There is always someone who arrives one second before the first mouthful.
They look at the plate.
They make that face.
Then they say:
“You don’t put cream in pasta.”
For certain chefs, cream is like Satan in a church.
Not an ingredient.
A presence to be exorcised.
The moment it appears in a recipe, out come the important words:
tradition,
authenticity,
the original recipe,
grandmother.
Especially grandmother.
Grandmother is summoned remarkably often when someone must be prevented from eating in peace.
And yet cream has one virtue nobody seems willing to acknowledge:
it does its job.
It makes creamy what was not creamy before.
It holds together mushrooms, ham, peas, cheese, leftovers and those evenings when the desire to cook has already gone to bed.
Yes, it masks flavours.
Sometimes.
Yes, it is a shortcut.
That too.
But not every dinner needs to become a technical challenge on MasterChef.
Sometimes we are simply hungry.
The curious thing is that food, which ought to be one of the most personal and pleasurable things we have, has become crowded with rules.
Carbonara must be made this way.
Ragù must be made that way.
Cappuccino after lunch is forbidden.
Pineapple on pizza probably means losing your citizenship.
And cream?
Do not even mention cream.
But then there is one detail.
The plate is mine.
If I want to finish the pasta with cooking water, pecorino and a technique handed down through five generations, wonderful.
If instead it is Tuesday evening, I have mushrooms, a carton of cream and no intention of proving anything to anyone, that is fine too.
I am not rewriting Italian cuisine.
I am having dinner.
Perhaps cream is not even the problem.
Perhaps it is this strange need we have to turn every personal taste into a universal rule.
“This is how it is done.”
“This is not done.”
“This is authentic.”
“This is wrong.”
As if pleasure needed a rule book.
So do carry on defending tradition.
It matters.
But leave us a small free zone too.
A place where we can put two spoonfuls of cream into pasta without convening a gastronomic tribunal.
Italian cuisine will survive.
Probably so will we.
And if it tastes good,
we will mop up the sauce too.
Andrea Morel