Back off, Meghan Markle haters: Her pasta technique is legit

Emily Heil

The aspiring lifestyle guru Meghan Markle - who now goes by her British royal name, Meghan Sussex - is a reliable headline generator. And this week, she gave media on both sides of the pond some grist for the gossip mill with her new aspirational Netflix show, “With Love, Meghan.”

But it wasn’t so much grist as artisanally crafted dishes made from organic produce the now-Californian former actress served to her on-screen friends, in between segments portraying her at other picturesque (and staff-assisted) domestic pursuits, such as tending to her beehives and berry-picking.

Meghan’s ever-present critics homed in on one project in particular, which she prepared in the opening episode of the series: a pasta dish she dubbed “single skillet spaghetti.” The crime of this recipe, said aghast online skeptics, was its unusual preparation, which broke from the norm of boiling pasta before saucing it. Instead, Meghan’s was an all-in-one dish in which she laid raw pasta on top of tomatoes, garlic and olive oil and poured boiling water over the pan, cooking it to tenderness before eventually stirring in greens (lacinato kale and chard, to be precise).

The unconventional method seemed to shock. “Meghan Markle slammed for VERY bizarre way she cooks pasta,” screamed one tabloid. Other outlets focused on the purported outrage that Italians, those protectors of pasta’s honor, must feel at her abuse of their national treasure.

Although Meghan herself positioned her preparation as novel (“we don’t have time for all those pot changes,” she explains), her loose recipe isn’t innovative anymore: Cooking pasta in its sauce, with no need for draining, is a long-standing technique that Martha Stewart Living magazine popularized in 2013 after a recipe developer learned it from an Italian cook - in Italy, no less.

As for Meghan’s version? Well, I tried it, and sorry to the legions of Meghan-haters, but it’s pretty delicious.

To test whether it worked, I watched and rewatched the segment in which Meghan prepares the dish several times. Then I went to the store for ingredients, because unlike the Duchess, my personal assistant was taking the day off (yes, he’s a cat, and he frequently - okay, basically always - flakes on the job. Note to self: Fire the lout.).

As I prepared to cook, I wondered whether I should try to emulate Meghan’s dreamy cooking in other ways. My galley kitchen on a gray D.C. afternoon in no way resembled her sunny, airy backdrop (which is not her real home, as those hoping for a peek had hoped, but still, a rental set worthy of a Nancy Meyers movie). Bowls of fresh-from-the-farm produce and rustic loaves of bread surrounded her massive island. My fruit-bowl display consisted of an onion and a few dubious limes.

I certainly wasn’t going to dress like Meghan, whose all-white ensemble made me trigger-happy for a Tide pen. And the billowing sleeves of her creamy blouse screamed “fire hazard” more than chic. I decided not to adopt her odd knife skills - she used a blade that looked like a large paring knife, and she disconcertingly stretched her index finger along its top in a way that made me wince. Well, perhaps I could enlist a bestie, as our host did, to admiringly watch me cook and utter praises such as “you’ve always shown your love through fooood,” while I minced garlic and sliced tomatoes? No luck. My husband was on deadline (at least that was his excuse), and my aforementioned cat couldn’t be bothered.

Nevertheless, I soldiered on and otherwise followed Meghan’s steps. Sliced cherry tomatoes (“if you have heirlooms, that’s fine,” she assured viewers) go into a pan, topped with a generous sprinkle of salt, a drizzle of olive oil and the garlic. A handful of spaghetti (she says it’s an entire pack, but it looks like less than a full pound to me, so I use a little more than half a box) and the zest of a whole lemon are laid atop that, and 3½ cups of boiling water are poured over it. She brought it to a boil, covered it for about six minutes, then uncovered it, stirred in ribbons of kale, chard and arugula, then added parmesan cheese and chili flakes as the sauce reduced around the pasta.

Not cooking and draining the pasta separately, she emphasized several times, meant that the starch remained in the pan, offering a “creamy” quality.

She plated the dish with the utmost care, and I followed along. First, she ladled a spoonful of sauce, then an artful twirl of pasta, which she showered with more cheese, fresh black pepper and basil.

“It’s so [bleeping] good,” Meghan’s longtime makeup artist and adoring audience Daniel Martin enthused after he took a bite.

“It’s your choice of adjectives that I really appreciate,” she replied, which kind of seemed like a thinly veiled insult? Anyway, I’m with Martin. It’s good, full stop. The cooking water softened the vegetables and melded them with the cheese into a pasta-slicking sauce, and what’s not to like about the classic flavors of fresh tomatoes, garlic and tangy greens?

My only critique of the dish itself is that its on-screen execution suffers from excess, which isn’t surprising, given that the host is literal royalty. She calls for three types of greens - kale, chard and arugula - but you don’t need full bunches of each. And by the time they cook down into the sauce, they are fairly interchangeable, so I think you could pick just one or swap in any other green you might have on hand. And while some skeptical viewers thought the pasta might be a soupy mess, the trick is just to keep boiling and reducing the sauce until it’s to your liking. Otherwise, I had no notes for Meghan - at least when it came to her noodles.

At least I felt like I learned a few things on my pasta journey with the Duchess. I got this pearl of wisdom: “I think the brightness of citrus helps many things.” And plenty of reminders that it’s good to surround yourself with beauty and positivity - and, if possible, someone to do the shopping for you.