The provident nature of Apulia is evident in its many wheat products, such as flour, cereal, pastas, focaccie, taralli, friselle and biscuits. Even now, in some villages of inland Apulia, women continue the tradition of circulating the yeast for making bread, and it is still possible to find wooden or metal seals bearing the monogram or distinctive family mark that is stamped on loaves before baking. In certain corners of the region, marked by cobblestone streets and stone steps withened by bleach and women's hard work, it is said that bread is the providence of God and must never be played with or thrown away.
Those who waste bread will be condemned to as many years in purgatory as the number of crumbs wasted and will have to pick those crumbs up, one by one, with their eyelids. "Even placing a loaf upside-down is not allowed", women dressed in black explain, sitting under arches along narrow streets, singing as they roll their orecchiette and corkscrew pastas, as pots indoors bubble with ragu' sauce."It would be like turning one's face away from Christ". Continuing by them, one can hear more bubbling pots, perhaps containing beans, which are still cooked on the hearth or in wood-burning stoves, in places where pressure cookers and microwave ovens are unknown. Legumes, another recently discovered element of Mediterranean cuisine, were the mainstay of the peasant diet for decades.Working far from their homes, peasant cooks would leave beans to simmer all day, returning in the evening to eat the puree'. They say that Hercules acquired the strength for his mythical undertakings from the puree of fava beans, which, combined with fresh sweet chicory or Swiss chard is served as a delicacy today.

Another enduring ritual of Apulia is that performed during the annual bottling of fresh tomato sauce. This tradition continues in the countryards of the old city centers, in Bari and other towns large and small. A short distance from the chaotic traffic jams and frenetic pace of contemporary life, one may find whole families and flocks of neighbors brought together by this custom. The first day, perhaps the hottest and muggiest day in August, begins with the selection of the tomatoes, which, according to the older women, must be red, ripe, and undamaged.
After the tomatoes have been chopped and boiled, they are sieved through food mills by the youngest partecipants, and then everyone, young and old, men and women, joins forces to pour the sauce into carefully washed bottles, adding a few basil leaves so that some of the flavors and colors of the summer will be preserved for the winter. Airtight bottle caps are used today, but at one time corks were used, and some still prefer them. The boiling or sterilization of the bottles occurs at sunset, and everyone, warm and content, sits end enjoys the cool evening air. If one of the bottles bursts while boiling, making a cracking sound like fireworks, it is considered a sign of good luck and is greeted with an explosion of contagious laughter. The magic and charm of Apulia are a mixture of ancient and modern, sacred and profane, religion and paganism, combined so judiciously that it is hard to see where one ends and the other begins. This is why on some small streets on the Gargano Promontory, people still ride donkeys while planes speed over-head, and why a single field can be shared by telephone poles, beets, fennel, and grazing herds.
Similarly, processions and carnival parades, the rites for rain or a good harvest, will hold up traffic and cause amazement. Apulia is like that: you can cross the street and face an ancient world, knowing that the realm of modern technology is right behind you. Here the two worlds are happily and quietly hinged together, since one can find in each what the other lacks, or its opposite.