But then I found a product that changed my mind. I recently became a customer of Provvista, a Portland-based wholesaler of unique and wonderful foods. As my sales person was ushering me around my warehouse tour, he tossed a packet of pasta my way. I looked through the crunchy cellophane at a bunch of dried noodles, looking like every other pack of noodles I’ve seen. “What’s so special about these,” ask asked. “Try them,” my sales person smiled. “Then tell me what you think.” Noticing the brand, Rustichella, I shrug, tucking them under my arm as we finish the rest of the tour.

About a week later, I found myself rummaging through my cabinets in search of a quick lunch. I go to the store about ever other day, but never for myself – always for my clients. Not really finding anything that peaked my interest, I pulled out the dried noodles and pondered. Why not, I thought to myself. I can at least give them a try.

In a word, they were fabulous. Just a simple ingredient list of Durham flour, eggs and salt – that’s it! After three minutes in boiling, salted water, the noodles were perfectly cooked with a nice toothy bite. All they needed was a bit of extra virgin olive oil and some truffle salt. I savored every bite and vowed to email my salesperson to thank him for the recommendation.

For my next Provvista order, I happily ordered half a case and asked my sales person to thrown in one of the lemon-flavored fettuccine packages as well. Eating the lemon version with smoked salmon, a little cream, a hint of butter, copious amounts of grated Parmesan, and some chopped parsley thrown in for color made my toes curl in sheer bliss. My neighbors who were helping me enjoy the pasta made me promise to order another case right away.

While online the other day, I discovered Rustichelle also makes cavatelli, chestnut tagliatelle, egg pappardelle, gnocchette, lasagne, porcini fettuccini, and even saffron fettuccini. My mouth waters thinking about the possibilities. I have seen Rustichelle sold at both New Seasons and Zupans, but if you can’t find what you’re looking for, drop me a line and I’ll include you in my next order.

A client recently requested a vegetarian dinner. I immediately proposed the Rustichelle egg fettuccine with organic tomato sauce and roasted eggplant. As my clients are avid fresh pasta fans, I was eager for them to taste my find. Upon first bite, they both smiled and agreed it was good. “But mine is better,” quipped my client. At first I was surprised. Here I thought I just found the best pasta in the world. How could there be something better?

Later after dinner, I asked my client how he made his pasta and what made it better. “Come find out,” he says. So a couple days later, I arrive for my pasta lesson, bottle of The Pines Old Vine Zinfandel and fresh chanterelles in hand. In the warm confines of the kitchen, my sprightly 80-year-old client teaches me a technique he learned while passing through Italy. On the counter, he dumps out plain old flour. He makes a well in the middle and cracks in whole eggs. Then using a fork and his fingers, he gently combines the egg with the flour until he has a very shaggy mass – a far cry from any dough I’ve ever seen. Without kneading it like I would normally do, he separates the mass into individual portions and starts pushing them through the lowest setting on his pasta machine. After a couple passes, the crumbly mass miraculously forms a smooth sheet of pasta. Dipping it occasionally in flour to prevent sticking, the dough starts to resemble something I actually recognize. Once he’s satisfied with the texture, he passes each sheet through the rollers, raising the machine’s number with each pass.

He works remarkable fast, much faster than me, to prevent the sheets from drying too much. As he rolls the dough thinner and thinner, if it’s too dry, it can tare. He rolls each sheet through the number 7 setting on the pasta machine. When he lifts the four-foot sheet in his hand, I can almost see through it. We dry each sheet separately by draping it over wooden dowels. Once the sheets are dry to the touch (about 10 minutes), we roll them through the cutting blade turning them into fettuccine strands. Those too get a quick dry before dropping them into plenty of boiling, salted water.

Once cooked, the noodles resemble transparent strands of rice paper. We dress them with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, salt, pepper, and sautéed chanterelles. One bite and I’m in heaven. Where the Rustichelle has a sturdy, toothy bite, the homemade pasta is as light, delicate, and wispy. “Okay,” I agree smiling at my client. “This is pretty darn amazing.”

So I guess I don’t have to pick a favorite. I can like them both. Light and delicate sauces will be perfect with the handmade pasta while heartier sauces will be fabulous with the Rustichelle. It’s the best of both worlds. I recommend you experience them both!

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