The Arabs in Sicily: When Pasta Took Root (9th–11th Century)

Setting the Scene: Sicily, 9th Century

Close your eyes and imagine Sicily in the year 827. Not the sleepy postcard Sicily of sun-drenched beaches and citrus groves, but an island brimming with tension and opportunity. Byzantines still clung to parts of it, but Arab forces had arrived, bringing with them not only military might but also knowledge, innovation, and an entirely new culinary vocabulary.

Among the most revolutionary things they introduced? A food that would eventually become Italy’s claim to culinary fame: pasta.

But let’s not run ahead. To understand how dried noodles found their way into Sicilian kitchens, you need to see the broader picture of Arab Sicily—a land where East met West, where irrigation systems turned deserts into gardens, and where semolina wheat, ground and shaped into strands called itriyya, changed food history forever.

Who Were the Arabs in Sicily?

The Arabs (more specifically, the Aghlabids from North Africa) launched their conquest of Sicily in 827 CE. Over the next century, they gradually took control, culminating in the capture of Palermo in 831 and later Syracuse in 878. By the 10th century, Sicily was firmly under Arab rule, and it thrived as part of the wider Islamic world.

Sicily became a crossroads: African, Middle Eastern, and Mediterranean influences all mingled on its soil. The Arabs didn’t just govern—they transformed the island. They built cities, strengthened trade links, and most importantly for our story, revolutionized agriculture.

Because without wheat, there is no pasta.

Durum Wheat: The Gold of Sicily

The Arabs were skilled agriculturalists. They introduced advanced irrigation techniques—qanats (underground channels), noria water wheels, and cisterns—allowing crops to flourish even in dry zones.

One of the crops that thrived spectacularly was durum wheat (Triticum durum). Unlike softer wheats used for bread, durum wheat is hard, amber-colored, and rich in gluten. This made it perfect for creating pasta dough that could be dried, stored, and then revived in boiling water without collapsing into mush.

Sicily’s climate—sunny, dry, and blessed with breezes—was a match made in heaven for durum wheat cultivation and for drying pasta outdoors. You can almost picture strings of golden noodles drying in the Sicilian sun, fluttering in the wind like laundry.

The Invention (or Perfection) of Itriyya

Now we arrive at the heart of the story: itriyya.

Arabic sources mention itriyya as a staple product in Sicily during the 9th–11th centuries. The word itself appears in texts like those of the 10th-century geographer al-Idrisi, who described how dried noodles from Sicily were exported across the Mediterranean, all the way to North Africa and the Middle East.

Itriyya wasn’t fresh pasta. It was a dried product, designed to last. That was the real innovation: while many cultures had versions of boiled dough, the Arabs in Sicily perfected the art of making dried noodles from durum wheat. This turned pasta into a food of trade, travel, and permanence.

Think of it this way: without the Arabs in Sicily, pasta might have remained just another perishable dough. Instead, it became shelf-stable, transportable, and a culinary passport for Italians centuries later.

Pasta as Survival Food

Why did dried pasta matter so much? Because it solved a basic problem of survival.

• For pilgrims and travelers: Journeys in the Middle Ages were long and arduous. Bread spoiled quickly. Meat was scarce. But a bag of itriyya could last weeks or months, needing only water and heat to prepare.
• For soldiers and sailors: Portable, nourishing, and lightweight—pasta was the medieval equivalent of military rations.
• For merchants: Dried pasta was an export commodity. From Palermo’s bustling ports, ships carried itriyya to Muslim North Africa, the Levant, and beyond.

In other words, the Arabs in Sicily transformed pasta from a local curiosity into a Mediterranean superfood.

Sicily as a Culinary Laboratory

Arab Sicily wasn’t just about pasta. It was about transformation on every level of the table. The Arabs introduced sugar cane, citrus fruits (lemons, oranges, bitter oranges), eggplant, rice, spinach, saffron, and almonds—ingredients that still define Sicilian cuisine today.

But here’s the fun part: many of these ingredients later paired beautifully with pasta.

• Almonds became pesto-like sauces.
• Citrus fruits added zest and tang.
• Eggplant gave rise to pasta alla Norma.
• Saffron flavored dishes like pasta con le sarde, which still carries Arab fingerprints.

