The Gold of the High Plains

The Morning Light of Navelli

Before the world wakes, the plateau of Navelli glows faintly blue.
Then, as the first sun slips over the Gran Sasso, the soil bursts into violet — thousands of crocus flowers opening in unison.
This is the brief, breath-held season of Zafferano dell’Aquila, Abruzzo’s red gold, the spice that turns an otherwise humble pasta into something luminous: Tacconelle allo Zafferano dell’Aquila — though depending where you stand, you might call those sheets taccozze or taccozzelle instead.

A Pasta with Many Names

Across central Italy, pasta often changes its name when it crosses a hill.
In L’Aquila and northern Abruzzo, cooks speak of tacconelle — small rectangular patches of soft-wheat dough, sometimes enriched with an egg.
Travel south toward Molise, and the same shape becomes taccozze or taccozzelle — broader, thicker, cut from durum-wheat semolina and water.

Different flours, same gesture: roll, fold, slice, and scatter like scraps of cloth.
The root word tacco means “patch” or “tile,” a clue to its handmade nature.
It’s peasant ingenuity made edible — the art of cutting something imperfect and making it perfect through sauce.

For simplicity we’ll call them tacconelle, but remember: in the dialects of the Apennines, names shift like the wind.

A Dish Born of Shepherds

These square ribbons are pasta of the mountains, not the coast.
They were rolled on wooden boards in stone kitchens, by women whose husbands followed sheep between Abruzzo and Puglia along the tratturi — the ancient transhumance trails.

Eggs were scarce, so the dough relied on flour, water, and a steady hand.
The resulting pasta cooked quickly and carried sauce beautifully.
When saffron entered the story, it transformed a simple staple into a feast-day ritual — served at Easter, weddings, or the saffron harvest itself.

The Meeting of Saffron and Grain

Legend credits a 13th-century friar, Santucci of Navelli, with bringing saffron bulbs from Spain or the Levant. Whether true or not, the flower found its natural home here. By the Renaissance, Abruzzese saffron was traded across Europe, prized for its strength and purity.

Uniting that spice with tacconelle was inevitable.
Both are products of patience; both depend on climate, altitude and care.
Together they express the geography of Abruzzo: hard soil, bright sun, cold air — and human persistence.

The Landscape in a Pan

The genius of Tacconelle allo Zafferano lies in its restraint.
The sauce is almost minimalist:
saffron, butter or olive oil, and ricotta or pecorino — nothing more.

Each element mirrors a landscape zone:

• The saffron from Navelli’s plain, dried over oak embers.
• The butter from mountain dairies, or, closer to the coast, the peppery olive oil of Chieti.
• The cheese — soft ricotta in spring, or Pecorino di Farindola, the unique ewe’s-milk cheese made with pig’s rennet.

The result is a plate that smells of hayfields and sunlight — rich yet weightless.

The Recipe

Tacconelle allo Zafferano dell’Aquila (also known as Taccozze or Taccozzelle allo Zafferano)

Serves 4

Ingredients

• 400 g fresh tacconelle (or taccozze/taccozzelle)
• 0.2 g (A small pinch) of Zafferano dell’Aquila threads
• 4 tbsp unsalted butter or Abruzzese extra-virgin olive oil
• 80 g fresh ricotta or 40 g grated Pecorino di Farindola
• Sea salt
• A few reserved threads of saffron for garnish

Method

1. Infuse the saffron.
   Steep the threads in four tablespoons of warm water for at least two hours — longer if you can. The liquid should turn a deep amber.
2. Cook the pasta.
   Boil in salted water until just tender; these rustic sheets need a few extra seconds compared with egg tagliatelle.
3. Make the sauce.
   In a wide pan, melt the butter or warm the oil. Pour in the saffron infusion; let it emulsify into a pale golden cream.
4. Combine.
   Drain the pasta straight into the pan and toss gently, adding a spoon of cooking water for silkiness.
5. Finish.
   Off the heat, stir through the ricotta or pecorino until glossy. Garnish with saffron threads.

Result: sunlight on a plate — fragrant, mellow, quietly majestic.

The Plant-Based Path

To make the dish vegan without losing its soul:

• Use olive oil instead of butter.
• Replace cheese with a spoonful of almond cream or ground blanched cashews, adding body and sweetness.
• A few drops of lemon juice mimic the lactic tang of ricotta.

The flavors become lighter, more floral — saffron at centre stage.

Where to Taste It

• Villa Maiella, Guardiagrele – Peppino Tinari’s refined version with saffron reduction and aged pecorino.
• Trattoria da Lincosta, L’Aquila – the rustic butter-and-ricotta classic.
• Agriturismo Navelli – cooked metres from the saffron fields, served in terracotta bowls.

Each serves the same palette of gold and grain — proof that simplicity endures.

Tacconelle vs Taccozze or Taccozzette – A Question of Accent

Visitors often ask if tacconelle and taccozze are the same.
The answer: cousins, not twins.

In short: tacconelle belong to the saffron hills; taccozze to the bean fields further south.
But both share the same ancestry — a square of dough, cut by eye and blessed by hunger.

Modern Echoes

Contemporary chefs reinterpret the old shape:

• Magione Papale (L’Aquila) serves saffron-butter ravioli, a modern echo of the tacconella.
• Along the Costa dei Trabocchi, saffron meets seafood — linguine alle vongole e zafferano — a dialogue between mountain and sea.
• Artisan producers like Rustichella d’Abruzzo and Zaccagni now cut small-batch tacconelle with bronze dies, exporting Abruzzo’s “patches of sunshine” worldwide.

The dish evolves, but never loses its humility.

Fun Facts & Curiosities

• It takes about 150 crocus flowers to yield one gram of saffron.
• A hectare of Navelli fields produces barely 10 kg a year.
• Traditional families call this “pasta delle feste” – feast-day pasta – because saffron bloomed just once annually.
• Authentic saffron turns water golden slowly, never instantly – a simple trick to spot imitations.
• In medieval L’Aquila, saffron threads were used as currency and even paid church tithes.
• Molise legend says spilling a few taccozze on the floor ensures good luck – the dough “feeds the spirits of the house.”

Reflection – When Patience Turns to Light

In a world that measures success by speed, Tacconelle allo Zafferano dell’Aquila insists on rhythm.
You cannot hurry a flower that blooms for a day or a dough that rests to breathe.

Every golden thread in the sauce carries a story: a picker bent over violet petals, a family stirring a copper pan, a region that found elegance in austerity.
Every square of pasta recalls hands that worked with little and made plenty.

Whether you call them tacconelle, taccozze, or taccozzelle, they speak the same language — that of the Abruzzo-Molise mountains, where sunlight is eaten slowly and remembered for a long time.