The Orecchiette ladies of Bari

Bari isn’t on most people’s Italian bucket list. It’s not Rome with its crumbling glory, not Florence with its Renaissance architecture and definitely not Venice with its overpriced drinks at Caffè Florian. No, Bari is different. Raw and charming, in that special south Italian way.

The old part of Bari was known as “mugging town” a few decades ago. The tradition of theft seems to have started way back in 1087, as Barese sailors managed to steal the bones of St Nicholas (primordial Santa Claus) from Turkey and brought his remains to their city. The relics are still being kept in the crypt of Basilica di San Nicola, almost a millennia later.

The alleys of old Bari.

The old town, Bari Vecchia, is a beautiful gritty labyrinth where the walls whisper in dialect and life spills onto crowded alleys. It also turns out to be one of very few places in the entire Puglia where I get hassled by local salesmen. I channel my inner Aldo Raine to croak out broken Italian phrases to everyone who have the misfortune of crossing my path.

Visiting the pasta ladies.

And then there’s the pasta. I walk down the eponymous Strada delle Orecchiette, and that’s where I find them. The infamous pasta ladies are the true titans of the region, sitting outside their doorways like sentinels of dough and tradition. They are sculpting pasta with the casual grace of women who’ve done it every damn day for half a century. Their hands move like a symphony of muscle memory.

The most popular pasta variant in Puglia is called Orecchiette, named and shaped as little ears. I’ve already had several large and delicious plates of it during the past week, but who can say no to the venerable pasta ladies?

A slice of heaven – handmade Orecchiette.

They’re not chefs or influencers. They don’t care about your TripAdvisor review. They’re the matriarchs of this tight-knit quarter, the real deal, the backbone of Bari’s culinary soul. They’ll sell you a bag of fresh Orecchiette for a couple of euros, if they like you. If they don’t, you’ll get a shrug and a cloud of cigarette smoke in your face. And you’ll still feel lucky.

There’s something beautiful about how little things change here. In a world obsessed with speed and reinvention, these women are an act of resistance. Just flour, water and a lifetime of knowing exactly how much pressure to apply with a thumb. You don’t just eat Orecchiette here, you earn it.