Recipe: Pasta e Fagioli alla Lucana

Introduction / Story

There’s a particular kind of quiet that only exists in the Lucanian mountains — the kind that comes after snow has fallen, when smoke curls slowly from the chimneys and time itself seems to rest.
Inside, something simmers. A pot on a small fire, filled with beans, olive oil, and patience.

That is Pasta e Fagioli alla Lucana — not a recipe so much as a ritual. It’s a dish that has sustained shepherds, farmers, and families for centuries; a complete meal disguised as simplicity.

Every spoonful feels like the land it comes from — earthy, steady, kind. The beans are soft and creamy, the pasta humble and irregular, the olive oil golden and deep. It’s a bowl that says: you have enough.

And in Basilicata, that’s the highest compliment food can give.

History & Cultural Context

Long before nutritionists started talking about “complete proteins,” Lucanians had already found their answer: wheat and beans. Together, they nourished generations through long winters and lean years.

In the valleys of Sarconi, farmers grew dozens of bean varieties, each with its own name — tabaccanti, ciuoto, panzariedd, tuvagliedd. Over time, these became collectively known as Fagioli di Sarconi IGP, now one of Italy’s most prized beans. Their creamy texture and delicate skins make them perfect for slow-cooked dishes like this one.

Pasta e Fagioli alla Lucana has always been a meal of resilience. In times of scarcity, meat disappeared from the pot, but flavour didn’t. Herbs, wild fennel, dried tomatoes, and peperoni cruschi filled the gap. The dish changed slightly from valley to valley — thicker in the mountains, soupier near the plains — but the spirit stayed the same: nothing wasted, everything shared.

Even today, in Sarconi, August brings the Sagra del Fagiolo, a festival where enormous copper pots of beans bubble over open flames, feeding hundreds of people with that same humble generosity.

The Pasta Shape

In Basilicata, pasta is never perfect. That’s part of its charm. For Pasta e Fagioli, cooks use whatever they have on hand — usually maltagliati (irregular pasta scraps), lagane spezzate (wide strips torn by hand), or small strascinati rotti, broken before cooking.

These shapes are porous, rustic, and ideal for absorbing the broth-like sauce. Their uneven edges catch bits of bean and oil, giving every bite texture and rhythm.

In some areas, particularly around Viggiano and Tramutola, people used mischiglio — a flour blend of wheat, chickpeas, and broad beans — to make the pasta more nourishing. It turned every bowl into a quiet masterpiece of rural nutrition.

The Sauce / Key Ingredients

The beauty of Pasta e Fagioli alla Lucana is in its restraint. Every ingredient feels essential, none redundant.

The core components:

• Fagioli di Sarconi IGP (or any creamy white bean)
• Olive oil from Ferrandina
• Garlic and onion
• Bay leaf or wild fennel
• Tomatoes — fresh, sun-dried, or passata
• Salt, pepper, and sometimes cruschi flakes

The method is patient: first, the beans simmer slowly with aromatics until tender. Then comes the tomato base, gently sautéed in olive oil, which is stirred into the beans. The pasta cooks directly in the pot so it releases its starch — thickening the dish naturally into a velvety harmony between soup and sauce.

It’s not flashy — but that’s exactly the point. In Basilicata, comfort isn’t an indulgence; it’s a memory you can taste.

Modern Interpretations & Who’s Cooking It Now

Across Basilicata, chefs are giving Pasta e Fagioli the reverence it deserves.

At Ristorante Luna Rossa in Terranova di Pollino, Chef Luigi Perrone serves a refined version with Sarconi beans puréed into a cream, topped with handmade lagane and a crisp of peperone crusco.
In Matera’s Dimora Ulmo, Pasta e Fagioli becomes art — served in two layers: a base of bean velouté and, above it, a nest of maltagliati glazed with reduced olive oil and fennel pollen.

Even small trattorie like Da Pinuccia in Sarconi or Le Tre Torri in Avigliano keep the original method alive, simmering beans overnight and stirring with wooden spoons blackened from years of use.

Wherever you find it, the first spoonful is always the same: quiet, grounding, and impossible to rush.

Traditional Recipe

Ingredients

• 250 g dried Fagioli di Sarconi (or borlotti beans)
• 200 g maltagliati or broken lagane pasta or tagliatelle
• 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 1 small onion, finely chopped
• 2 garlic cloves
• 1 bay leaf or sprig of wild fennel
• 300 g crushed tomatoes or passata
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• Optional: a pinch of peperone crusco flakes or chili
• Extra olive oil for serving

Method

Soak the beans overnight in cold water. The next day, drain and rinse them. In a large pot, cover with fresh water, add the bay leaf, and cook gently until tender — about 1 hour. Set aside, keeping them in their broth.

In another pot, heat the olive oil and sauté the onion and garlic until golden. Add the tomatoes and cook slowly for 15–20 minutes, letting the sauce thicken.

Transfer the tomato mixture to the pot with the beans. Stir, season, and bring back to a gentle simmer. Add the pasta directly into the pot — this step is crucial, as the starch from the pasta thickens the broth naturally. Stir occasionally until the pasta is cooked and the sauce has turned creamy.

Serve in wide bowls with a generous drizzle of raw olive oil and, if desired, a dusting of cruschi powder or black pepper.

The perfect Pasta e Fagioli alla Lucana should be neither a soup nor a stew — just something beautifully in between.

Fun Facts & Curiosities

• The Fagiolo di Sarconi IGP comes in over 20 local varieties, all grown within the Val d’Agri area — a single valley that produces one of Italy’s most diverse bean heritages.
• In some villages, cooks once stirred the pot clockwise only, believing counterclockwise brought bad luck or a poor harvest.
• Pasta e Fagioli was traditionally eaten with a wooden spoon, said to preserve the flavor better than metal.
• A common superstition held that the first bowl of the new year’s beans guaranteed prosperity — “Chi mangia legumi, campa cent’anni” (Who eats beans, lives a hundred years).
• The Sarconi Bean Festival each August ends with a collective meal served in the town square, where every family contributes a pot.
• Locals say, “Se non c’è fretta, c’è sapore.” — “If there’s no hurry, there’s flavor.”