The bakeries I’ve been banned from in Naples

The city of Naples dates back to the 2nd Millennium BC. Visited for its rich history, jaw-dropping seaside views and stunning architecture, Napoli's full potential is however still underappreciated.

In addition to its elegant buildings, sense of style and historic sites, Naples is a superlative food destination.

While pizza is the first food-association, the city's pastry scene is equally tantalizing. So much so that my nutritionist has issued a restraining order that prohibits me from returning too often to the city's historical pastry outlets.

Here is a list of bakeries in Naples I've been banned from (and where I nonetheless go as often as I can).

Antica Pasticceria Vincenzo Bellavia

This native Sicilian bakery at its fouth generation since 1925 is where Neapolitans stop for breakfast or to pick up top-notch cannoli, cassata as well as a wide variety of traditional Neapolitan pastries and gelato, plus classic or gluten-free desserts, holiday creations, spumoni and more. My guilty pleasure here is the Mery Mou cake, a caramel and meringue production topped with whipped cream and crunchy chocolate pralines. The variety and the quality of products put family-run Bellavia among the city's best, with four city-wide locations, including one in the Naples Capodichino airport.

Pasticceria Salvatore Capparelli

While enjoying a beautiful view of Piazzetta San Gaetano not far from Basilica di San Paolo Maggiore, I like to linger with Signora Pina, peacefully putting away the shop's fine selection of traditional pastries like parigine, zeppole and ventagli. Capparelli's best insight into the true taste of Naples is however their babà. The pillowy mushroom-shaped levened pastry is baked and then soaked in a simple syrup and rum blend, and is one of the city's symbolic desserts. Babà can be plain, or filled with sweetened whipped cream, pastry cream, and even ricotta cream, topped with macerated cherries or fresh berries.

Carraturo

Founded in 1837, this is one of my favorite and less glitzy bakeries in Naples. Usually after a slow passeggiata from the Archeological Museum, passing by the Contemporary Madre Museum, I head east to busy Piazza di Porta Capuana (old city stone gate with triumphal carvings) just to stop at Carraturo, and then virtually feel my blood sugar spike. Round occhio di bue shortbread biscuits, babà, pastiera and other classic Neapolitan specialties are always served with a smile. A fine cup of espresso coffee completes the offer.

Gran Caffè Cimmino

Well known for its aromatic espresso, this is where locals can rely on for their zeppole. A word about these delightful pastries: Zeppole di San Giuseppe are baked (or fried) in the days leading up to San Giuseppe (the feast of St. Joseph, on March 19th, Italian Father's Day). These are ring-shaped choux pastry that once baked/fried are sliced open and filled with lemon-scented pastry cream and topped with syrupy amarena cherries. Obviously the fried zeppole are better. Cimmino has two branches, one on Via Filangieri and the other, with gulf and Mt Vesuvius views, on posh Via Petrarca. Both shops have issued a court order against me for excessive patronage.

Gran Caffe Gambrinus

Located at the intersection of Piazza Plebiscito, classy via Chiaia and the royal palace of Naples, with its own Teatro San Carlo opera house, the historic cafè has been a haunt for intellectuals, politicians, and bon vivants since 1860. Reminiscent of the elegant Belle Epoque coffee houses of Vienna or Paris, illustrious Italian celebrities––like poet Gabriele D'Annunzio and philosopher Benedetto Croce, as well as international personalities such as Oscar Wilde and Ernest Hemingway––shaped the country's culture while munching on buttery tea-time biscotti.

Mazz

When ricotta and cream are whipped together with poached pears and then sandwiched between speculoos-type hazelnut biscotti, you get a delicious local cake called ricotta e pera. While the crunchy crust pushes out the soft center when bitten into it, the contrast in textures and delightful taste make this one of my favorite Napolitan cakes. I have found the best ricotta e pera to be served at Mazzaro, which recently changed its name to Mazz. Located on Via dei Tribunali, the bakery sits under the archway with the bronze Pulcinella head. Their zuppa inglese (a sort of trifle) isn't bad either!

Mennella

Way back in 1969, Antonio Mennella set up his pastry shop in Torre del Greco. Fast forward 40+ years later when the founder's sons Vincenzo, Giuseppe and Roberto's passion turned those humble beginnings into a booming pastry and gelato business, opening 5 city-wide shops and a modern centralized bakery lab where their traditional and modern creations come to life.

