Pasta Della Casa: in a desolate industrial area hides perfect Italian food (and the chefs know it too)

Moshe Barel's delicious oasis includes countless parking spaces, excellent coffee, a wide heart and an even wider hand.

Need something else?

It will yield money

30/09/2022

Friday, September 30, 2022, 08:20 Updated: 08:21

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Pasta Della Casa, Kfar Saba (Shlomi Gabai)

A polished car moves back and forth in front of the dark, shiny shop window.

Reverse-brakes-drive, reverse-brakes-drive, until the driver gives up, stops in the middle of the deserted road, brings back to life an action that we didn't think we would have to do for a long time, certainly not to see it from the side so directly, and asks while shyly rolling down the window - "Do you have any coffee? ".

Hard to blame him.

We are standing at the entrance to what is probably the only place that is currently pulsating in the new industrial area of ​​Kfar Saba.

Every other storefront - no matter how shiny - in the area has deceived him until now with an attractive appearance and apparent signs of life, only to turn out in the end to be another construction site that will have something in the future.

Hell, a minute from here the brightest yellow roof in the country went up for him, and even he is silent for now.

All this, together with clock hands already looking back at ten in the morning, led to the driver's patience decreasing as his caffeine craving increased.

So yes, a stop on the road and a question like before, with a "need an espresso now" look in the eyes.

How lucky he is that he fell on "Pasta Della Casa".

A crumbly wonder.

Pasta Della Casa

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Moshe Barel's Italian gondola has been sailing for almost three decades in the Sharon region.

There is a flagship store in Ramat Hasharon, and a nostalgic-mythological branch in Kfar Mellel that recently moved to this Kfar Sabai western set, only to receive "welcome" from a global epidemic, and to renovate despite the bad news from East Asia.

Now, many months after all these upheavals behind him, Barel settled on what is probably the DNA of the place.

A wide heart, and an even wider hand.

We'll get to the pasta later.

Hummus, knapa, steak and croissant

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To the full article

The eyes are shiny, the speech is shortened.

Barel (photo: Walla! system, Yaniv Garnot)

The result, as one would hope with things from Italy and workers from Italy and someone who happened to be born in Jaffa and not in Italy, is pulsating

The factory that makes "Pasta Della Casa" includes a fascinating and entertaining amusement park of machines, including menacing rollers and delicate tongs whose entire function in life is to kiss the tortellini goodbye on their way out.

A significant part of the raw materials is imported from Italy - flour from Pharma, for example, as well as a block of butter large enough to be a divided apartment in Tel Aviv - and the rest is landed from other Magaf regions, or from blue-white farms.

The result, as one would hope with things from Italy and workers from Italy and someone who just happened to be born in Jaffa and not in Italy, is pulsating.

Here there are fresh pastas, fettuccini and gnocchi and dozens of other types, ravioli stuffed with pistachios and cheeses or chestnuts, home-made sauces, lasagnas in molds to take home and lie to the guests that you took the trouble yourself, and countless other steps, to heaven but also to a home-cooked meal that is three steps above Walt, And yet a restaurant in the kitchen.

Homemade lasagna.

Pasta Della Casa (Photo: Walla! System, Yaniv Granot)

Including a Balkan wink.

Pasta Della Casa (Photo: Walla! System, Yaniv Granot)

"When I worked for an airline, I flew to Italy. A few days there were enough for me to call my manager and tell him 'goodbye, I'm staying"

Barel himself moves around the large space in an extroverted fashion, which quickly melts into a captivating childishness.

He starts to explain theoretically, then gives up, washes his hands and starts touching.

The eyes are bright, the speech is shortened, and there is no more medically accurate way to explain it than someone who loves what they do, yet.

"I started making pasta from home, and that's where the name was born," he repeated, "I was hungry for life, and at one point - when I was working for an airline, I flew to Italy. A few days there were enough for me to call my manager and tell him 'goodbye, I'm staying'."

Barel moved from the house to a small factory, and the small factory became a large factory, employing dozens of "mamas", Italian women and those who learned to be Italian.

His children, Michal and Ilan, also help manage the family business, and the general feeling you get during a tour is very similar to visiting a home (if this home had giant refrigerators inside of which molds and potential luxury meals are waiting, of course).

Amusement Park.

Pasta Della Casa (Photo: Walla! System, Yaniv Granot)

Nasty tiramisu.

Pasta Della Casa (Photo: Walla! System, Yaniv Granot)

We end the tour in the only possible way, as far as all parties involved are concerned - a kind of small-big tasting table, improvised on the surface but in practice it seems to be set up here almost every day.

Hot lasagna is placed on it, still bubbling in its perfection.

On the side is waiting Benitza, that crispy Balkan "pie", seemingly from another story, but actually from the exact same story.

All around, in the deli that invites delicious shopping sprees, you can complete a basket with Italian gin or Campari bottled in multiple sizes, cans of wine and Amarena cherries, serving utensils and things that will make your table stop envying the one who just went to Tuscany.

home, family

Barel and his children (Photo: Ilan Spira)

At the end, a crispy spolitala awaits with citrus ricotta from Naples, and also a Coda d'Argusta, a bigger and tastier version of the crumbly wonder, with pistachio cream or chocolate (a giant container of Nutella was also spotted in the corner of the eye, so the fantasy exists).

Barel himself labored over a large tiramisu pan, stopping every few seconds the serving spoon only to pounce on wandering customers with delicious saucers in their hands.

That driver with the coffee is still here too, apparently refusing to get up after discovering the Indiana Jonesy cache in the industrial area, and getting over everything with revealing calls to friends.

The tiramisu finally lands in my hands, a thick feast of cocoa-mascarpone, which tricks you into dessert with the alibi "it's not that sweet so it's allowed".

Another spoon and another, another smile and another story, another customer and another table extension.

Quite a few restaurants use this food, but only here will you feel at home.

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• pasta

• tiramisu

• lasagna

• Italian food