I tried the Arrabbiata tomato sauce by Rustichella d'Abruzzo because I was looking for an "emergency" pasta sauce - something I could do when I had no time or no energy to make a proper meal. Arrabbiata is a fairly simple traditional Italian sauce that contains garlic and/or onions and has a spicy kick from hot chili peppers or pepper flakes. The name of the sauce means "enraged," indicating how angry the sauce is from the addition of chilis. I enjoy making this vegetarian sauce and have made it many times. I've also had it once or twice in Italy. So I know what a good all' Arrabbiata tastes like.

This is not a good Arrabbiata sauce. I first tasted the sauce cold, sampling the little bit that clung to the lid when I opened the jar. It had the acrid taste of raw cayenne powder. Still, I decided to follow the preparation instructions and give it a chance. The recommended preparation was simple enough: just simmer for one or two minutes and serve. Some oil is present in the sauce, and acrid spices such as cayenne need to be cooked with fat to lose their gritty, raw flavor. So I figured there was a chance that following the instructions would help.

It didn't. After simmering for 3-4 minutes, I sampled the sauce again on a small piece of bread. The raw cayenne flavor was still there. I was frustrated, but not enough to waste the sauce. So I set about salvaging the stuff, beginning with sauteing garlic in olive oil. I then added the sauce to the saute pan and cooked it with the additional oil for about five minutes. Another taste test was not encouraging. More camouflage for this inferior sauce was going to be necessary. (Typically, when dried chili pepper flakes or powder are included in sauces, they are thoroughly cooked early in the recipe, often added just after onions or garlic are sauteed in oil. Cooking them properly when they are blended into a watery sauce is difficult.)

In the end, I pulled several extra ingredients out of the fridge, by that time resigned to completely changing the character of the sauce. Since the sauce had plenty of spicy heat to it, I decided dilution would be the answer. Mixed with garden kale lacinato, a tiny bit of leftover sausage, and a healthy dollop of cream, the sauce tasted good. The additional fat of the cream had finally mellowed the sharp, gritty character of the cayenne pepper.

I want to be clear - it wasn't the hotness of the cayenne that bothered me. I expected the sauce to be hot, and I like a feisty all' Arrabbiata. But dried cayenne powder has to be properly blended with fat in order to lose its rather unpleasant raw qualities. That's a major culinary flaw that should not be present in a finished sauce.

It was just as well in the end that I bulked this sauce up with other ingredients. The jar is rather small, containing just 270 grams of sauce, or just over a cup in volume. And unfortunately, the label does not indicate how much pasta this sauce is meant to accompany. The amount I ended up with after my own additions adequately sauced a pound of pasta. What was in the jar would not have been nearly enough on its own. Maybe it would have sufficed for half a pound; I don't know. The label really should have given a suggestion at least.

While I'm sorry to have wasted my money on this product, what really saddens me is that some people are going to try this sauce and dislike it, and then conclude that they simply don't care for Arrabbiata sauce in general. The sauce is an excellent one when well prepared.

In the end, I have to conclude that this is another example of the Italians exporting inferior quality products while keeping the good stuff for themselves. They do that, you know. While this sauce was not unsalvageable, it certainly does not answer for an effortless meal. To cap everything off, I have a good recipe for Arrabbiata that could easily have been prepared in the time I spent doctoring up this sauce to make it palatable. I won't be buying Rustichella d'Abruzzo's Arrabbiata sauce again.



Other edibles found in my kitchen, or not, as the case may be:

• Muir Glen Fire Roasted Tomatoes - A distinctive note in any recipe calling for canned tomatoes
• Muir Glen Organic Hearty Tomato Soup - for when the chef doesn't feel like cooking
• Twinings Prince of Wales Tea - Distinctive yet mellow, good for an afternoon cuppa
• Arrowhead Mills Organic Popcorn - Happiness by the bowl
• Wasabi Powder - Sinus-clearing fun in a can
• Rothschild Raspberry Preserves - Culinary gold you can spread on toast
• Ancho Chile Powder - Add pizzazz to so many different dishes
• Vanilla Saffron Imports - supplies me with excellent whole vanilla beans
• Campofrio Lomo - long-cured Spanish pork indulgence
• Coppola's organic Mafalde pasta - fancy pasta for an occasional indulgence
• McCann's Steel Cut Oats - eat like a king on a peasant's budget
• Central Milling Organic Bread Flour - better than white flour, better than whole wheat
• Kadoya Toasted Sesame Oil - concentrated sesame flavor


Recommended: No