Moccia

In the spring of 1936, inheriting her parents' passion for bread baking, Signora Giuseppina Moccia opened a panificio on Via Roccella, now called Via Carducci. When in 2014 the San Pasquale branch of the family franchise closed, we worshippers of their signature pizzette and sweets were in shock for months. The Posillipo store still bakes amazing Caprese, Pastiera, Delizia al Limone and other classic cakes, including a ring shaped babà cake that's not to be believed. A satellite business called Moccia 1936 recently opened by ex-Moccia employees on Via Benedetto Croce, that focuses on the savory signature pizzetta di Moccia.

Poppella

In the heart of the Rione Sanità, in business since 1920, family-run Pasticceria Poppella is where university students and musicians on a break between solfeggios at the conservatory come for Fiocco di Neve (a brioche bun filled with a cream whose recipe is kept secret), Calice di San Gennaro and Bombetta di Totò (white and dark chocolate dipped babà filled with cream), torta Napulè and more. With the third generation now at the helm, in 2016 Poppella opened a second branch on via Santa Brigida, at a stone's throw from the Maschio Angioino castle, Galleria Umberto I and Teatro San Carlo.

Scaturchio

Locals and dessert lovers in Naples flock to the city's oldest pasticceria for cakes like pastiera––a sweet semolina tart filled with orange blossom flavored-ricotta––that's still made according to the century-old original recipe. It's the Ministeriale however that fully represents the 1905 brand. This dark chocolate disk with creamy liqueur, ricotta and hazelnut filling was invented in 1919 by Francesco Scaturchio for the singer diva who went by the name of Anna Fougez (her real name was Maria Annina Laganà Pappacena). The success of the praline urged its creator to request the title of supplier for the royal house of Savoy, for which he underwent a grueling bureaucratic procedure at various ministries; which gave the chocolate the name "Ministeriale."

Voglia di Graffa

Under the city of Naples is another polis. Going under street level allows to visit areas of urban development from the city's early beginnings to the present day. See the remains of the Greco-Roman aqueduct and the Roman theater in an underground journey spanning 2,400 years of history, from the ancient Greeks to the present day, revealing the "belly" of Naples from an archaeological, historical, anthropological and geological point of view. When you emerge back in Via dei Tribunali, reward yourself with a graffa, a typical Italian fried donut, made with potato in the dough. Voglia di Graffa is a teeny take-out place that offers made-to-order donuts: warm, delicious and tremendously caloric.

"Napoli tre cose tene 'e belle: 'o sole, 'o mare e 'a sfugliatella"

I feel sfogliatella deserves its own story.

If the rum-soaked babà is king, sfogliatella is the queen of Napoli's traditional pastries. There are three versions of sfogliatella: riccia, frolla and Santa Rosa.

The crust of the riccia ("ruffled") is unique: layers of phyllo-style pastry are each slathered with a thin veil of rendered lard and rolled very thin. The obtained pastry dough is then shaped into a clam-like shell and filled with a custardy mixture of semolina, sweetened ricotta, eggs, sugar, candied citrus and a hint of cinnamon. When baked, the layers separate and become crisp, giving the sfogliatella its characteristic ridged look. Icing sugar sprinkled on top completes these messy bites.

Sfogliatella frolla, on the other hand, pasta frolla (shortbread crust) instead of the flaky layered one of the riccia. The filling remains the same, while the smooth buttery crust is round and dome-shaped.

Sfogliatella Santa Rosa is essentially a riccia topped with pastry cream and pitted cherries macerated in syrup.

I eat sfogliatella any time I can, and in Naples any self-respecting bakery will have their own version. After extensive research, I have pared down my favorite sfogliatelle to the following bakeries:

Photo © thesooper.it

Fratelli Attanasio

At a stone's throw from the Napoli Centrale train station, wedged in a tiny alley, is a pastry shop that focuses its production on sfogliatelle of all kinds. In business since 1930, Attanasio’s particularity is the always hot "parking" oven where sfogliatelle are kept warm and dusted with icing sugar at the very last moment.

Photo © thesooper.it

Pintauro

This place has been serving sfogliatelle since 1785. Pasquale Pintauro is the name of the pastry chef that started selling them after acquiring the original ancient recipe devised by the nuns of the cloistered convent of Santa Rosa in Conca dei Marini, on the Amalfi Coast, dating back to the 1600s.

