One of the most frequent comments I get after teaching a group to make fresh pasta is, “Fresh pasta is so wonderful, I’ll never eat that hard, boxed pasta again!” But fresh pasta, made with soft flour and eggs, is only one note in the symphony of Italian cuisine. Pastasciutta, the dried pasta from southern Italy, made with semolina and water, plays an important part at the Italian table and is in no way second fiddle to pasta from the north.
It seems every year I’m drawn to the pasta factories of the south. I yearn to be in Campania, breathing the sea air in the shadow of Vesuvius. Last summer, on a visit to Naples, I went once again to Gragnano, the pasta town on the bay of Naples. I’ve long been interested in making pasta and studying its history, so when Slow Food friends on the Sorrento coast offered to take me on a tour of some of the artisan pasta factories in the area, I jumped at the chance.
Gragnano, along with neighboring town Torre Annuziata, has been a pasta-making center since the late 1800’s and was designed with pasta in mind. On the banks of a river lined with mills for grinding durum wheat into semolina flour, the main street lies perpendicular to the Sorrento coast to take advantage of the constant sea breezes that were used to dry the strands of pasta. There are many old photos from the early 20th century showing racks and racks of long spaghetti lining the streets and balconies, drying in the open air.
It’s a more hygienic operation these days with the pasta being made and dried indoors.
But the most fascinating thing I saw was the pasta made by hand, like this woman making fusilli rolled by hand on a long metal spoke. Truly beautiful to watch, I have to go back with a video camera!
Buon Appetito!
Gina