Shape: Fusilli Lucani – The Pasta Twisted by Hand and Iron

In the kitchens of southern Italy, there exists a gesture that crosses borders and dialects — a roll, a twist, and a release. It is performed by countless hands from Basilicata to Calabria, from Campania to Sicily. A small rod, a strip of dough, and a practiced movement: this is how fusilli — or ferretti, or busiate, depending on where you stand — come to life.

In Basilicata, they are called Fusilli Lucani. In Calabria, Ferretti. In Campania’s Avellino hills, Fusilli Avellinesi. In western Sicily, Busiate. The tools may differ — iron, wire, reed — but the motion is the same. A spiral born from hand and patience. A pasta that seems to breathe with the rhythm of the South.

A Common Thread of Twisting Hands

To make fusilli lucani, a strip of semolina dough is rolled diagonally around a thin iron rod (ferretto). The fingers press lightly, then twist, creating a spiralled tube with a hollow core. It’s a simple movement, yet once learned, it becomes second nature — hypnotic, soothing, and precise.

The dough must be supple, not sticky; the roll must be confident, not rushed. Too much pressure, and it flattens; too little, and it slips. Once the dough is shaped, the rod is gently slid out, leaving behind a long, ridged pasta that dries with the memory of motion.

This tactile ritual has survived centuries unchanged. In many Lucanian families, the same ferretti — little metal rods — are passed down through generations. Some were cut from bicycle spokes, others from umbrella ribs. Each one carries a patina of use, smooth and cool in the hand, as if the iron itself remembers.

A Family of Spirals

What makes this pasta fascinating is how widely it travels under different names, each with its own nuance.

• In Basilicata, Fusilli Lucani or Fusilli al Ferretto remain a Sunday tradition.
• In Calabria, the same shape is often called Ferretti or Fusilli Calabresi — thicker, more muscular, designed to hold spicy ragùs.
• In Campania, especially around Avellino, they’re Fusilli Avellinesi, rolled longer and thinner, often dried in bundles.
• In Sicily, cousins known as Busiate are made not with metal but with a busa — a reed from the countryside, which leaves the same spiral imprint.
• Even in parts of Puglia, you find fusilli pugliesi, formed around knitting needles.

Different names, same soul. A single movement that migrated through shepherds, marriages, and market stalls, shaping itself to local tongues and tools.

The common ancestor is likely ancient lagane — wide, flat strips of dough eaten by the Greeks and Romans — later refined by southern women who found that twisting dough around a spindle gave it strength and sauce-catching beauty. Over centuries, the tool evolved, but the idea never changed.

Maccheroni: The Old Name for All Pasta

Before the industrial age, the word maccheroni was not a shape at all but a synonym for pasta itself. From Naples to Matera, from Bari to Palermo, maccheroni meant simply pasta made from durum wheat and water.

In the 16th and 17th centuries, travelers across the Kingdom of Naples described peasants eating long, tubular maccheroni dressed in oil or tomato. These were not the elbow-shaped “macaroni” of later factories but handmade spirals — the same kind of pasta we call fusilli today.

So when the English borrowed maccheroni, they were, in a way, naming this very Lucanian shape. The true, ancestral “macaroni” was a hand-rolled, rod-twisted fusillo — the pasta of the spiral, the pasta of the South.

The Spiral as a Symbol

There is something almost philosophical about the spiral. It is a shape without beginning or end, always moving yet always returning. In the context of pasta, it is both functional and poetic.

The ridges grip thick ragùs, the hollow core traps oil, and the twist keeps the bite firm. But it’s also a symbol of continuity — of hands repeating what their mothers and grandmothers did, of recipes looping through time.

In Basilicata, the spiral embodies endurance. The region is mountainous and poor in resources, yet rich in patience. Every movement in its cuisine — grinding grain, shaping dough, drying pasta — speaks of persistence. The spiral of the fusillo is a visual echo of that resilience: humble, strong, eternal.

A Marriage of Dough and Iron

The ferretto is a deceptively simple tool. It can be any narrow, smooth rod — about the thickness of a knitting needle. In earlier centuries, artisans made them from polished iron or brass; today, many families use stainless steel or aluminum. The key is not the material but the intimacy between hand, dough, and metal.

When the strip of dough wraps around the rod, it absorbs both pressure and warmth. The resulting pasta bears the fingerprint of its maker — literally. That individuality is what sets handmade fusilli apart from their machine-extruded cousins. Each strand is a record of motion; each twist a personal signature.