Photo © thesooper.it

Sfogliatella Mary

This is a tiny bakery located at the western (via Toledo) entrance to Naples' oldest shopping mall, the Galleria Umberto, which sits opposite Teatro San Carlo. The queue outside this hole in the wall betrays the quality of the sfogliatelle. Their frolle are without a doubt the best in town.

To thoroughly appreciate sfogliatelle, it's of paramount importance to eat them straight out of the oven while still warm. A warning, though: in the rapture of the scent of sugar and cinnamon, please avoid voraciously biting into them carelessly like I usually do: the pastry shell is warm, but the ricotta filling is volcanic.

If writing about Naples and my pastry addiction, I wouldn't be doing justice to either if I concluded without mentioning chocolate.

My favorite temples of cioccolato in Naples are:

Image © napolistories.it

Gay-Odin

The historical chocolatier founded in 1894 is the dream come true of Isidoro Odin, a masterful confectioner who moved to the city from the north of Italy, and his wife Onorina Gay, both attracted by the vibrant cultural animation that Naples offered in that period. Gay-Odin has grown and now has nine shops across the city, and one in Milan and another dangerously located 2 block from my house in Rome. The various chocolate pralines, chocolate bars and signature sweets are still produced with the same artisanal expertise. Favorite creations include Foresta, chocolate bark made of milk chocolate, and the Vesuvio, shaped and named after the nearby dormant volcano.

Antica Cioccolateria Parlato

The small shop at Via Chiaia 237 is a bit dark and cramped, but the cozy environment is saturated with the sweet smell of cocoa filling the room. A place that truly maintains faith to its name. In fact, Antica Cioccolateria Parlato is not only in its original location, but also keeps the same artisan vocation, including in the small streetside display window, the signage, the counter, wooden shelves, and glass bowls filled with chocolate pralines, liqueur chocolates, bars and delicious "confetti" sugared almonds that beg to be perused.

Casa Infante

True, this place falls in the gelateria category, but it cannot go unmentioned. Originating in the 1940s, the family-run gelateria boasts fine homemade flavors such as chocolate, caramel, and creamy white chocolate, and seasonal delights like walnuts from Sorrento, cantaloupe melon and Amalfi lemon. I have been banned from the Piazza Vanvitelli store for having abused of thier cheesecake flavor that came served with cascading blackberries, blueberries, redcurrants, cookies and strawberries, and from the Via Chiaia branch for ordering too many jars of layered caramel speculoos cookie flavor topped with Lotus cream...

Il Vero Bar del Professore

Il Vero Bar del Professore's famous caffè nocciolato del Professore is an espresso topped with hazelnut cream. I just want you to know that in winter time this sweet delight can also come served in a stubby wafer gelato cone lined with dark chocolate…

What's your favorite pastry shop/bakery in Naples?

Fritto di Paranza ~ Fried Whitebait Recipe

We Italians are great fans of fried fish, and little else will bring smiles quicker around the dinner table than a fritto di paranza, a fry of assorted small fish, whose name is inspired by the typical wooden fishing boats used in southern Italy.



In many families, Christmas Eve dinner revolves around a menu of fresh fish. Before placing the babe statuette in the crèche manger, my family and I will be enjoying crisp fritto di paranza, along with other festive foods.

The requirements for awesome fritto di paranza are using absolutely freshly caught wild fish, and good frying skills.
Some confuse this recipe with Frittura Mista, which also may include calamari, shrimp, prawns, cuttlefish, squid and other assorted mollusks and crustaceans. But traditional fritto di paranza is made with 2-inch long (from head to tail) fish, which have been simply rolled in flour, deep fried, and then served with lemon wedges and a raw onion. You smash the onion, and eat crunchy bits of it with the fried pesciolini – heads and all (unless they're a little larger than 3 inches, in which case you may want to remove the heads). Purists frown on cleaning the fish, claiming the intestines provide a slightly sharper flavor. I prefer my paranza fish cleaned, but when the heads are small they're pleasingly crunchy, and the tails serve as perfect handles.

The best choice for paranza is shimmery-skinned pesce azzurro, and in particular, a local variety of whitebait called Latterini – small silvery-white fish. Latterini generally designate other varieties of small newborn fish, but only latterini can be bought without infringing the law, since these are a particular species whose adults never grow beyond their 2-3 inch size, while as far as the other kinds of newborn catch – like immature herring, sprat, sardines, mackerel, and bass – their marketing is illegal.

Common Neapolitan paranza may include, according to season and availability, small codfish, red mullet, little sole fish (in Naples called fricassuàr) and other small species like anchovies, and rock goby.

