Our story
We make pasta the way we wanted to eat it.
Forchetta Pasta began with a simple problem: you couldn't find pasta in Seattle that tasted like the pasta we remembered. So we started making it ourselves.
We are a small operation. There is no factory. There is a room in Seattle with bronze dies, a sheeter, marble counters, and a window that lets in too much rain in February and just enough light in July.
We started Forchetta Pasta because pasta — real pasta — is mostly about texture. Bronze-extruded surfaces hold sauce. Slow-dried strands stay toothsome. Hand-cut sheets fold around filling the way machine-cut sheets never quite do. None of this is romantic; it's just technique. But the result is pasta that tastes like it took someone's whole morning, because it did.
The maker
One person, one mixer, a lot of semolina.
What started in a home kitchen now lives in a small commercial space in Seattle. We still make every batch ourselves — measured by hand, cut by hand, packed by hand. The scale is intentional. The care is non-negotiable.
We're proudly Pacific Northwest. We use local eggs when we can, drink local coffee always, and ship within a tight enough radius that the pasta you get on Friday was probably extruded on Thursday.
We're not trying to be the biggest pasta company in the Pacific Northwest. We're trying to be a pasta you tell your friends about — the kind you serve to people you actually like, on a Wednesday, because they're coming over and you didn't have time to cook from scratch but didn't want to apologize for dinner either.
That's it. That's the whole story. Now come eat.