessible, will be fine too but you may need to cut the slices in half.
Serves 2
cucumber 1, small, about 150g
caster sugar 1 tbsp
sea salt 1 tsp
coriander seeds 1 tsp
white wine vinegar 5 tbsp
dill 2 tbsp, finely chopped
fregola 150g
cucumber 1, small, about 150g
olive oil 2 tbsp
orange 1, large
spring onions 2, finely chopped
watercress a handful
To make the pickle, thinly slice the cucumber and put in a small mixing bowl. Mix the sugar, sea salt, coriander seeds, vinegar and dill and stir until the sugar has dissolved. Pour over the cucumber, cover and place somewhere cool for an hour. The cucumber will darken a little in colour and soften slightly, but should retain its crunch.
Bring a saucepan of water to the boil, salt it lightly, then tip in the fregola. Simmer for about 10 minutes, testing regularly for tenderness. Drain thoroughly, tip into a bowl then sprinkle a few drops of olive oil over it and toss to coat evenly. This will stop the beads sticking together as they cool.
Peel the second cucumber, halve it lengthways and cut it into 1cm chunks. Peel the orange with a kitchen knife, taking care to remove the white pith, then cut into thin slices.
Warm the oil in a shallow pan, add the raw cucumber pieces and continue to fry them gently. Add the spring onion to the pan with the drained fregola. Season with salt and black pepper. Fold the pickled cucumber and its liquid into the ingredients, add the watercress then stir briefly. Divide between plates and place the orange slices at its side.
Sausage and fregola with harissa
Something for a cool summer evening. The quality of the tomatoes matters, but don’t be afraid to introduce a little sugar if yours are less exciting than they could be. It is surprising how much even a pinch can help lift them. Add the harissa paste according to your taste; some brands can be exceptionally hot. For a vegetarian version I’d be tempted to swap the sausages for chunks of aubergine which is quite appropriate to the heart and soul of this recipe, adding more oil as necessary.
Serves 2, generously
olive oil 2 tbsp
sausages 6, large, herby rather than spicy
assorted tomatoes 400g
fregola 150g
harissa paste 1-2 tbsp
olive oil to finish
Warm the oil in a large, shallow-sided pan and fry the sausages over a low to moderate heat until nicely browned. Remove the sausages, slice them thickly then return them to the pan. Roughly chop the tomatoes and add them to the sausages, letting them soften and collapse into a rough sauce over a moderate heat.
Put a large pan of water on to boil and add a little salt. Tip in the fregola and leave to boil for 10 minutes. Check its progress regularly, draining it as soon as it is tender.
Stir the harissa paste into the tomatoes and season with a little salt. (You won’t need much.). Cook until you have a rich, thick sauce then stir in the drained fregola. Check the seasoning and serve.
Email Nigel at nigel.slater@observer.co.uk or follow him on Twitter @NigelSlater
