You might well ask, how can I possibly wring further mileage out of the pairing of lemon and pasta when there’s already the Pasta with Lemon, Garlic, and Thyme Mushrooms; the Lemon Rosemary Fettuccine; and the Lemon “Parmesan” Spaghetti recipes on here for starters? It’s not just a case of if you get it you get it, but to me each of these recipes has their own personality, narrative, energy, and — importantly — flavour — and I could probably come up with another ten recipes combining lemon and pasta and argue for each of their relevance. But still, you might well ask, and I shall answer: what sets this Lemon Vodka Pasta apart is its spirited spin on the French beurre blanc sauce, where wine and vinegar are evaporated down before having butter whisked in. Here, the strong and sour components come from vodka and lemon, further adulterated with cream to give the emulsion a helping hand.

Back in the fledgling days of this blog, around 2007 or 08, I began to test my confidence with creating recipes and devised something I called Pasta with Beurre Rouge, a tomato-based riff on beurre blanc. This recipe later ended up in my 2013 cookbook, but that chemical and alchemical balance between acid, fat, and alcoholic heat continues to fascinate me, which eventually led to this recipe. Vodka is brash yet malleable, a valiant carrier of flavour rather than the main event. Its high ABV intensity is soothed by the butter and cream, but also pushes the lemon — that uplifting, sunshine-scented lemon! — into the spotlight where it belongs.

Despite the butter and cream and distilled liquor, this sauce is light of foot, skimming the surface of the pasta like a stone skipped over low tide, with the musky scent of basil providing further richness (although you could leave it out for pure untampered lemoniness). This recipe is a little vibes-based — you have to trust your instincts with the evaporation levels of the vodka and lemon juice, and I’m not going to stop you adding more cream or another enlivening squeeze of lemon juice. The first time I made this I added a small pinch of sugar to the sauce to balance out the lemon, the second time I added white pepper, left out the basil, and finely sliced rather than grating the lemon zest so it made more textural impact; as I noted in the recipe you could use dry white wine or vermouth instead of the vodka which would lend its own elegant flavour to the proceedings. Either way, lemon and pasta will always be friends, at least here on my blog, and this is another welcome entry into the canon.

And for those of you still unconvinced by the need for more lemon-prioritising pasta, you could try my Spaghetti with Caramelised Tomato Sauce, my Creamy Gochujang Tomato Pasta, or the Stovetop Buffalo Cauliflower Mac and Cheese. There’s also my Penne Alla Vodka if you have any leftover booze to get through (I may have softened my stance on this spirit since writing that post: vodka and tonic truly is a solid drink.)

Lemon Vodka Pasta

Aka my further corruption of beurre blanc, this sauce is buttery yet delicate and sublimely lemony. If you don’t have vodka you could replace this with the same quantity of dry white vermouth or dry white wine to excellent effect. This is a bit of a vibes-based recipe — add more cream if you want, add other herbs if you want, taste as you go, and enjoy. Recipe by myself.

• 200g long pasta, ideally fettuccine or something of that width
• Salt, for the pasta water and to taste
• 1 shallot
• 60ml (1/4 cup) vodka
• 1 lemon
• 125ml (1/2 cup) cream, plus extra to taste (see notes)
• 50g fridge-cold butter, cubed
• A dash of white pepper, to taste
• A handful of basil leaves, to serve

1: Fill a large saucepan with water and bring it to the boil (or! Boil the jug and then pour that into the pan) then add about two teaspoons of salt and the 200g pasta. Let the pasta boil away for ten to twelve minutes, or until al dente.

2: While this is happening, finely dice the shallot and add it to a frying pan along with the 1/4 cup of vodka. Grate the zest from the lemon then squeeze three tablespoons of juice from it (I roll the lemon around on the bench under my hand and use a fork to ream out as much juice as possible. Also, you can squeeze the juice directly into the now-empty 1/4 cup measure if that helps — three tablespoons should almost-but-not-quite fill it.) Set the lemon zest aside for later, and pour the juice into the pan with the shallots and vodka.

3: Stir the lemon-vodka-shallot mixture over a medium heat, letting it bubble away and reduce/evaporate down by about half. This will only take a couple of minutes at the most once it starts bubbling, and I appreciate that this is a vague instruction — keep an eye on it and trust your instincts, you’re a good cook and you’ve got this! Once it’s at this stage, pour in the 1/2 cup of cream and let it simmer for a minute — don’t worry if the sauce looks a little split at this point, the butter and a splash of pasta water will tie it back together —then stir in the butter a couple cubes at a time, adding more butter only once the previous addition has melted into the sauce.

4: At this point, add a scant 1/4 cup of the pasta cooking water to the sauce — and that pasta should be well on its way to being cooked by now — and a 1/4 teaspoon salt and a little white pepper to taste. Remove the sauce from the heat, drain the pasta, and stir it into the pan of sauce along with the reserved lemon zest. Taste to see if it wants more salt, cream, or even another squeeze of lemon juice.

5: Divide the pasta between two plates and scatter with basil leaves, torn or not as you wish.

Serves 2.

Notes:

• If you’re not interested in investing in a whole bottle of vodka, get one or two of those minibar-sized ones, usually stored near the liquor store counter.
• I tried this with Alpro single soy cream and it worked beautifully — I will definitely be using it again in other recipes. On that note, if you’re using vegan butter here make sure it’s one that you’re confident with the flavour of, or use a homemade butter.

music lately:

Vienna by Ultravox, as performed at Live Aid — I’ve always loved this airy, intoxicating song but I’m currently rewatching Yellowjackets and it features in some key scenes and so naturally I’m torturing my own emotions by listening to it on loop and crying. Something about the Live Aid performance is particularly affecting — the anticipation and thunderclap of that first chorus, the cavalcade of keyboard notes spilling over the time signature, the growl in Midge Ure’s voice on that final chorus, that Badalamentian control of mood change via one single note — it’s all too much to take! Time to go listen to it again!

Backwards Drums by Meat Puppets. A little googling suggests that I’m the only person in all recorded history who noticed that this sounds reminiscent of Time by Pink Floyd from Dark Side of the Moon, but now you all know too! Also to be clear, I love that it reminds me of this song and the Meat Puppets are a continuous source of joy. (To that end, EVERYONE noticed that the Tangerine Dream music at the end of Thief sounds like Comfortably Numb, so I really thought there might be more people talking about this one.)

I Can Love You Like That by All-4-One — sumptuous perfection, the way the chorus glides along in these huge sweeping strides then snaps into sharpness with “if you were my girl” makes me want to punch the air in unearned triumph.

Ivan and Palagna by Miroslav Skoryk from the film Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, this is not a great recording but the haunting quality simply cannot be held back by pixilated audio.

PS: If you like my writing and wish to support me directly, there’s no better way than by stepping behind the claret velvet VIP curtain of my Patreon. Recipes, reviews, poetry, updates, secrets, stories, all yours every month. There’s no better time than right now — your support helps me to make all these blog posts!