The origin of this recipe is pretty serendipitous and only marginally related to backpacking, so feel free to skip my ramblings and head straight to the useful parts. Otherwise, buckle in to waste some time.

I parked my car on a Sunday evening after returning from a trip to Tuolumne Meadows and the Eastern Sierra. I grabbed my bags from the car and started heading in while the neighbor was backing up his truck. We exchanged glances and he hollered out his usual “Hi neighbor!” followed by, “do you like vodka?”

I stared at him completely befuddled; I’d been driving for nine hours and spent the last two days traipsing in the mountains and communing with nature. I became accustomed to the sounds of the mountains and the trills of the trees. English was nowhere to be found on my tongue. After an awkward pause, I furrowed my brows and replied with a perplexed “vodka?” “No” he chuckled, “do you like pasta?”

Ah! I beamed and nodded vigorously. “Yes yes, I like pasta!”

He went on to explain that he worked at a popular restaurant and was on his way to a closing shift; and he’d bring me a hot plate of their famous pasta if I was still up at midnight when he returned. Of course I obliged, no sane person who’s been sleeping outside and eating dehydrated food for two days says no to a hot plate of free food.

Embarrassingly, we’ve been neighbors for nearly five years by this point but we only exchanged pleasantries as we’re coming and going. Our personal lives remained just that, personal.

By 10pm I had cleaned up, put all my gear away, eaten way more than I needed, and the exhaustion of the weekend was setting in. Not wanting to be rude, I kept myself up to wait for his arrival. Midnight came and went, and I had to work the next day. “He probably forgot” I thought to myself.

Just as I laid down in bed there was a rap on the door. I hopped up and bolted over half dressed, I wasn’t going to make him wait, he’d been working for the last six hours and was bringing me food.

I opened the clamshell takeout container and a second wind washed over me. Dinner part deux was now on the books. I took bite after bite of pasta, each one more flavorful than the last. Creamy, distinct strong hits of basil, tons of onions, smoky chipotle flavor followed by a small punch of spicy. Then the thought crossed my mind, “could I make this for backpacking? It’s really not that many ingredients.”

It dawned on me that after all these years of “hi neighbor,” “good morning,” and “have a good one,” that this was our first big interaction and it involved food. It involved food and in a roundabout way, backpacking. I became determined to recreate this recipe for backpacking, and I think this interpretation delivers.

Now… the actual instructions. Slice up one red bell pepper, half an onion, and gather your basil (be very generous with it).

Heat up a pan on medium (doesn’t matter if it’s stainless or non-stick), and wipe on some oil with a paper towel. We want just enough to keep things from sticking but not so much that it’s greasy; lower fat means it’s less likely to spoil. You can skip this step if you’re using a non-stick pan.

Toss in the onions and bell peppers and let it brown and caramelize.

While that’s going on, prepare a large handful of basil by cutting it or chopping it into half inch pieces, don’t be shy with it. Those OXO kitchen shears are amazing, they split apart for easy cleaning and are sharp as hell, but I digress.

Now pop open a can of chipotle in adobo sauce and hit it with a stick blender. You can use a regular blender or food processor. Blend until there are no more large chunks, it doesn’t have to be smooth though, just consistent.

Add the basil and one tablespoon of blended chipotle. I choose to add chicken bouillon at this point (for more flavor) but salt works just as well. Turn down the heat to low and stir everything together.

Prepare one teaspoon of cornstarch with 2-3 teaspoon of water, mix thoroughly and add to the pan.

Stir again and cook until no longer watery and runny. Everything should get pretty thick pretty quickly. At this point, taste the mixture and add more chipotle if you want it spicier or more basil if it’s not basil-y enough. Dealer’s choice.

This recipe makes two servings, so split it into two portions and dehydrate at 125 degrees for 6-8 hours or until dry and leathery .

The result are sheets of delicious smoky goodness. I roll them up and cut them into strips for easier packaging and re-hydrating. Package the chipotle sauce with powdered milk (4 Tbsp for 2 servings or 2 Tbsp for 1 serving), but be sure to keep the penne pasta separate.

When you’re at camp, cook the penne (dehydrated will save time and fuel, but raw is fine), drain most of the water, add the chipotle sauce and powdered milk. Err on the side of less water, you can add more water if you need to, you can’t take water out. Stir until the sauce has dissolved and then add olive oil.

Pull out your backpacking stemware, linens, your favorite bottle of pinot, and your nicest silverware. Just kidding, inhale the pasta with a dirty spork and drink two buck chuck from a worn out bota bag while sitting on a stump. Trail life.