While Piedmontese pasta makers might boast about doughs packed with forty yolks per kilo—we get it, you’re rich!—Rome takes a more pragmatic approach. This is a city where pasta tradition leans humble and efficient, not decadent and baroque. Roman egg pasta dough usually calls for just one yolk or one whole egg per 100 grams of flour. It’s a formula built on frugality and function, and it works.

Eggs, of course, aren’t unique to Roman pasta. They’re fundamental across much of Italy, but they’re used differently here. In Emilia-Romagna, for example, yolk-rich doughs create silky ribbons of tagliatelle or delicate pouches of tortellini. Rome’s fresh pastas are sturdier. Think Tonnarelli with their squared-off edges, built to withstand a clingy shower of cacio e pepe. Or Fettuccine , a Sunday favorite cut from hand-rolled sheets. By contrast, Gnocchi di Patate , when done well, are pillowy and ethereal, earning their place at the Roman table each and every Thursday.

The egg yolks themselves tell a story. In some Roman homes and pastifici (fresh pasta shops), you’ll find doughs tinged pale yellow; in others, a deeper marigold hue. That spectrum has everything to do with what the hens ate: grain makes for lighter yolks, while carotenoid-rich diets (think corn, grass, and marigolds) produce eggs that practically glow. Some farms supplement the grain-based feed to fake the deep orange hue of a natural diet.

Roman doughs may not have the over-the-top richness of their northern cousins, but they’re resilient, satisfying, and built to carry the bold, savory, and peppery sauces that Romans love. In the recipes that follow, we’ll make these doughs from scratch—rolled by hand, or by machine—and shape them into the fresh pasta classics that help define Rome’s daily and festive tables alike.