Maccarruni Pasta with ’Nduja, Tomato Sauce, and Pecorino — a Calabrian Recipe – Flavoria

Inspired by Grandma Elvira

There are flavors that choose us when we are young. While my passion for intense heat is a legacy from my father, who could always happily munch on Calabrian chili peppers as if they were breadsticks, the true sanctity of the table belongs to Nonna Elvira. For her, that specific handmade pasta—which she never called by the common name maccarruni in the small village in the province of Cosenza where she came from, but rather by the affectionate dialect term foerzuli—was the ultimate symbol of Sunday lunch.
I vividly remember her two large bowls set out in the middle of the room: one filled with pasta dressed in ricotta, the other with Parmesan—not to mention the times Pecorino made an appearance. Although I didn’t speak the Cosenza dialect, I understood it perfectly, just as I understood the universal language of that Sunday ritual where the whole family would gather around her kitchen.

Recreating these maccarruni today—with a rich, coating tomato sauce and the unmistakable kick of ‘Nduja—instantly evokes that festive atmosphere, even when prepared for a simple Saturday dinner. It is pure joy: the visceral feeling of belonging to a family that gave me unforgettable days, weaving together the common thread of our Calabrian roots.

It is the dawn of a Sunday, seventy years ago. Outside, the crisp air of the Sila mountains or the salty coastal breeze slips through the slats of the shutters, but inside the kitchen, the heart of it all is already alive. There is a faint scent of woodsmoke mingling with the aroma of goat or pork ragù, which has been simmering incredibly slowly for hours in a terracotta pot—the vrasciara.
A solid wood table, bare and unadorned, dominates the center of the room. Before her, a grandmother has nothing but a small mound of finely ground durum wheat semolina, some white flour, and a pitcher of warm water. No eggs are needed; the traditional recipe demands only the purity of the grain and the strength of one’s arms.

With precise movements repeated over generations, she hollows out a well in the flour and begins to pour in the water. Her hands, weathered by time, start to knead the dough. First with her fingertips, then with her palms, she pushes with the full weight of her body until that rough mixture transforms into a smooth, elastic, and firm ball of dough. After letting the dough rest under a damp linen cloth, the time comes for the ritual itself. Grandmother breaks off a piece of dough and rolls it between her palms, creating long, thin cylinders—roughly the thickness of a pencil. She then cuts them into lengths of about a hand’s breadth. Beside the pastry board lies the sacred tool: u ferru. In the past, a dried rush stalk (guttuma) or a sprig of broomcorn was used, but in twentieth-century kitchens, it is typically a slender knitting needle—often pilfered from a knitting basket—or an old bicycle spoke, filed and polished until it gleams.

Grandmother places the rod lengthwise over the cylinder of dough. With the palm of her right hand, she applies gentle pressure while imparting a firm back-and-forth motion. It is a hypnotic movement: the dough wraps around the metal, stretching and hollowing out. Then, with a quick, light flick of her thumb and index finger, she slides the maccarrune off.
A perfect, hollow channel remains at the center of the pasta, ready to capture and hold onto the richest, heartiest sauces. The maccarruni are laid out one by one on a large, floured cloth—sometimes left to dry—ready for cooking.

Skill Level: Easy | Prep Time: 50 mins | Cook Time: 40 mins (5 minutes for the pasta + 35 for the tomato and ‘nduja sauce) | Servings: 6

Ingredients:

For the Fresh Maccarruni Pasta:

Scant 2 ½ cups (400 g) re-milled durum wheat semolina flour
3 ¼ cups (400 g) all-purpose flour
1 ¾ cups (400 ml) lukewarm water
A pinch of salt

For the Tomato & ‘Nduja Sauce:

3 ⅓ cups (800 ml) rustic tomato puree
½ red onion, finely chopped
1 tbsp (15 ml) premium extra virgin olive oil
1–1 ½ tsp (5 g–8 g) Calabrian ‘Nduja
1 tsp (5 g) dried oregano

For the Cheese Topping:

1 cup (100 g) Pecorino Romano cheese, freshly grated

🌿 Dietary & Allergen Notes: This dish contains Gluten (from the durum wheat semolina and all-purpose flour), Dairy (from the Pecorino Romano cheese), and Pork (from the ‘Nduja). It is not suitable for vegans or vegetarians unless substituted.

The Method

Making & Shaping The Pasta

Create the dough well: On a clean work surface or inside a large bowl, combine both flours and a pinch of salt. Shape the mixture into a mound and make a large well in the center (as shown in the photo below).
Knead the dough: Gradually pour lukewarm water into the center, working it into the flour with your hands from the inside out. Knead continuously until you get a smooth, elastic dough. Add a tiny splash of water only if the dough feels too firm.
Rest the dough: Form the dough into a ball, cover with a clean kitchen towel, and let it rest for 30 minutes.
Cut into strips: After resting, divide the dough. You can either pinch off small individual pieces grandma-style, or divide the dough into three equal parts, roll them out with a rolling pin, and use a pastry wheel to cut long strips.
Shape the maccarruni (The Skewer Technique): Take each dough strip and lightly roll it between your hands to form a thick cord. Place a long wooden skewer (like the ones used for skewers/kebabs) right across the center of the cord. Press down gently to wrap the dough around the skewer, then roll/slide it back and forth against the work surface using light pressure to hollow out the center.
Air-dry the pasta: Gently slide the shaped maccarruni off the skewer (ensuring they are well-dusted with flour beforehand so they don’t stick). Lay them out in a single layer, well-spaced, dust with a little extra flour, and let them dry slightly for 20 to 25 minutes.

Simmering The Sauce

Sauté aromatics and ‘Nduja: Heat the extra virgin olive oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat. Sauté the finely chopped red onion along with the Calabrian ‘Nduja until the onion softens and the rich, spicy aroma of the ‘Nduja is fully released.
Simmer the tomato puree: Pour in the rustic tomato puree, stir well with a wooden spoon, cover with a lid, and reduce the heat to the lowest setting. Simmer gently for at least 35 minutes (remember: the longer a tomato sauce cooks, the richer it becomes).
Add oregano: Just before turning off the heat, stir in the dried oregano and mix thoroughly.

Cooking & Assembly

Boil the pasta: Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil, add two teaspoons of coarse sea salt, and drop in the homemade maccarruni. Stir gently with kitchen tongs. They will cook in about 5 minutes and will rise to the surface when ready to drain.
Toss and dress: Transfer the drained pasta directly into the skillet with the hot ‘Nduja and tomato sauce. Toss well over heat to coat every piece.
Add cheese and serve: Turn off the heat, add the freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese, toss one final time to create a creamy finish, plate immediately, and serve hot.

Behind the Scenes: Keeping the Tradition Alive

Kneading this maccarruni pasta and melting the ‘Nduja into the tomato soffritto took me back to those festive Sundays when Nonna Elvira’s kitchen was the beating heart of the family. While she cooked, my cousin and I gave her no peace. Even though I chose to make this dish on a quiet Saturday evening, the enveloping aroma that filled the house preserved the magic of those lunches, and her two large bowls heaped with pasta, perfectly intact. It is the small gestures of the past, like rolling the pasta around a skewer, that keep us inextricably bound to memories of childhood Sundays from so long ago.

The authentic flavors of our childhood do not need maps to find us; they always know the way home. Enjoy!