Too many cooks (but only of the British kind)

Last night, I decided to play with fire and push the boundaries. It was a Saturday night, I'd had a glass of wine and was in the company of good friends. Feeling a bit cocky, I thought it was time to make the move from dish-washer to sous chef. After five months of observing dinner-prep, my housemates had begun to release their apron strings; occasionally I was asked to taste the food, prior to serving. This seemed to be a sure-sign that my opinion, albeit English, was worth taking into consideration. The next step, I allowed my ego to believe, was active participation, rather than passive commentary.

After much deliberation at the supermarket, my friends had decided to forgo the seasonal choice of pumpkin risotto or pasta with artichokes (they almost choked when I told them I didn't know what to do with fresh artichokes, having only used the ones in jars) to indulge my passion for seafood spaghetti. Naturally, this came with the pre-condition that I pay due attention to the creation of artichoke risotto and pasta next week (not one or the other but both).

In England, whenever I eat at an Italian restaurant I opt for seafood pasta. It's my favourite and something I'm well versed in, having cooked it lots of times at home. When I first arrived in Italy, I was dismayed to find that Italian restaurants only serve fish when located near the sea. Although my Italian friends (not trusting any cuisine that isn't Italian) joke that the local chinese restaurant serves fish caught from the Arno (NB very brown and murky!) It seemed the perfect dish for me to impart some knowledge and prove my clinary worth as a Brit who doesn't eat fish solely of the battered form (or out of newspaper). So for Queen and Country, I did it. I tried to dabble in the Italian kitchen.

Whilst my friend was giving the 'sugo' a final stir, I suggested that she add a drop of wine to the tomato sauce. White wine always enhnaces the flavour of fish - doesn't it? They go together like apples and cheese, marmite and crumpets, jam and scones. I was so convinced that I actually reached for the bottle... only to be rapped with the wooden spoon and a series of tuts. Yes, white wine goes with fish but white wine doesn't go with tomatoes. So there we have it, after five months and one baby step forward (white wine does go with fish - hurrah!), I still have a long way to go before dishing out cooking tips, especially to Italians brandishing cooking utensils.

Ammunition to prevent future knuckle-rapping mishaps:

1) Pesto should never be cooked - the rocket is 'crudo' raw. Stir into the pasta, once the heat is OFF.

2) Pasta requires a handful of salt in the water. Be brave.

3) Oil should be added to pasta once it is cooked - not during. Contrary to British belief, the boiling water does NOT require oil. The pasta will only stick if it's bad quality (yes, the British don't know good pasta from bad pasta... hahaha)

4) Stand to attention at all times and man your post. An Italian will never trust the instructions on the packet - test as you wait.

5) Think outside of the box. The pasta will still be cooking after you've drained it. Allow for this and turn off the heat once the pasta is a little hard.

6) Pasta is important; it takes priority. A pasta dish should consist predominantly of pasta, not sauce. My male housemate has two tablespoons of meat sauce MAX to his spag bol. Apparently mine resembled a mud pie. NB: Do NOT aim to tarmac the road with your 'sugo' (shame)

HOT TIP
Sauce-lovers should always angle for the final serving in the pan (whilst getting brownie points for appearing polite...)