‘Nduja is a spicy, spreadable, Calabrian sausage up there with the trendiest of ingredients. For months I’ve resisted its porky charms, the only reason being that my only other experience with a (different) spreadable sausage (at a very popular East London restaurant) ended in 3 days of food poisoning hell. The very idea of spreadable meat made me queasy, until I came across a ‘nduja stall in Borough Market last week. The giant red lobes glistened seductively in the sunlight, I approached cautiously for a taste, then promptly kicked myself for being such a wuss and missing out on what is one of the most delicious pork products I’ve tasted in a very long time.

It is made mostly from bits of the head, super-charged with outrageous quantities of fiery red Calabrian chilli pepper (at least 60% according to some websites) which gives it the most intensely savoury umami addictive quality. You can just taste the sun in the bitter-sweet intensity of those red peppers. I can’t get enough.

It’s wonderful melted and scrambled into eggs, or used as a dip for bread (as the Calabrians apparently eat it). Tim Hayward likes it with crab. My favourite way to eat it is melted into pasta sauce, with or without tomato. Its power to enrich a basic tomato pasta sauce is second to none but now I prefer it stirred into just a little onion and butter; the sausage melts away to a hundred flecks of scarlet pepper swirling in heavenly porcine oil. Mixed through spaghetti, with just a squeeze of lemon, this may be one of the most perfect pasta sauces of all time.

Spaghetti with ‘Nduja

(some people say this amount of pasta should serve 2 people; I can eat the lot no problem)

200g spaghetti
1 generous heaped tablespoon nduja sausage (it will keep for months in the fridge, too)
Half a small white onion, finely chopped
A knob of butter
A squeeze of lemon juice
A few leaves of parsley, chopped
Salt and pepper

Cook the spaghetti in plenty of boiling salted water. Meanwhile, melt the butter and soften the onions it. When they are translucent, melt in the nduja. Add a squeeze of lemon and some salt and pepper.

When the spaghetti is cooked, spoon 2 tablespoons of the cooking water into the sauce, then drain the pasta. Mix the sauce with the spaghetti and serve, scattered with the parsley.

Yeah, quite chuffed with these. I thought it sounded near impossible to slip an egg yolk into the centre of a ravioli and cook it without it either busting out into the water or completely over-cooking and to be honest the latter worried me more; the idea of hard-boiled yolk encased in pasta is just really, really grim.

Anyway they are actually quite easy. You have to make your own pasta of course, so it depends how you feel about that and you really will need a machine because the pasta needs to be as thin as you can possibly get it. That would be a long hard slog with a rolling pin and I ain’t no Nonna. It’s easy when you make pasta at home to be fooled into thinking you have it thin enough when you don’t, which is exactly what happened to me the first time I made these. They cooked perfectly, but the pasta was just too fat and gluey.

The next time I pushed right through to the heady heights of setting number 9 on the machine and was rewarded with papery pasta sheets. I made a spinach and ricotta mixture which doubled up as a stand to keep the yolk in place (an idea I tea-leafed from Nicky who used a ricotta and herb mix and took some incredibly good pictures). It’s important to have a large pan so you don’t overcrowd it with ravioli and to have the water at an enthusiastic simmer rather than a boil (to avoid eggy bursts). A mere 2-3 minutes will cook the pasta through (remember it’s very thin, and fresh) and the yolk will remain gooey and ooze out onto the plate creating a rich sauce.

I bathed them simply with melted butter, crushed pink peppercorns, lemon zest and some of the purple basil that my mum grew and I have somehow managed to keep alive. I love how they look all pretty and delicate but are actually packing the punches with pasta, egg and butter. They’re deceptively light in the eating too, dangerously so in fact. You’ll only want one or two per person but there’s no need to worry about not being full; it would be a crime not to mop up all those golden buttery juices with a slice or two of good bread.

Egg Yolk Ravioli

(serves 4)

200g 00 flour (strong white flour)
2 eggs
A pinch of salt

For the filling

8 small eggs
200g spinach leaves
100g ricotta
1 tablespoon grated Parmesan
Black pepper

Sift the flour into a large bowl. Make a well in the centre and crack the eggs into it. Add the salt. Bring the pasta mix together until you have a rough dough. Knead it on a lightly floured surface until smooth and silky. Wrap in clingfilm and leave to rest for half an hour.

