Watching any pasta shape being extruded, be that through a small domestic machine or a vast industrial one, is hypnotic. Short shapes are particularly mesmerising, because the dough – made from durum wheat flour and water – emerges at speed from the bronze or Teflon-coated die, and is then chopped to size by a rotating blade. And then there are fusilli, whose helix form is created by an ingenious die that was invented and perfected in the early 1900s. Fusilli twist their way into being, the Syd Barrett of pasta shapes, emerging from the die in a psychedelic spiral.
The fusilli shape is an old one. In her Encyclopaedia of Pasta, Oretta Zanini De Vita traces the shape back to the fruitful Arab domination of Sicily and Sardinia, and the forming of the pasta by twisting dough around a thin reed known as a bus. The habit travelled and De Vita notes that fusillo became a southern Italian dialect term for any pasta made by wrapping or pressing dough around or into a ferretto, a thin metal rod with tapered ends, known as a fuso. As you can probably imagine, shaping pasta around a slender rod (or, alternatively, a knitting needle, bicycle wheel spoke or umbrella rib) and sliding it off makes for a particular form, sometimes like scroll of paper, at others canoes or even loose ringlets, all of which are still found in southern Italy. The industrial form, meanwhile, which took decades to perfect, is a helix or spiral and has since travelled all over the world. As with all pasta, the quality of the durum wheat used, and the way it’s extruded (through bronze, which gives texture) and dried (steadily, and with great attention) has a huge effect on the taste.
The psychedelia continues at all stages: as the fusilli falls from the bag and into the water, as it rolls around in the pan and as the spirals meet the sauce. Which brings us to the other thing about fusilli and their twisted cousins eliche, radiatori, rotini and gigli: they have an exceptional ability to trap, their gill-like edges designed to catch whatever they are offered, whether that’s butter and grated cheese, a ragu of some kind – or a dish we are enjoying at least once a week at the moment: fusilli with leek, potato, parmesan and toasted hazelnuts.
This is another pasta dish that illustrates the potato principle, in which a medium-sized peeled and diced potato is fundamental. Given a head start and then cooked alongside the pasta, the potato collapses a bit and its starchy softness functions as a sort of glue that brings the dish together. The leek also needs to be cooked in butter and olive oil until it is soft and easily caught by the pasta.
Topping the dish with a few toasted, roughly chopped hazelnuts is optional, but highly recommended, because they contrast so well with the soft leek and potato sauce. The fusilli, friendly as well as hypnotic and psychedelic, are more than happy to pick them up, too.
Fusilli with leek, potato, parmesan and hazelnuts
Prep 15 min
Cook 20 min
Serves 4
Salt
1 medium potato, peeled and diced small
400-500g short pasta – fusilli, radiatori or rotini
1 large leek, split, washed and cut into thin half-moons
3 tbsp olive oil
20g butter, plus extra to finish
A handful of grated parmesan or grana padano, plus extra for serving
A handful of roughly chopped toasted hazelnuts
Heat a large pan of water. Once it boils, add salt, stir and add the potato. After a couple of minutes, add the pasta and set the timer according to packet cooking instructions. While the pasta cooks, saute the leek and a pinch of salt in the oil and butter, until very soft.
Once the pasta is cooked and the potato is soft and collapsing, use a spider sieve to lift both into the leek pan and toss everything well. Add the cheese, freshly ground black pepper and another knob of butter and toss again. Serve topped with the chopped hazelnuts and more cheese, if you want.
