I make the soup version with more broth when I’m sick (cold, flu) and the drier version when I’m sad or feeling blue and it always makes me feel better. I make sure I keep vegetable scraps and Parmesan rinds in the freezer to make veggie stock on demand as needed but I also like to add in a dado cube or two for extra flavor.
Pastina in my Italian-American family was always the dry variety, with butter and salt only, and especially called for during episodes of “stomach flu.” My favorite was acini di pepe, although we always had orzo on hand, too. I hardly think
of it now, but doing so brings an instant craving. For the pasta or the comfort, I’m not sure.
I loved reading this! I will definitely have to try making this, and I love the idea of putting in a Parmesan rind into the broth (I do this when making beans)!
I grew up on the stars in chicken broth for colds, or acini de pepe —which we considered the real pastina in Queens—as lunch on a rainy day “to take the chill out.” Exactly.
The echoes of “don’t go out with wet hair!” and “don’t swim on a full stomach!” Had me rolling 😂
Yes, orzo is indeed my dream noodle name here in New York. I do the dry version in a lightly sautéed garlic in olive oil and butter stirring in a watered down tomato sauce which keeps it creamy and zesty at the same time, adding fresh chopped oregano and shaved Locatelli at the end. It’s exactly like risotto with noodles and no one where I now live has ever had it before.
For me, the magic of pastina continues as an adult as the comfort food bringing people together around a fire on a cold mountain evening.
This essay is such a gift, deciphering what I could not figure out as a child—regarding the debate over stars or little pepper corn shapes as the ‘it’ noodle depending upon which borough of New York the particular aunt had grown up in. My large Italian family was separated during the Depression when a parent died. As a result part of the family calls it sauce and the other, gravy, depending which relative they went to live with. The same for whether the eggplant is floured or breaded. I’m a proud descendant of ‘sauce’ and ‘floured’, still making my grandmother’s recipes today.
The stars definitely won for babies in any family, however. And at least now I don’t feel like such a butcher breaking up extra lasagna noodles into my pasta e fagioli! You have freed me!
I love this article! It brought me right back to my youth. I felt like I was wrapped in a warm hug
I also just generally enjoy your page. As an Italian American it helps me remember the traditions from my youth.
I make the soup version with more broth when I’m sick (cold, flu) and the drier version when I’m sad or feeling blue and it always makes me feel better. I make sure I keep vegetable scraps and Parmesan rinds in the freezer to make veggie stock on demand as needed but I also like to add in a dado cube or two for extra flavor.
Pastina in my Italian-American family was always the dry variety, with butter and salt only, and especially called for during episodes of “stomach flu.” My favorite was acini di pepe, although we always had orzo on hand, too. I hardly think
of it now, but doing so brings an instant craving. For the pasta or the comfort, I’m not sure.
I loved reading this! I will definitely have to try making this, and I love the idea of putting in a Parmesan rind into the broth (I do this when making beans)!
Oh joy! A fellow risoni lover!
I grew up on the stars in chicken broth for colds, or acini de pepe —which we considered the real pastina in Queens—as lunch on a rainy day “to take the chill out.” Exactly.
The echoes of “don’t go out with wet hair!” and “don’t swim on a full stomach!” Had me rolling 😂
Yes, orzo is indeed my dream noodle name here in New York. I do the dry version in a lightly sautéed garlic in olive oil and butter stirring in a watered down tomato sauce which keeps it creamy and zesty at the same time, adding fresh chopped oregano and shaved Locatelli at the end. It’s exactly like risotto with noodles and no one where I now live has ever had it before.
For me, the magic of pastina continues as an adult as the comfort food bringing people together around a fire on a cold mountain evening.
This essay is such a gift, deciphering what I could not figure out as a child—regarding the debate over stars or little pepper corn shapes as the ‘it’ noodle depending upon which borough of New York the particular aunt had grown up in. My large Italian family was separated during the Depression when a parent died. As a result part of the family calls it sauce and the other, gravy, depending which relative they went to live with. The same for whether the eggplant is floured or breaded. I’m a proud descendant of ‘sauce’ and ‘floured’, still making my grandmother’s recipes today.
The stars definitely won for babies in any family, however. And at least now I don’t feel like such a butcher breaking up extra lasagna noodles into my pasta e fagioli! You have freed me!