Ciceri e Tria
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Shockingly simple. Unbelievably delicious.
by Erin Henderson
I’m a soup fan.
I eat soup in the blazing heat of summer. I eat it in the frigid depths of winter. I eat soup for breakfast (much to the confusion and consternation of my nephew). I eat it for dinner. Before this turns into a Dr. Seuss rhyme, let’s just leave it at: I am fully dedicated to soup.
Last year I was taking (yet another) pasta class. This is where I was introduced to ciceri e tria a rustic, “cucina povera” soup that translates to fried pasta with chickpeas.
Made from basic semolina flour, dried chickpeas, and the broth the chickpeas are cooked in, admittedly this seems weird to North American palates. But trust me, you want this in your life. And your belly.
I’ve long championed the liquid gold that is chickpea (or any dried bean) stock. Something truly magical happens when you add a handful of aromatics, a healthy splash of olive oil, and a few simple spices to the bean water. Sometimes I make dried beans just for the stock it produces.
Ciceri e tria became my validation and rallying cry: it not only calls for the soaked chickpeas, but also the braising liquid. Mix some warm water with durum wheat flour for your pasta, and this bare-bones recipe blossoms into a far greater sum than the parts might suggest.
You can make the chickpeas and broth well in advance (I usually make a batch every week and keep in my fridge for all kinds of uses) which cuts down on the overall time of this recipe enormously.
A note on frying in olive oil: it’s a luxury, but a delicious one. Don’t skip it.
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Ciceri e Tria
For the Tria Pasta:
- 200g warm water (more or less as needed)
- ½ tsp salt
- 400g semolina flour
- Melt the salt into the warm water.
- Mound the semolina into a volcano on a large wooden board.
- Working in batches, gently pour the salted water, a little at a time, into the flour using a fork or your fingers to bring it together until you have a soft, pliable dough* that is not sticky.
- *Depending on the season and the humidity, you may need to add water or flour to have the dough come together as it should. Do this a little at a time – you can always add, but not take away.
- Knead the dough into a ball, and cover with plastic wrap and let rest for 30 minutes.
- Roll the dough into a sheet that’s 3mm thick. Allow to dry slightly for about 10 minutes.
- Slice the dough into 5cm long strips that are 2cm wide.
- Line a baking tray with parchment paper and lightly flour it.
- Place pasta strips on the tray until ready to cook.
For the Soup:
- 1 cup chickpeas
- 1 litre chickpea broth (both chickpeas and broth can be found in this recipe)
- 1 cup olive oil
- 1 recipe for the tria
- In a medium, deep pot, heat the olive oil until hot enough to fry (you can test its readiness by dipping the end of a piece of pasta in the oil and seeing if it boils).
- When ready, add about 1/3 of the tria pasta (do this in batches so the olive oil retains its heat), flipping over after a minute so both sides get tanned and crispy. Remove with a slotted spoon to a paper-towel lined plate and sprinkle lightly with salt. (If you're feeling extra, a sprinkling of diced rosemary would be nice, too.)
- Meanwhile, in a large soup pot add the chickpea stock and chickpeas and bring to a boil, once boiling reduce heat to medium to simmer.
- Add about 1/3 of the fresh tria pasta, cooking until soft, about 5 minutes.
- Adjust the seasoning for salt and pepper (if you’ve done the chickpea stock right, you probably don’t need any more seasoning) and serve, topped with fried tria strips and a drizzle of the frying oil.
Nota Bene:
It’s not traditional, so don’t tell the Italians, but I sometimes add a handful of frozen kale or spinach to the cooking soup. I also sometimes top the soup with a grating of Parmesan and a few Calabrian peppers. Sshhhh.
Wine Pairing
Ciceri e tria hails from Salento at the very tip of Puglia. About 50 different grapes are grown in this area and turned into all wine styles, but the most famous is the deeply red and full bodied wines made from Primitivo and Negroamaro.
Looking at the simplicity of this soup, I’m more inclined to go to with one of the local whites. Fiano, a rich white with a waxy mouthfeel and flavours of melon, citrus, and hazelnut would be a terrific match. If finding Fiano proves difficult in your area, an easy-going Chardonnay without too much oak would be lovely, too.