So while pasta may have been their most enduring gift, the Arabs also gave Sicily the flavor palette that pasta would eventually play on.

Palermo: The Pasta Capital Before Its Time

During Arab rule, Palermo grew into one of the most dazzling cities of the Mediterranean, rivaling Cairo and Córdoba. It wasn’t just politically important—it was a hub of trade and food culture.

Imagine the city’s bustling souks (markets), where merchants hawked spices, dried fruits, sugars, oils, and yes, bags of golden dried itriyya. Buyers from Africa, Spain, and the Middle East loaded them onto ships. Pasta was no longer confined to Sicily’s kitchens; it was a global traveler.

This was pasta before Italy even existed.

Pasta in Literature: Proof in the Texts

The existence of pasta in Arab Sicily isn’t just a culinary myth—it’s documented.

• The word itriyya appears in multiple Arabic sources between the 9th and 11th centuries.

• Al-Idrisi, writing in 1154 for the Norman King Roger II of Sicily, famously described how dried noodles were made in Trabia (near Palermo) and exported in large quantities.

Even though al-Idrisi wrote slightly later (12th century), he was reporting on a tradition already centuries old. By his time, the pasta industry in Sicily was flourishing.

A Food of Fusion

Here’s the poetic part: pasta was born from fusion.

Arab knowledge of drying and semolina met Sicily’s fertile fields and Mediterranean climate. Add to that the cultural melting pot of the island—Byzantines, Arabs, Berbers, Jews, Normans—and you have the perfect incubator for culinary innovation.

Pasta wasn’t “Italian” yet. It was Arab-Sicilian, a child of necessity, trade, and cultural blending. Italy would later claim it, dress it in tomato sauce, and crown it king—but in the 800s–1000s, pasta belonged to Sicily under Arab influence.

Everyday Life with Pasta in Arab Sicily

How might a bowl of pasta have looked in 10th-century Sicily? Forget carbonara or ragù. Think simple: noodles boiled in water, flavored with oil, cheese, or maybe a sprinkling of local herbs.

Dried pasta wasn’t luxury cuisine. It was hearty, filling, and practical. It fueled workers in the fields, travelers on the road, and sailors at sea. In that sense, pasta was democratic from the very beginning.

The Legacy of Arab Pasta in Sicily

By the time the Normans arrived in the late 11th century, pasta was already part of the island’s fabric. The new rulers inherited not just cities and palaces, but also irrigation systems, wheat fields, and the know-how of itriyya.

From Sicily, the idea spread northward into mainland Italy. By the late Middle Ages, pasta was being made in Liguria, Campania, and beyond. Eventually, Naples and Genoa would rival Sicily in pasta production. But the seed had been planted by the Arabs.

Fun (and Tasty) Anecdotes

• Some historians suggest that Sicilian pasta may have traveled with Arab traders back to Tunisia and Morocco, influencing local couscous traditions.

• Others argue the opposite: that the techniques of couscous influenced Sicilian pasta. Either way, the culinary dialogue was real.

• Trabia, the town al-Idrisi mentioned, is still proud of its pasta heritage today. Locals celebrate it as one of the world’s earliest pasta production centers.

Why This Period Matters

The Arabs in Sicily between the 9th and 11th centuries represent one of those pivotal culinary crossroads. Without their irrigation, durum wheat cultivation, and pasta-drying expertise, pasta might have remained a forgotten experiment.

Instead, it became an enduring staple, ready to be embraced, adapted, and eventually Italianized.

So next time you twirl a forkful of spaghetti, remember: you’re tasting a thousand-year-old innovation, born in the sunlit fields of Arab Sicily.

Conclusion: Pasta’s Arab Soul

Let’s be clear: pasta is Italian today. But in the 9th to 11th centuries, pasta’s soul was Arab.

It was shaped by Muslim farmers, perfected by Sicilian sun, and carried on Arab ships across the seas. It was the food of survival, trade, and connection.

“A plate of pasta is Italy served on a dish,” we like to say. But before it was Italy, before tomatoes, before forks even existed, that dish was seasoned with the genius of Arab Sicily.