Fritto di paranza has one more mandatory clause, and that is it must be eaten absolutely piping hot. The Neapolitan expression frijenno magnanno, refers to exactly that, and it translates "frying and eating," implying the fritto should be eaten as it is being fried.

Here's what you'll need to make fritto di paranza to serve 4:

1 kg (2.2 lbs) of assorted tiny, 2-inch sized whitebait
2 cups flour for dredging
Abundant olive oil for frying
2 pinches of sea salt
Several lemons, cut into wedges
1 large white onion, peeled

Wash, clean out and pat the fish dry.

Coat thoroughly with flour, making sure each little fish is well covered. In batches, fry the whitebait for about 3-4 minutes, until crisp and lightly golden. Remove from the bubbling oil with a slotted spoon and drain on kitchen towels. Repeat until all the fish are fried.

Season with salt and serve with the lemon wedges and the raw onion shreds.

Keep crusty home-style bread, and one or more chilled bottles of Vermentino in an ice bucket, within close reach.

Image © fingerforkknife.com

How to make coffee with a Napoletana pot

Sure, the piping hot cup you get at the coffee bar in Italy is something else. With its trademark froth and energetic kick, properly extracted espresso is superb.

But as far as homemade coffee goes, the Napoletana stovetop espresso pot historically delivers the best.

The flavor of the caffè is "round," longer and more complex than regular coffee made with a Moka.

Naples is a city often associated with pizza and spaghetti. But if you've ever tasted coffee in Naples, you'll agree it's probably the best you've ever had. Scholars hold the water responsible, others say it's the technique, some say it's magic. The Napoletana was invented in 1819, and is used less and less on a regular basis in Italian households. And that's because using a Napoletana is not easy: bizarre mechanics, empirical measurements and lots of patience are involved.

Here is a step-by-step tutorial on how to brew a little bliss with a Napoletana, a ritual more than a method.

Tip: Use only the best finely ground coffee. Coffee powder is best kept in an air-tight glass or glazed earthenware container, not plastic. And stored in a cupboard, not the refrigerator.

Tip: Don't skimp on the coffee powder. Compact it with the back of a spoon and then make 3 little holes in the surface with a toothpick.

Tip: Overturn the Napoletana in one quick, single move, holding it by both handles. During this movement water will spout from the escape hole, this is totally normal.

Tip: While you wait for the water to drip down through the filter, make a little paper cone called "coppetiello," and place it on the spout. This will keep the aroma form escaping the pot :)

Waiting times vary according to pot. Mine takes 15 minutes to full drip down, some are quicker. You'll have to figure that part out on your own.

Can't find a Napoletana (also called maghenetta in dialect) where you live?

Buy one on my Amazon store and have it delivered to your doorstep!

Winter pasta sampler

Chilly weather is the Italian invitation for starch-dependent menus. Though they're consumed with abandon year-round, winter gives carbs an even bigger welcome mat.
Some pasta dishes are particularly well suited to the colder months, most not necessarily dependent on seasonal ingredients. They include hearty grain and vegetable soups, richly dressed ragùs, and the best of all gourmet comfort foods, risotto.

Here are three of my favorite stalwart winter primi piatti, with a little bit of history and recipes.
Continue reading ➔

Ziti alla Genovese recipe

This delectable pasta recipe is called "alla genovese," but it's not a dish particular to Genoa. This is a purely Neapolitan delight.

If you've been reading my posts, you'll know I always share a little bit of history. "La Genovese" is said to have been first prepared around the time when Columbus landed in the New World, by a selected group of Genoan chefs belonging to the rich and self-implemented Ligurian colony stationed in the Naples seaport district. It's the pasta condiment customarily made for Sunday lunch, and one of my all-time Napoli favorites. In detailing a Pasta primer a few months back, I had promised to post the recipe. Well, here it is.

Note: For its hearty and bold nature, weak stomachs and delicate appetites should abstain from consuming genovese in sight of a busy afternoon (or one that doesn't envision napping).


2 kg (4.4 lbs) of yellow onions
1 kg (2.2 lbs) of rump steak, chopped into stew size parts
250 g (1 1/4 cups) unsmoked bacon, diced
250 g (1/2 lb) pork spare ribs
1 carrot
1 celery rib
2 glasses of dry white wine
1 cup extra virgin olive oil
Salt to taste
2 cups of Ziti (or Penne Lisce) type pasta

Tip: This recipe requires extremely long cooking time, the longer you stew, the softer the meat will be and tastier the sauce.

