Calabria is the toe of Italy's boot, a region of mountains and sea where the food carries the same fierce character as the landscape. The cooking here does not whisper. It declares. And nothing declares more loudly than 'nduja, the spreadable salame that has made the tiny village of Spilinga famous among those who understand such things.

'Nduja is pork fat and meat ground with an almost reckless quantity of Calabrian hot peppers, then cured until it becomes soft enough to spread on bread or, as here, to melt directly into a sauce. The heat is not immediate. It builds, accumulating at the back of the throat, warming you from the inside. This is not the sharp bite of fresh chili. This is something deeper.

The pasta called fileja belongs to Calabria as surely as the peppers do. Each piece is twisted by hand around a thin rod, creating grooves that catch the sauce. If you cannot find fileja, strozzapreti or casarecce will serve. But know what you are substituting, and seek out the real thing when you can.

This dish requires exactly six ingredients beyond salt and water. Do not add more. No onion, no basil, no cream. The 'nduja provides all the complexity you need. What you keep out is as significant as what you put in.