An unusual ingredient there, anchovy paste in a tube. I know about 20 people who would have objections to one ingredient or another in this simple dish. I dated a woman who couldn't have garlic. "Oh, don't put any garlic in mine. I'm serious. I'll have heartburn for days if you do. Leave it out please."
Gimme a break. Now I ask you, how am I to make a standup marinara without garlic? Puhleeze.
"Waaaah, I don't like anchovies. My whole body breaks out in hives for two weeks every time I see one."
"Waaaah, I can't have Parmesan because I'm lactose intolerant and cheese gives me heart attacks whenever I get within five feet and then I have to be hospitalized for weeks on end in a tent with a respirator."
"Waaaah I can't do scallops because shellfish make me bleed out my bum requiring a full transfusion, and I don't like that."
"Waaaah, I can't eat pasta because gluten causes my throat to close up entirely and I can't breathe and EMT's have to come and perform an emergency tracheotomy on the spot."
Finicky eaters always turn up their noses at the best things to eat for the lamest reasons.
My parents wouldn't have it. Too much expense, time, and energy went into meal preparation for them to brook a table of fussy children. They insisted we at least try something. Everything.
"SHUT UP an eat it!"
"BECAUSE I SAID SO! That's why."
"STOP CRYING, or I'll give you something to cry about."
Such cogent reasoning, how could we refuse?
How I do recall fondly those gentle ministrations, that tender careful loving guidance.
But I'd like to talk about the way the sauce magically comes together so mysteriously. The thing is, butter is like sauce already that's waiting for you to help it along. It's open to several approaches including vino if you happen to have a little extra. In this case, I heat olive oil and butter in equal portions in a medium-size saucepan. Add garlic to flavor the oil careful not to toast or burn it. Then squeeze in less than a teaspoon of anchovy paste. It spatters. Mix it together. Now your fat is flavored and already it begins to thicken. Add black pepper, and red pepper flakes for kapow. Add the scallops. They release some liquid and the sauce is complete. Transfer the pasta dripping wet directly to the hot pan. The water has starch that sloughed from the pasta and sufficient salt for it to taste like sea-water. The starchy salty water is used to adjust the sauce after the pasta is added to the pan. It changes at hand there as it mingles, considerably more as cheese is added, and yet further as it cools, so the pasta water is reserved to adjust all that. No additional salt is added because the anchovies have their own intriguing fish/salt flavor, the Parmigiano is salty, and the pasta water is also salted. So right there you have your Federally Suggested Monthly Salt Requirement for a bull elephant -- adding more would be painting the lilly, innit, gilding the already golden, as it were. Reserve some Parmigiano to finish the plate.
It's a shame to cut up giant sea scallops like this but it is necessary for this angel hair pasta.