Dish in Focus: Pasta mista at Dieci

Walk into almost any Italian restaurant in Hong Kong and you will find the same greatest hits: burrata, carbonara and tiramisu. You probably won’t find pasta scraps – except at Dieci, the newly opened pasta concept on Gough Street where executive chef and founder Paolo Olivieri has made them his signature. Olivieri grew up in Villa San Giovanni in Tuscia, a small village in Lazio, in central Italy, nestled among rolling hills and farmland. His grandparents were farmers. “I grew up in my grandmother’s garden – chicken and rabbit, vegetables, the cycle of the seasons,” he says. “Compared to French cuisine, which is very technical, Italian is more ingredient driven and seasonal.” That philosophy is why Dieci, which Olivieri describes as an osteria futura (future tavern), changes 40 to 50 per cent of its menu every month, depending on what is seasonal and what the catch brings in. Pasta mista is the one constant. “It became an instant signature,” Olivieri says. “It’s the most photographed and talked-about dish, a status that came naturally from customer feedback.” To understand why, one must understand the history Olivieri is bringing to the table. “The concept of pasta mista – [meaning] ‘mixed pasta’ – is born from cucina povera: the cooking of the poor,” he explains. As Olivieri tells it, the dish has two distinct Neapolitan origin stories. The first is commercial: pasta shops in Campania would sell the broken leftovers and scraps from their daily production by weight on the street. The second is domestic. “It’s about a mother at home on a Sunday, mixing together all the leftover pasta shapes from the pantry to create a meal with potato and provola cheese,” he says. “It was about survival and making something from nothing.” While mixing fusilli, lumachine, casarecce, reginette, macaroni and broken spaghetti might sound sacrilegious, Olivieri insists it is the secret to the dish. “A 13-minute cook time results in different levels of ‘bite’ in every mouthful. That is the beauty of it.” For him, the bigger misconception is Hong Kong’s obsession with fresh pasta. “That’s a northern Italian idea,” he says. In the north, where the climate is colder and the region historically wealthier, fresh pasta made with eggs was a luxury – a way to make a meal more substantial. In the south, survival was the priority. Pasta was made from just water and semolina flour, shaped with a traditional bronze-die and dried under the hot sun. His version of the dish uses a pasta mista from Gentile, a producer from Gragnano near Naples that has used IGP-protected methods since 1876. He chose this specific brand for the “flavour of the wheat” and the superior bite provided by traditional copper-cut dies. Though the pasta is Italian, the dish is anchored by Hong Kong’s shores. “European seafood is good but far away. We are on an island, yet local seafood is under-represented in Western cuisine here,” he explains. He works with Peter Seafood at the Aberdeen market to source live prawns daily – kuruma, white, brown or school prawns, depending on the season and what the catch brings in. The prawns are torched until half-cooked and arranged on top of the pasta. Below them, the pasta is dressed in a sauce of sweet Datterino (“little date”) tomatoes – delivered fresh from southern Italy every Tuesday – and a rich bisque reduced from roasted local prawn heads and vegetables. The dish is then topped with roasted breadcrumbs. “In the south, breadcrumbs are the cheese of the poor,” Olivieri says. “At Dieci, we honour that tradition by toasting them with garlic, olive oil and rosemary. It tastes almost like a focaccia crumble.” While he admits that broken spaghetti is acceptable in certain contexts, he offers one firm rule: don’t mix seafood and cheese. And honestly, you won’t miss it – the breadcrumbs soak up the sauce in a way cheese never could, making every bite more flavourful. The plating is simple, rustic and meant to be shared. It is a reinterpretation of a peasant dish, done respectfully for a discerning Hong Kong palate. In a city where Italian restaurants compete on the same greatest hits, this is a dish that gives southern traditions their long-overdue airtime. Hanna Lee, Dieci’s restaurant manager and Olivieri’s wife, handles the wine pairings. She recommends a full-bodied Chardonnay with good acidity to cleanse the palate. Bramito della Sala from Umbria is her top pick. Olivieri chimes in with his non-alcoholic recommendation: Galvanina Limonata Biologica, an organic lemonade from Italy, served with ice and lemon. Asked if he will make any changes to his pasta mista, Olivieri shares that he has considered making it slightly spicy, as they do in southern Italy. “Kimchi! I always tell him we should add kimchi to the dish,” Lee quips. “That’ll be an off-menu [option],” laughs Olivieri. “But if you ask nicely, I can make you a spicy version.” Anatomy of a Dish Name: Pasta mista Restaurant: Dieci Price: HK$238 Main ingredients: A pasta mista blend from Gentile, live local prawns sourced daily from Aberdeen market, sweet Datterino tomatoes, reduced bisque from roasted prawn heads and vegetables, and roasted breadcrumbs with garlic, olive oil and rosemary Flavours: The dish balances the bite of the pasta with the sweet richness of the tomatoes, concentrated prawn umami, and the savoury crunch of garlic-and-rosemary breadcrumbs, with each mouthful shifting slightly depending on the pasta shape. Presentation: A rustic, shareable plate of mixed pasta shapes topped with half-torched prawns, finished with tomato-bisque sauce and a generous scattering of toasted breadcrumbs

Dish in Focus: Pasta mista at Dieci

.css-1c6uqr6{color:inherit;font-weight:inherit;font-size:inherit;font-family:inherit;line-height:inherit;overflow-wrap:break-word;}At Dieci, chef Paolo Olivieri turns a peasant dish from Italy into an elevated favourite, mixing fusilli, casarecce, broken spaghetti and more

At Dieci, chef Paolo Olivieri turns a peasant dish from Italy into an elevated favourite, mixing fusilli, casarecce, broken spaghetti and more