Simple, Elegant Fresh Pasta with Zucchini, Pancetta, Peas and Basil

Fresh scialatielli deserves to be honoured with the finest ingredients, and less is more. I love combining a trio of peas, zucchini, pancetta with a little fresh basil, lemon, olive oil and a sprinkle of parmigiana. It tastes like the Amalfi Coast just kissed you on the cheek.

It’s traditionally made with garlic, but I believe that ruins the kiss. You want garlic? That’s for other dishes. This one? She’s elegant. She doesn’t shout. She whispers. Like a beautiful woman walking into the room wearing a perfume of basil and olive oil.

Here’s the Backstory on Scialatelli

It comes from scialare (to enjoy) and tiella (pan), so basically it means “little party in the pan.” Created in the 1970s by a clever chef in Amalfi — Enrico Cosentino, salute! — and now we all act like it’s been around since the Roman Empire.

It’s short, a bit thick, with a soft bite. You cut it fresh, by hand, no machines. Like trofie from Liguria — yes, the ones you eat with pesto — scialatielli is a pasta that grabs the sauce and doesn’t let go. One is rolled, the other sliced, but both know how to hug a good condiment.

Trofie is the cousin from the north. Elegant. Green. Always with the pine nuts. Scialatielli? He’s from the south. Louder. Sun-kissed. Maybe a little salty. You get the idea.

My Recipe: Scialatielli with Zucchini, Peas, Basil & Pancetta

(And No Garlic, i don’t care what you think)

Ingredients (for 2 people)

• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 100g pancetta, cubed (or prosciutto cotto if you’re being polite)
• 2 small zucchini, sliced thin (don’t be lazy, use the knife)
• 150g peas, fresh or frozen
• 350g fresh scialatielli
• A bunch of fresh basil, torn with your hands, not a knife
• Grated Parmigiano or Pecorino Romano, depending on how salty you feel
• Salt and pepper, quanto basta

How to Make It As An Italian

Step 1: Get your veg ready.

Slice your zucchini thin. Shell your peas if they’re fresh. If they’re frozen, pretend you shelled them and move on.

Step 2: Boil the pasta water.

Salt it like the sea. No measuring spoons. Just feel it in your soul.

Step 3: Fry the pancetta.

Heat the olive oil in a big pan. Toss in the pancetta. Let it go golden and crispy but not burnt. This is your flavor base — don’t rush it.

Step 4: In go the veggies.

Zucchini first. Cook 4–5 minutes until soft but still green. Then the peas. Salt, pepper, a smile. Stir gently. Respect the vegetables.

Step 5: Pasta time.

Cook the scialatielli. If it’s fresh, it cooks fast — like 6–8 minutes. Don’t walk away. No checking your phone. This is sacred time.

Step 6: Toss it all.

Drain the pasta but save a ladle of water. Into the pan it goes with the veggies. Add a splash of the water and toss like you mean it. Now we’re talking.

Step 7: Finish like a professional.

Off the heat. Basil in. Cheese on. Toss again. Plate it. More cheese. Maybe a drizzle of oil if you’re feeling sexy.

Optional but Delicious

• A spoon of fresh ricotta at the end? Si. Creamy magic.
• A bit of lemon zest? Even better. Amalfi style. Makes it sing.
• No pancetta? Go vegetarian. Add some toasted pine nuts or a tear of mozzarella. Still great.

What to Drink? You Even Have to Ask?

Pour a chilled glass of Falanghina or Greco di Tufo. They are local white wines from Campania. Crisp, clean, and they make everything taste like you’re sitting on a terrace with a view of Vesuvius.

When you prepare this dish yourself, don’t forget: eat with company, drink with joy, and always save a little fresh basil and a sprinkle of cheese for the top.