Sauce Nappante pour Pâtes au Potiron

Je ne me lasse pas de décliner à volonté ma révélation culinaire! This time, et tant qu'il y a du potiron sur les étals, je vous propose, pour le mettre en valeur, une sauce nappante réalisée sans crème. L'oeuf s'invite façon carbonara, le fromage apporte du crémeux et une louche d'eau de cuisson lie le tout à la perfection, qui épaissit en enrobant les spaghetti ou les liguines.

• 250g de spaghetti, ou autres pâtes longues
  
• 1 quartier de potiron, pelé et coupé en petits morceaux ou râpé
• 1 oignon, émincé
• 1 gousse d'ail, finement hachée
  
• 2 oeufs
• 1 morceau de fromage crémeux (mascarpone, saint-marcellin...)
• 1 lichette de lait
  
• poivre noir du moulin
• huile d'olive
  

Faire revenir l'oignon et l'ail dans un peu d'huile
Ajouter les dés de potiron et verser un peu de lait (ou de vin blanc)
On peut assaisonner de fleur de sel ou d'un peu de cube de bouillon de poule.
Cuire à couvert et à feu doux environ 15 minutes
Mélanger le fromage et les oeufs en battant à la fourchette
La chair du potiron va ramollir, et il n'y aura plus qu'à l'écraser à la fourchette.
Cuire les pâtes à l'eau bouillante salée et réserver un peu d'eau de cuisson
Mélanger les pâtes chaudes égouttées et le potiron
Ajouter l'eau de cuisson et la garniture à l'oeuf
Faire réchauffer quelques minutes sur feu tout doux pour éviter que l'oeuf ne coagule
Le jus de cuisson additionné de l'oeuf et du fromage va s'épaissir en réchauffant, nappant aisni les pâtes d'un sauce crémeuse (c'est pour ça qu'il vous faut des pâtes longues !).
Parsemer de poivre noir du moulin.

I've seen horrors... horrors that you've seen. But you have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that... but you have no right to judge me. It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror. Horror has a face... and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies. I remember when I was with Special Forces. Seems a thousand centuries ago. We went into a camp to inoculate the children. We left the camp after we had inoculated the children for Polio, and this old man came running after us and he was crying. He couldn't see. We went back there and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm. There they were in a pile. A pile of little arms. And I remember... I... I... I cried. I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out. I didn't know what I wanted to do. And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it. I never want to forget. And then I realized... like I was shot... like I was shot with a diamond... a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought: My God... the genius of that. The genius. The will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we. Because they could stand that these were not monsters. These were men... trained cadres. These men who fought with their hearts, who had families, who had children, who were filled with love... but they had the strength... the strength... to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men our troubles here would be over very quickly. You have to have men who are moral... and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling... without passion... without judgment... without judgment. Because it's judgment that defeats us.

Apocalypse Now (1979), Francis Ford Coppola.