Meanwhile, wash the spinach and without drying it put it straight into a small saucepan on a low heat and put a lid on. Steam until wilted down. Drain, then when it is cool enough to handle, squeeze as much water from it as possible and chop finely. Add to a bowl with the ricotta and Parmesan. Add some black pepper. Taste and add some salt if you like.

Roll out the pasta to the thinnest setting using a pasta machine. Cut into 16 large squares on a well floured surface (you want to leave enough room to cut around the ravioli easily without the stuffing coming out of the sides). In the middle of every other square, put a blob of ricotta mixture, then make a dimple in the centre large enough to hold an egg yolk. Make sure the sides are high enough so that the yolk won’t spill over. Crack an egg over a bowl into your hands so that you are left holding the yolk and the white drains into the bowl through your fingers. Carefully slip each yolk into the middle of the ricotta mixture.

Bring a large pan of salted water to the boil and then reduce it to a simmer. Brush some of the leftover egg whites around the edges of each ravioli and place another pasta square on top. Seal the ravioli carefully easing out any air bubbles towards the edges. Use a glass or teacup to cut each ravioli into a circular shape.

Use a fish slice to pick up each ravioli and place gently into the water. Cook for 2 minutes until the pasta is just cooked and the yolk still runny. Serve with melted butter mixed with crushed pink peppercorns and chopped lemon zest. Garnish with basil.

This is rich and deeply comforting. Each pasta layer is cloaked in a dreamy sage-scented bechamel. Roll on autumn, I’m ready!

Rabbit Lasagne Recipe

1 large rabbit, jointed
2 onions, chopped
4 cloves garlic, finely sliced
100 ml white wine
1 generous sprig thyme
1 litre stock
2 bay leaves
1 generously heaped tablespoon tomato purée
1 small bunch parsley leaves, chopped
200g wild mushrooms
6 ripe tomatoes, de-seeded (and skinned if you like) and roughly chopped

For the sauce

400ml milk
50g butter
50g flour
Parmesan, grated (a good handful, or to taste)
2 tablespoons chopped sage
salt and pepper

Cheddar cheese, for grating
Lasagne sheets

– Preheat the oven to 200C/400F
– Heat some oil in a pan – 3-4 tablespoons (I like to use a roasting tray which I put directly onto the stove top and then transfer to the oven later). Add the rabbit pieces and cook on a high heat until browned on all sides. Remove the rabbit pieces and set aside.
– Add the onions, garlic to the pan and fry for a couple of minutes, stirring.
– Add the wine, tomatoes, bay leaves and thyme, cook for a minute, then add back the rabbit pieces. Add the stock, cover with foil and cook for 30 minutes, remove from the oven and set the rabbit pieces aside.
– Remove the thyme and bay leaves form the pan, then reduce until thickened by approximately half. During this time, shred the rabbit meat from the bones, then add back to the sauce along with the mushrooms and parsley.

For the bechamel

– Bring the milk to almost boiling then set aside.
– Melt the butter in a pan, then add the flour and stir vigorously to form a roux. Add a little of the milk at a time until all the milk is incorporated, stirring constantly.
– Add the parmesan and stir to combine before adding the sage and seasoning.

Assembly

– Turn the oven to 180C/350F
– Rabbit mixture, lasagne sheets, bechamel, rabbit mixture, lasagne, bechamel etc. Grated cheese on top. Bake for 30-40 minutes.

Meat Stock Recipe

4 medium meat bones
1 carrot
1 stick celery, in quarters
1 onion, halved
2 juniper berries
4 peppercorns
Pinch salt
2 bay leaves

– Roast the bones and vegetables for 30-40 minutes in a 230C/450F oven.
– Remove and add to a stock pot along with 3 litres water, bring to the boil then simmer for 1.5-2 hours, removing the scum every now and then. Drain through a sieve. Cool and freeze until needed. It will keep for a month or so.