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How much water, how much salt, and why timing matters at 4,600 feet

About 18 minutes

How Much Water, How Much Salt, and Why Timing Matters at 4,600 Feet

Here's the thing about this lesson. We already talked about salting the water like the ocean a few lessons back, so some of this is going to sound familiar. That's fine. This is the lesson where we actually get the pasta in the pot and put the whole meal together, so it's worth going over again with the ragu sitting there waiting on us.

Let's start with water, because people underdo it. You want a big pot, more water than feels necessary. For a pound of pasta I'm using something like 4 to 6 quarts. The reason isn't really about drowning the noodles, it's that pasta releases starch as it cooks, and if you don't have enough water, that starch builds up and the water gets thick and cloudy and the pasta can actually stick together or cook unevenly. A big pot of water stays close to a boil the whole time instead of dropping to a simmer the second you add pasta to it.

Salt goes in once the water's at a rolling boil, not before. I use about 2 tablespoons of kosher salt per gallon of water. That sounds like alot and it is alot, and that's the point. This is the one chance you get to season the pasta itself, from the inside, instead of just the sauce sitting on top of it. I didn't do this for years and I regret it a little. Salt the water like the ocean. It's the cheapest improvement you'll make in this whole course and almost nobody does it.

Now, the elevation part, because this is where I get a little proud of myself, honestly.

I timed the same box of dried pasta at my sister's place near sea level and at home here, and the minutes were genuinely different. Not a huge difference, but real. Water boils at a lower temperature the higher up you go, and we're sitting around 4,600 feet here in American Fork, so our water is boiling at something like 202 degrees instead of 212. That means it's working a little less hard on the pasta per minute, so things take a bit longer than the box says. I wrote it down in my journal like I'd discovered gravity. Maybe I had, for me anyway.

Practically, here's what that means for you tonight:

  • Take the package time and start checking about a minute or two early anyway, but don't be surprised if you go a minute or two past what the box says.
  • Forget the clock past that point. Fish out a piece and bite it. You're looking for tender with just the faintest bit of resistance in the center, what the box calls al dente, which just means "to the tooth." If it's chalky in the middle, it needs more time no matter what the timer says.
  • Save a cup of the pasta water before you drain. That starchy water is going to help the sauce cling to the noodles instead of just sitting next to them. I use a mug I keep by the stove just for this, so I don't forget and pour the whole pot down the drain, which I have absolutely done.

Once it's ready, drain it, don't rinse it (rinsing washes off the starch that's supposed to help the sauce stick), and get it into the pan with your ragu while both are still hot. This is the "putting it together" part. Toss it right in the sauce for a minute over low heat, adding a splash of that pasta water if it looks dry. You're not just pouring sauce over noodles on a plate, you're marrying the two in the pan for a minute so the pasta actually tastes like something instead of being a plain noodle with sauce parked on top.

My mother-in-law watched me cook once, early on, and told me I "fuss too much." She wasn't wrong. I used to hover over the pasta pot the whole time, stirring, checking, moving it around like it needed supervision. It doesn't. Once the water's boiling and salted and the pasta's in, you can walk away and go check on your sauce, or set the table, or wipe down a counter. Give it a stir now and then so it doesn't clump, but the pot knows what it's doing. You don't have to fuss it into cooperating.

I'll be honest, the timing stuff took me longer to figure out than it should have, mostly because I kept trusting the box instead of trusting my own mouth. The box was written by somebody at sea level who's never dealt with our water. Taste as you go. That's the whole lesson, really, dressed up with some numbers about elevation.

Before next time: boil a pot of water at home, salt it properly even if you're not making a full dinner, and just time how long your favorite pasta actually takes here versus what the box says. Write it down somewhere you'll find it again.

How much water, how much salt, and why timing matters at 4,600 feet — Beyond Weeknight Italian: Sauces, Braises, and Fresh Pasta · Utah Community Learning