Passatelli in Brodo

Passatelli belongs to Romagna the way tortellini belongs to Bologna. This is my homeland's contribution to the great tradition of pasta in brodo, though calling passatelli pasta is imprecise. They contain no flour. The structure comes entirely from breadcrumbs and Parmigiano-Reggiano bound with egg, pushed through a special iron with holes the size of thick spaghetti.

The result is something that exists nowhere else in Italian cooking. Not a dumpling, which would be dense. Not a pasta, which would require gluten. Passatelli have a texture I can only describe as yielding: they give way under your teeth, releasing the concentrated flavor of aged cheese into the broth that surrounds them.

Every family in Pesaro, in Rimini, in Cesenatico where I was born, has their own iron passed down through generations. Some add a little bone marrow to the dough. Some insist on lemon zest; others consider it heresy. These arguments have continued for centuries and will continue long after we are gone. What no one argues is that the broth must be homemade and the cheese must be real Parmigiano-Reggiano, aged at least 24 months. Without these, you have not made passatelli. You have made something else.