Basilicata’s Version: Fusilli Lucani

Among all these regional variations, Basilicata’s fusilli lucani stand out for their sturdiness and depth of flavor. Made from coarse semolina and water — no eggs — they reflect the land’s economy and generosity at once.

The Lucanian dough is slightly thicker than that used in neighboring Puglia or Campania, giving the pasta a satisfying chew. Once shaped, the fusilli are dried slowly on linen cloths or wooden trays, often near an open window. The result is a pasta that cooks evenly, holds sauce beautifully, and carries the aroma of wheat fields under sun.

Traditionally, fusilli lucani are served with ragù di carne mista — a slow sauce of pork ribs, sausage, and beef simmered in tomato — or with sugo dell’intoppo, the hearty “stumbling sauce” where chunks of meat surprise you as you eat. On leaner days, they appear with tomato, garlic, and breadcrumbs, or even chickpeas and wild fennel.

Whatever the dressing, the pasta remains the protagonist — textured, golden, alive.

BioPasta and the Modern Revival

In the hills near Potenza, the artisan producer BioPasta SRL continues this tradition with remarkable integrity. Founded in 2001, the company set out to revive Lucanian pasta-making using organic grain and time-honored methods.

Their Fusilli al Ferretto Biologici are crafted from Italian durum wheat semolina, extruded through bronze dies to replicate the rough surface of handmade pasta, and dried slowly at low temperatures. Nothing is rushed; flavor is allowed to unfold naturally.

The result is a pasta that feels both old and new — rooted in Basilicata’s history yet ready for the modern table. In every strand, you taste the grain, the patience, and the quiet pride of the region. BioPasta doesn’t imitate tradition; it extends it, keeping the spiral alive.

A Southern Language of Shapes

What’s remarkable about Italy’s rod-twisted pastas is how they form a kind of southern dialect of their own — one spoken through flour instead of words.
Fusilli, Ferretti, Busiate, Maccaruni, Strangulaprevete — each term reveals a local identity, yet all are connected by that same gesture of hand and rod.

In Basilicata, the language is one of solidity: big, thick spirals to stand up to mountain ragùs.
In Calabria, the tone is fiery: tighter twists, hotter sauces.
In Sicily, it becomes musical: busiate wrapped on reeds in the rhythm of the wind.

Across these regions, pasta tells the same story in different accents — the story of how touch transforms grain into memory.

Cooking the Spiral

To cook fusilli lucani properly, salt your water generously and give the pasta space to move. The strands should have room to dance, to untwist slightly but never lose their form.
They cook more slowly than machine-made pasta — often up to 12 minutes — and release a fragrant starch that thickens the sauce naturally.

Once drained, they’re best tossed immediately, still glistening with heat, into a pan of simmering ragù or oil. The sauce will climb into the spirals, clinging to every ridge. The first bite is dense, almost meaty; the second, tender and elastic. It’s the texture of tradition — soft and strong at once.

The Legacy of the Spiral

Handmade fusilli — by any name — are a small masterpiece of southern craftsmanship. They bridge the domestic and the divine, the everyday and the eternal. A strip of dough and a rod: that’s all it takes to create something that has lasted a thousand years.

The spiral that wraps around iron in a Lucanian kitchen is the same one that once formed in a Sicilian courtyard, a Calabrian farmhouse, a Campanian workshop. Each region gave it its own name, its own accent, but none altered its essence.

It is the shape of continuity, of patience, of care. The pasta of the people and of time itself.

Did You Know?

• Many names, one gesture: The rod-twisted pasta of southern Italy is known as fusilli in Basilicata, ferretti in Calabria, fusilli avellinesi in Campania, and busiate in Sicily.
• The oldest “macaroni”: Before industrialization, all these pastas were simply called maccheroni — a generic term for handmade semolina pasta.
• Ancient lineage: Their ancestor is lagane, described by the poet Horace in the 1st century BCE as a flat dough cooked with chickpeas.
• The tool of heritage: Every Lucanian family once owned its own set of ferretti — treasured metal rods passed down for generations.
• Modern guardians: BioPasta SRL in Basilicata continues the craft, producing organic Fusilli al Ferretto with traditional bronze dies and slow drying.
• A shape that unites: Whether iron or reed, thick or thin, each spiral is part of the same southern conversation — one of grain, sun, and human touch.