A few weeks ago, Ashley Alexandra Dupre skyrocketed to sex scandal infamy when news of a $4,000 tryst drop-kicked “Client-9” to his gubernatorial grave. Whether she’s a victim of a patriarchal society which feasts on female subjugation or a bikini-clad post-feminist piranha is not for me to theorize. I will leave that to those who never did anything stupid when they were 22.

All I ask is, Ashley, can you please pass the puttanesca?

Originating from the Italian word “puttana,” which literally translates as “whore,” puttanesca sauce is said to have been conceived in the brothels of Naples. Foodie folklore recalls red-light women placing steaming pots of the sauce on their windowsills, luring potential customers with its enticing scent; a pre-Gloria Steinem empowerment of female earning potential using anchovies and olives.

Others justify pungent puttanesca as an invention of necessity. Since prostitution was regulated by the government, the women were only permitted out to do their shopping one day a week, thus inspiring creative uses of larder leftovers. I try not to think of this when I am about to enjoy a heaping bowl of spaghetti alla puttanesca, as state-sanctioned servitude is depressing.

Thus, my favorite backstory claims puttnesca is not the invention of the Neapolitan night shift, but attributes it to overextended housewives. After idling away the afternoon with their illicit lovers, the women would quickly cook up some sauce for their homeward-bound husbands, compensating for lack of simmer by adding extra spice. It’s a simple tomato-based recipe, infused with an air of infidelity.

Whatever its exact origins, puttanesca is ridiculously easy and suprisingly spicy. And as Ms. Dupre’s uptown dates know, down and dirty often makes for the most delectable dish.

Spaghetti alla Puttanesca

4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 small onion, finely chopped

6-8 anchovy fillets, minced

4-6 cloves garlic, finely minced

2 large cans plum tomatoes

1 cup (or more, depending on taste) Kalamata olives, pitted and coarsely chopped

2 tablespoons tomato paste

3 tablespoons capers, drained

1/2 teaspoon dried crushed basil

1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

Pinch of salt

Heat oil in large pot over medium high. Add onion and cook about 5 minutes. Add anchovies and garlic and cook for about two minutes, gently mashing together and taking care not to brown the garlic. Stir in tomatoes and remaining ingredients. Simmer, stirring occasionally, for about 30-40 minutes, until sauce is thickened and reduced a bit. Remove from heat and cover.

Cook spaghetti until al dente and drain, reserving about 1/4 cup cooking water. Add pasta and reserved water to sauce, tossing to coat.