The cooking of Venice is so distant from that of Naples that not a single authentic dish from one is to be found on the other's table. This is never more true than with pasta e fagioli. Venetians make theirs thick, almost a paste, with rice-shaped pasta and no tomato. Neapolitans want broth. They want brightness. They want the red of San Marzano tomatoes cutting through the starch of beans.

In Naples, this is poor food made with rich intention. The broken pasta, pasta mista, was once the sweepings from the pasta factory floor, shapes too small or irregular to sell. Neapolitan housewives bought them cheaply and discovered that the mix of sizes created texture, some pieces soft, some still firm, in a way uniform pasta cannot.

The pork is not optional. Pancetta, prosciutto ends, a ham bone, sometimes sausage. This is what separates soup from broth with beans. The fat renders slowly into the soffritto, perfuming everything that follows. What you keep out is as significant as what you put in, but what you put in must include pork.