To die for

It’s 5 a.m. on Saturday when a bleary-eyed Frank Fresina starts pouring water and semolina into the mouth of his hulking 75-year-old pasta machine. The Italian-made apparatus churns, mixes and, throughout the day, carefully extrudes fettuccine, spaghetti, capellini and more through corresponding dies. A quick snip later and the strands are draped over rods, then rolled into a humble drying room that looks a lot like an oversized closet.

For the next three days, Fresina will peek in to eyeball the contents, and by sight only, he will determine whether the graceful lengths are ready. When they’ve reached the perfect consistency, he and his wife, Linda, will gather and package them, then stock them in their adjacent shop. It’s all done by hand at Fresina’s Pasta Co., right here in the suburbs of Baton Rouge.

“It’s something I feel passionate about,” says Fresina, who bought the 80-year-old company 15 years ago from a cousin who had shut it down. “It was really worth preserving and carrying on.”

Today, Frank Fresina sells more than a dozen types of pasta, including varieties in whole wheat and spelt flours.

“All of our pastas are so delicate,” Linda says. “They cook in half the time of commercial ones.”

Today, the couple’s goal is to combine their artisan pasta with carefully selected imported Italian foodstuffs. Olive oils, balsamic vinegars, antipasti, sweets, cheeses and digestives all appear in the family’s Drusilla Place shop. “We do spur-of-the-moment tastings,” Frank says, breaking open a fruity olive oil and passing around a taste of pickled garlic. “Give this balsamic vinegar a try,” he offers. “It would be incredible on vanilla ice cream.”

The small shop also makes and sells cookies, as well as red and white sauces, all based on his mother’s recipes. “It starts with one basil leaf,” he says of the red sauce, which comes in smooth, chunky and spicy. He points to the basil and to visible chunks of fresh garlic.

“People from all over the country are placing orders.”

The Fresinas sell all of the 100,000 pounds of pasta they make annually, but they’re only interested in slow, controlled growth. “We don’t advertise,” Frank says. “It’s all word of mouth. It’s important to us to make a fine, high-quality product.”