Sometimes I’m not sure who my recipes are for, other than myself. It’s not that they’re so very different, as you can find ice cream and pasta anywhere without vigorous effort. It’s more that they’re neither technically whizz-bang nor weekdayishly practical, on top of which they aren’t arriving with any reliable consistency and when they do, there’s caveats. Caveats like: this Pappardelle with Fennel and Bean Escabeche is too fancy to be truly humble, but too humble to be truly fancy; small children probably won’t like it; it’s as pale as a pile of crumpled cashmere mock-neck sweaters; and it contains four tablespoons of vinegar.

On the other, fork-bearing hand, there are wide, satiny ribbons of hand-cut pappardelle winding like Dr Seuss highways around dense, creamy beans and yielding, fresh-cool fennel, droplets of olive oil clinging to their every curve, white wine vinegar soaking into their cells, and so much garlic that it’s practically a main ingredient. That appeals to me.

Escabeche as a preparation is so widely-circulated that I’m not sure you could narrow down the top five variations of it, let alone the definitive; but this recipe nods Spainwards, with beans and olive oil-softened fennel marinated briefly in plenty of white wine vinegar, with a peppery hint of bay and, well, pepper. The beans, with their mellow packed-sand fudginess, are the perfect receptacle for this, while the softened fennel takes the place of any type of onion, still retaining enough bite to contrast with the plump beans and pliant pasta ribbons.

As I said, this is oddly plain to look at, though its pale colour belies the flavoursome barfight between the olive oil and vinegar; should you want to take this to a more dinner party level, I’d toast a generous quantity of pine nuts and perhaps strew some ricotta throughout. Its plainness rewards you though, heightening your remaining senses to focus on the textures, the way the olive oil softens the mouth-puckering acid rush of vinegar, the gently sweetened aniseed of the fennel.

My love of sweet and sour ingredients together is much-storied; if you feel the same you might consider: Banadora Wa Sumac; My Lemon Vodka Pasta; my Cauliflower Marbella, my Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Agrodolce and Feta; my Pickled Fried Cauliflower and Marinated Tofu Salad and of course my Salt and Vinegar Beans.

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PS: If you’re after a way to support a local charity who are doing their level best to get in on the ground and provide aid to people in Palestine, despite nonstop setbacks and ongoing atrocities, ReliefAid are doing amazing work to reach people in Gaza and I urge you to support them if you can.

Pappardelle with Fennel and Bean Escabeche

Don’t let the pale ingredients fool you, this is gloriously piquant and rich from the white wine vinegar and olive oil, with a ramshackle elegance from the roughly hand-sliced pappardelle and tender beans. Recipe by myself.

• 1 large fennel bulb
• 5 cloves garlic
• 5 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 teaspoon peppercorns
• 4 tablespoons white wine vinegar
• 1/2 teaspoon sugar
• 1 x 400g tin butter beans
• 200g fresh lasagne sheets, or 200g dried pappardelle
• salt, to taste and for the pasta water
• fresh parsley, about a handful, to serve

1: Trim the base and frondy stalks from the fennel, and slice the white flesh as finely as you can muster. Peel the five garlic cloves and roughly chop — I like to slice them into thin coins so you get slivers of garlic throughout.

2: Warm the five tablespoons of olive oil in a wide saucepan, then add the sliced fennel and turn up the heat, stirring and sauteeing until the fennel is a little floppy and reduced in size, but not at all browned. At this point, stir in the garlic slices, along with the two bay leaves and teaspoon of peppercorns.

3: Remove the pan from the heat, and as soon as the sizzling sound has quietened down, pour over the four tablespoons of white wine vinegar, followed by the half-teaspoon of sugar and a hearty pinch of salt. Drain the tin of butterbeans and stir them through the fennel mixture, still off the heat. Leave it to marinate while you get on with the pasta.

4: Now, fill a large saucepan with water and bring it to the boil, salting generously. If you’re using the fresh lasagne sheets, slice them at several intervals into wide pappardelle-style lengths. Once the salted water is at a good rolling boil, drop in your pasta and cook until tender — dried pasta will take 10-12 minutes, while the sliced fresh pasta will probably be done in two minutes at the most.

5: Use tongs or your choice of implement to transfer the cooked pasta into the pan of fennel and beans, gently stirring together. The residual heat from the pan and the pasta should come together, but if you want this piping hot, turn up the heat under the pan of fennel for a minute or so before the pasta is finished cooking. Use a splash of pasta water if need be to bring it all together. Taste for salt, then divide between two plates. Roughly chop the parsley and scatter over.

Serves 2.

Notes:

• This really is best with white wine vinegar, if you don’t have it then try red wine. Anything else might be too much, but feel free to play if there’s a particular vinegar you love.
• It may seem a lot of oil, but there’s a lot of fennel and it forms part of the sauce as opposed to being there merely for frying. 
• I would happily use cannellini beans or borlotti instead, but not chickpeas — too robust, too hearty.

music lately:

Velvet Underground by Johnathan Richmond, possibly the only person alive who could get away with writing a song this guilelessly cheerful in honour of this specific band.

L.E.S Artistes, by Santigold. When she says “I can say I hope it will be worth what I give up” I want to scream from the roof of a parking building! And I can say I sincerely hope the same governing nomenclature body who come up with terms like Frutiger Aero are cooking up a name that summarises the exact reason why certain songs from this era, despite being relatively upbeat in nature, make me feel like I’ve fallen face first into a rain puddle, in a good way, but nonetheless in a face-first way.

Animal Nitrate by Suede, the kind of song that makes you feel roguish and irresponsible.

I Dreamed a Dream as sung by Daphne Rubin-Vega from the 2006 Broadway revival of Les Miserables, of which there was cruelly no cast recording. Daphne’s performance didn’t get the love it deserved at the time; I adore her leathery, expressive, Jennifer Tilly-esque rasp, there is no one more perfectly suited to portray a Suffering Broadway Woman than she, we should be celebrating character-ful voices like hers and writing for them, and everyone who disagrees needs to make peace with having incorrect, bad opinions.