In Lucania the plate is a bowl, not a dry tangle of noodles. Broad, short lengths of eggless semolina pasta sit in a warm bean soup, the starch of the dough thickening the broth just enough to cling. One account prefers beans grown nearby, so the flavour stays close to the hills that grow them. It is the sort of supper that asks for a spoon: heat, pulse, and a modest chew from pasta that never saw an egg.
Basilicata’s PAT list still records lagane e fagioli, and it keeps the local name forms beside the familiar title. That entry does not dress the dish up as ceremony; it simply holds the wording of a pairing people already know. Between the register and the pot, the same idea remains: pasta cut wide and short, beans in a hot soup, a Lucanian habit written down without fuss.