Cavatelli con Fave e Cicoria

A cucina povera dish from the Murge plateau of Apulia and Basilicata, eaten by farmhands since at least the 1800s — dried fava beans were winter staple protein, wild chicory grew free along field edges. The bitter-sweet pairing is older than the pasta itself; cavatelli was added when semola became affordable. In Apulia the purée is called 'ncapriata or fave e fogghie.

Cucina povera dish from the Murge plateau of Apulia and Basilicata, eaten by farmhands since at least the 1800s — dried fava was winter staple protein, wild chicory grew free along field edges. In Apulia the purée is called 'ncapriata or fave e fogghie. The fava must be dried, peeled, and slow-simmered with a single potato — the potato isn't seasoning, it's there for body. Skipping the peel leaves grey skins that turn the purée muddy.

Two textures on one plate: small thumb-pressed pasta shells, slightly chewy with a ridge that holds sauce, beside a mound of pale yellow fava purée and dark wilted chicory. The fava is sweet and starchy, the chicory genuinely bitter, the pasta neutral between them. Olive oil goes on at the table, a heavy drizzle that the purée drinks up.

The fava must be dried, peeled, and slow-simmered with a single potato until it collapses into a near-pourable purée — the potato isn't seasoning, it's there for body. Skipping the peel leaves grey skins that turn the purée muddy and grainy. Chicory is boiled in salted water that's then partly used to loosen the purée, carrying its bitterness back into the dish on purpose.