Dice the carrot and celery and place in the pot with the oil and the meats. Thinly slice the onion holding a chunk of bread in your mouth to avoid tears and add it to the other ingredients.

Cover and simmer over vivacious heat until the onions are translucent and all liquid evaporates. When the onion mash starts to dry, pour the first glass of wine and lower the heat to extremely low. Stir occasionally and stew for 50 minutes.

Then add the second glass of wine, salt and pepper to taste, and keep braising for 2 hours, being extra careful that the sauce doesn’t stick to the pot floor. The result should be a thick, dark velvety purée and a tender meat stew.

This heavenly pasta sauce marries boiled al dente Ziti pasta, broken into 3-inch pieces, richly dressed and generously dusted with grated Parmigiano.

You can serve the stewed meat–or what's left of it after the long cooking–as your dinner entrée, alongside a fresh arugula and shaved fresh fennel salad. But remember, the star dish in the meal is the genovese.

Serves 5/6 big eaters.

Pasta e zucca recipe

Pasta e Zucca is one of the staples of the Neapolitan winter table, one of those dishes people eagerly await to come into season, and you’ll see how it can grow on you, especially when made with sweet squash or flavorful pumpkins. It is after all––aside from comforting and delicious––also a healthy, easy and very quickly prepared dish. Commonly the large pumpkins found around here are sort of tasteless, but if I find zucca mantovana... The recipe is a sure success.

Ingredients for 4

500 g (1.1 lb) spaghetti, broken into 2-inch bits*
4 kg (4.4 lbs) zucca mantovana, acorn squash, butternut or other
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 large garlic cloves, smashed
Pinch of rosemary needles
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
Parmigiano, grated
Salt

Stand-by boiling hot water

*other soup pastas work well for this dish, like for example pasta mista, tubetti, ditali, ditalini, farfalline etc.

Cut the pumpkin into wedges, discard the seeds. Place wedges in a single layer in an oven pan lined with parchment paper. Drizzle with olive oil and scatter the garlic and rosemary needles. Roast at 180 C fior 20 minutes.
Discard the garlic, its chore is done. Scrape the soft pulp to remove the skins and set aside.

Boil 5-6 cups of hot salted water. Stir in the broken pasta, cooking until al dente. While the pasta cooks, taste for salt and correct if necessary. In the last 5 minutes, add the pumpkin pulp, tweaking the consistency. If desired, adding more water. It can be soupy, thick or almost dry, depending on your taste.

Stir in more pepper flakes if necessary, and serve hot. Pass the Parmigiano and watch the smiles surface.

Zucchine alla scapece recipe

This recipe of Spanish origin (escabeche––the term that Neapolitans under Spanish domination in the 18th century twisted into scapece––means 'pickle' in standard Castilian) is one of Napoli's signature vegetable dishes. These zingy zucchini, known in Rome's Jewish quarter as concia, are commonly served as antipasto or as a side dish. Ideal along side grilled meats, zucchine alla scapece's primary characteristic is the mint-scented vinegar marinade they are steeped in.

I like to pair mine with fresh mozzarella di bufala and lots of warm crusty bread.

500 g (1.1 lb) fresh zucchine (preferably the ribbed "Romanesche" variety)
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup white wine vinegar
Extra virgin olive oil
1 sprig fresh mint
A bunch of fresh basil
Peperoncino flakes (optional)
Salt
Vegetable oil for frying

Soak the zucchine in water and baking soda to rid them of any chemicals or field dirt. Rinse well several times and pat dry. Thinly slice in discs and fry them in abundant oil in small batches, so that the oil doesn’t cool down.

As they begin to darken while frying, fish them out with a slotted spoon and place them in a bowl without blotting away the grease.

Marinade the fried zucchini in olive oil, vinegar, garlic and herbs directly in the serving bowl.

Season to taste and let the marinade sit overnight. It is common Neapolitan (and Spanish) knowledge that the zucchini benefit of the intensity of the 'scapece flavor in direct proportion to how long they steep in the marinade.

Pastiera recipe

Pastiera is the quintessential Neapolitan Easter cake.

Legend has it that pastiera was invented in a Neapolitan convent. An unidentified novice wanted her Easter cake to be a symbol of the Resurrection, and to be redolent of the spring flowers growing in the convent’s orange grove.

