A ricotta pasta that begs to be messed with

Name: A ricotta pasta that begs to be messed with
Total time: 20 min
Yield: 6 servings
Ingredients: 1 × 1 lb box pasta a sauce can cling to, like rigatoni, fettuccine or bowtie; 1 × 15 oz container fresh ricotta, the whole tub; 2 tbsp white miso (a hefty spoonful, my big addition); ½ cup mint, chopped; 1 small shallot, finely chopped (or half a big one, a whole big one and you'll breathe allium till Tuesday); ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil; 1 lemon, juiced; red pepper flakes, to finish (optional); salt and black pepper; chile crisp, to serve

Stir it in a bowl while the water boils, then fiddle until it tastes like yours.

At a Glance

Time

20 min

Serves

Story

Ricotta is barely cheese, more the afterthought of it. The name means recooked, and it is made by heating the watery whey left behind from firmer cheeses until soft curds rise to the top. That is why it tastes of milk and almost nothing else, a blank sweetness that will take on whatever you fold into it, which is the whole invitation here.

Ingredients

1 × 1 lb box pasta a sauce can cling tolike rigatoni, fettuccine or bowtie
1 × 15 oz container fresh ricottathe whole tub
2 tbsp white misoa hefty spoonful, my big addition
½ cup mintchopped
1 small shallotfinely chopped (or half a big one, a whole big one and you'll breathe allium till Tuesday)
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 lemonjuiced
red pepper flakesto finish (optional)
salt and black pepper
chile crispto serve

Method

This started life as a no-recipe recipe, all shrugs and no amounts, so I have kept it in that spirit: rough quantities, a whole tub of this, a whole box of that, and firm encouragement to muck about until it is yours. There is no wrong answer, only your answer.

Set a big pot of well salted water over high heat. When it boils, drop the pasta and cook to al dente while you build the sauce, which takes about as long. Any shape a sauce can grab works, tubes and ribbons and bows all catch this one nicely.
In a large bowl, fold the mint, shallot and miso through the whole tub of ricotta. The miso is my move, and the best one: a fermented, savory hum that drops a floor of umami under all that fresh milk, the two of them richer together than either is alone. Go easy on a big shallot, though, or you will be tasting raw allium long after dinner.
Loosen it all with the olive oil and the lemon juice until it slackens to a sauce, then season with salt, pepper and the pepper flakes if you want heat.
Now taste, and start fiddling, because this is the fun part. Too flat, more lemon or salt. Want more depth, up the miso. And the miso is not sacred: a few mashed anchovies, a spoonful of capers or a dab of yuzu kosho all do the same salty-savory job in their own accent. Chase it around until you find your sweet spot.
Reserve a mug of pasta water before you drain. Tip the hot pasta into the bowl and fold gently, adding a splash of the starchy water so the cheese loosens and coats rather than clumps.
Serve at once, warm bowl, cold wine, and do not skip a spoonful of chile crisp over each one. It is the crunch and the heat this soft, creamy bowl is quietly begging for, and the best argument for making it in the first place.