Recipe: Fusilli Lucani al Sugo dell’Intoppo ('Ndruppeche)

The Lucanian Sunday Ragù

Introduction / Story

There’s a saying in Basilicata: “La domenica si sente dall’odore.”
You can tell it’s Sunday by the smell.

And that smell is always ragù. Thick, slow, red, and alive — simmering since dawn, filling the whole house with its promise. In Basilicata, this ritual has a name: Sugo dell’Intoppo, literally “the sauce of the bump,” or “the sauce with the surprise.”

The surprise, of course, is the meat. A spoonful of pasta might hide a small piece of pork, veal, or sausage, and you never know which until you find it. The sauce is generous but never showy — a slow-cooked blend of tomatoes, local olive oil, and mixed meats that turns into something velvety and deep.

This is the kind of food that waits for you. It’s the dish that marks the rhythm of Lucanian life — slow mornings, loud tables, and second helpings. You don’t rush l’Intoppo; you let it unfold.

History & Cultural Context

The Sugo dell’Intoppo comes from the peasant countryside, where nothing was wasted and everything had its turn in the pot. During the week, meals were light — mostly vegetables, bread, or pasta with olive oil. But on Sundays or feast days, the family’s diet changed pace: someone would fetch a piece of cured pork, some sausage from the pantry, maybe a small cut of veal or goat.

These “mixed meats” were browned slowly, bathed in tomatoes and wine, and left to cook for hours. The sauce became the first course, the meat the second — a two-in-one feast. That was the intoppo: the “bump” in the sauce, the unexpected piece of something rich among the pasta.

This dish embodies the Lucanian spirit: frugality elevated to celebration. In a land where time was currency, a sauce that took half the day to make was the greatest act of abundance.

The Pasta Shape

Traditionally, Sugo dell’Intoppo is served with strascinati, ferretti (fusilli al ferretto), or sometimes maccheroni al pettine — all hand-shaped, coarse pastas that can stand up to a dense sauce.

Each region of Basilicata claims its own pairing. Around Potenza and Avigliano, cooks prefer ferretti: long, twisted spirals made by rolling dough around a thin iron rod (ferro). Their ridges hold the thick ragù perfectly. In Matera, families lean toward strascinati — broad ovals that cradle the sauce like spoons.

Whatever the choice, the pasta is always made from durum wheat semolina and water, without eggs, keeping it sturdy enough for long Sunday lunches.

The Sauce / Key Ingredients

A proper Intoppo begins with patience. The meats are browned slowly, layered by fat and flavor. Olive oil from Ferrandina, garlic, and onion form the base; wine and tomato do the rest.

The meats vary by family, but the soul is constant: pork and time.

Pork ribs or pancetta for depth
Lucanian sausage (mild or spiced) for aroma
Veal or lamb chunks for tenderness
San Marzano or pomodori pelati for body
A splash of red wine to deglaze
Bay leaf, black pepper, and salt to balance

Everything cooks together until the sauce thickens and the meat nearly falls apart. The trick is to stir rarely but carefully, letting the flavors marry without haste. The meat is lifted out before serving; the sauce coats the pasta, and the meat returns later as its own course — a double reward.

Modern Interpretations & Who’s Cooking It Now

Today, Sugo dell’Intoppo is enjoying a quiet revival. Chefs see it as the ultimate expression of Basilicata’s “slow culture” — food that defies the clock.

At Ristorante Don Alfonso in Potenza, Chef Francesco Moles reimagines the dish with wild boar and Senise pepper reduction, served over ferretti cut by hand.
At Osteria Al Borgo Antico in Matera, they serve Strascinati all’Intoppo in earthen bowls, the sauce cooked in copper pots the old way, with just enough spice to recall the warmth of cruschi.
Even small trattorie — La Tavernetta del Brigante in Tramutola, or Nonna Rosa in Melfi — still make their Sunday ragùs on wood stoves, starting at sunrise.

It’s a dish that never lost its dignity, only its rush.

Traditional Recipe

Ingredients

400 g strascinati or ferretti pasta (or normal fusilli - like in my case)
250 g pork ribs
150 g Lucanian sausage
200 g veal or beef chunks
2 tbsp tomato paste
700 g peeled tomatoes or passata
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 garlic clove
1 glass red wine (Aglianico del Vulture preferred)
4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 bay leaf
Salt and black pepper to taste
Pecorino di Filiano, to serve

Method

In a heavy pot, warm the olive oil and add the garlic and onion. Let them soften gently. Add the meats in order of fat: first the pork ribs, then the sausage, then the veal. Brown on all sides until golden.

Stir in the tomato paste and let it caramelize slightly, then deglaze with red wine. When the wine has nearly evaporated, add the peeled tomatoes, breaking them with a spoon. Add the bay leaf, season lightly, and reduce the heat to low.

Let the sauce simmer uncovered for at least two hours, stirring occasionally. The meats should become tender but not disintegrate. Remove them once done and keep warm.

Meanwhile, cook the pasta in salted water until al dente. Drain and toss directly into the sauce, coating thoroughly. Serve topped with grated Pecorino di Filiano and a spoonful of the rich tomato ragù.

The meats — the “intoppo” — are served separately, as a second course, alongside a slice of Matera bread to soak up what remains.

Plant-Based Variation

Ingredients

400 g strascinati or wholegrain ferretti (of fusilli)
2 tbsp tomato paste
700 g peeled tomatoes or crushed cherry tomatoes
1 small onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves
1 glass red wine (or grape must for sweetness)
1 tsp smoked paprika
1 bay leaf
1 small sprig of rosemary
2 tbsp chopped sun-dried tomatoes
100 g mushrooms (porcini or chestnut), finely diced
Olive oil, salt, and pepper

Method

Start as if you were making the real ragù — with patience and olive oil. In a wide pan, warm the oil and sauté the onion and garlic until translucent. Add the diced mushrooms and sun-dried tomatoes, cooking slowly until they begin to caramelize.

Stir in the tomato paste, a splash of red wine, and smoked paprika. Once the wine has evaporated, add the peeled tomatoes and herbs. Let the sauce simmer gently for about an hour, stirring occasionally, until it thickens into a glossy, rich consistency.

Cook the pasta until al dente, toss in the sauce, and let it sit for a moment to absorb. Finish with a drizzle of raw olive oil and a sprinkle of toasted breadcrumbs or crushed walnuts for texture.

The result carries the same Lucanian patience — a slow, earthy sauce full of warmth and depth, without the weight of meat.

Fun Facts & Curiosities

The word intoppo literally means “something that gets in the way” — a playful nod to the chunks of meat that interrupt the pasta.
Traditionally, the sauce was started before dawn so that it would be ready when the family returned from Mass.
Sugo dell’Intoppo often included whatever meat was available — from rabbit to lamb — making every Sunday slightly different.
In some mountain villages, cooks add a pinch of cruschi powder or a dried chili to awaken the sauce’s sweetness.
Many Lucanian families still reuse the leftover sauce to make arancini lucani the next day — rice balls stuffed with yesterday’s ragù.
A local proverb says: “Chi prepara l’intoppo, non corre.” — “Those who make the Intoppo, never rush.”