So she mixed a handful of wheat grains (abundance) to some mild ricotta cheese (sustenance), added some eggs (symbol of new life), some orange-fragranced water, citron and a mix of aromatic Asian spices.

The ingredients used in making Pastiera closely, suggest a more pagan spring-welcoming Dionysian type ceremony rather than an enlightened nun’s experiment: wheat kernels, goat milk’s cheese, floral water, eggs, spices and candied fruit? I say definitely mundane.

Be that as it may, Pastiera is commonly consumed during Italian Easter festivities, an intensely religious moment of the calendar.

The name "pastiera" appears to come from the consolidated habit of using cooked pasta instead of buckwheat; there are still some who make pastiera using spaghetti and angel hair.

There are two different ways of preparing Pastiera: in an older method, the ricotta was mixed with the eggs; in the newer version, a thick pastry cream mixture is added, resulting in a softer amalgam. This recipe innovation was introduced by Signor Giovanni Scaturchio, a Neapolitan genius confectioner whose little shop of miracles still occupies a corner in Piazza San Domenico Maggiore.

A deli in Rome sells these mini 3.5 oz pastierine from Napoli's Scaturchio, and when I got one as a present the other day I squealed with delight. They are the best.

Here's the orignal recipe, handed down by a 100% true Neapolitan. Complex and time consuming, but oh, so worth it.

Ingredients for the shortbread/shortcrust pastry shell:

3 yolks
500 g (2 1/2 cups) all purpose flour
200 g (1 cup) sugar
200 g (1 cup) lard (cough) or butter

Ingredients for the filling:

700 g (3 1/2 cups) sheep's milk ricotta
400 g (2 cups) cooked buckwheat (can be substituted with pearl barley soaked overnight and boiled for 30 minutes; or round rice boiled for 20 minutes)
400 g (2 cups) sugar
1 lemon
1 heaped tbsp. candied citron fruit, cubed
1 heaped tbsp. candied orange, cubed
1 heaped tbsp. candied pumpkin (locally called "cucuzzata") last 3 items can be substituted by assorted candied fruits
100 ml (1/2 cup) milk
30 g (1 oz) butter
5 eggs + 2 yolks
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 tbsp. orange blossom water (if you can't find it, use the zest of 1 orange)
A pinch of powdered cinnamon

If you were unable to find cooked and canned buckwheat, you'll have to cook the raw kind, or substitute it with the other grains and cooking procedures mentioned above.

Soak the raw buckwheat in water. Drain and rinse well under running water before cooking in plenty cold unsalted water. When the water boils, reduce the heat and cook at a gentle simmer for 90 minutes undisturbed (no stirring).

In the meantime, if you decide not to use prepackaged and frozen pastry dough, combine flour sugar and softened butter in a mixing bowl. Drop in the yolks one at a time, and work into an even dough. Otherwise thaw the frozen pastry.

When the ingredients are well mixed, work the dough by quickly folding it over a few times. Beware: the more you work shortbread the less it will be soft and supple!

Let the dough rest 30 minutes, covered by a damp kitchen towel.

Mix the cooked buckwheat, milk, butter and the zest of 1 lemon in a saucepan, and cook over medium heat for 10 minutes. Stir often, and cook until the mixture is quite creamy.

Whip the ricotta in the blender with the eggs and yolks, the sugar, vanillin, floral water and cinnamon. Once this is well blended and fluffy, fold in the candied fruits and cooked buckwheat mix, and stir until fully blended.

If you are using the frozen shortcrust pastry dough, once it is thawed soft, unroll it. Now whether packaged or homemade, the dough needs to be flattened. Use a rolling pin and work the dough to 1/4 of an inch in thickness. Line a 9-inch buttered pie shell with the pastry. With the excess dough cuttings, you can make some lattice strips for decoration.

Pour the filling mixture in the prepared pie shell, fold the brim inwards and decorate the top part with the strips of extra dough. Brush the criss cross lattice with egg yolk or melted butter mixed with sugar if you like. This will make it shine.

Bake in the oven at 180° C (350° F) for 90 minutes, or until amber in color.

Let the cake cool completely and dust it with icing sugar before serving.

It's hard work, I know.
Pastiera is best cooked a few days in advance, in order to allow the fragrances to mix properly and result in that unique flavor, but I never manage to resist more than a few hours.

A mouthful of pastiera, followed by a sip of dry red wine is known to bring springtime in your mouth, la Primavera in bocca.

Buona Pasqua!