Ask any Italian, from the humblest homemaker to the most celebrated chef, what the classic pastas are, and you will get a shrug, a hand raised in a dismissive gesture or a reply that reflects a personal favorite rather than something that is well-known, traditional or a standard of excellence. Achieving a consensus is next to impossible. To talk about pasta dishes is really to talk about their regions of origin and the simple ingredients that give their sauces a unique identity. Ultimately, the eight pasta dishes to be discussed here – all'aglio e olio (garlic and oil), alla marinara (tomatoes), alle vongole (clams), con melanzane (eggplant), con cime di rape (broccoli rabe), alla Genovese (pesto), alla Bolognese (meat-based ragù) and alla carbonara (eggs, bacon and cream) – fit neatly within the definition of a classic: each is tried and true, typical to many regions, and, in a few cases, famous. Though any number of wines could serve as a match to these pastas, we have limited our selections to those from Italy that use primarily local grapes. And because the pastas themselves are from the central and southern portions of the country, no wines from the northernmost provinces of Italy are mentioned (with Liguria as our most northerly source). Most of the recommended wines are made from white grapes, a point which may surprise some readers. Frankly, because each pasta sauce is rudimentary, many red wines, especially those that are excessively thick-textured and highly extracted, tend to overwhelm the preparations. This excludes, therefore, most of Italy's big-hitters, such as Brunello and Barbaresco, which are more appropriately served with meat and cheese courses. The only pasta dishes that we believe call for red wines are those made with a meat-based ragù, or with an especially savory vegetable.

Among the whites, look for subtle herbal and fruit components that are not excessively floral. Banish heavily oaked wines as garish intruders because there should be no jarring contrasts. Finally, the wines should assert themselves only to the extent of not detracting from the chewiness of the pasta or the subtleties of the sauce.

We will begin with two classic sauces that are the most universal and versatile – aglio e olio and marinara. Each is elegant in its utter simplicity, a masterpiece on its own, and an indispensable foundation for several other sauces.

Pasta with garlic and oil (aglio e olio) has probably been around since the first Etruscan nonna put the first bowl of it on her family's rustic table. It is the oldest and most used sauce in all of Italy, and the sauce from which countless herb, vegetable and seafood sauces have evolved. The simple, no-nonsense recipe calls for only garlic, olive oil and hot red pepper flakes. But parsley, basil, mint, rosemary, oregano or black pepper are often added to suit personal tastes. So elementary is this dish that it is rarely found on restaurant menus. At home, though, we revive ourselves with it at least once a week. We especially love to serve it when we have guests who need to be disabused of the notion that pasta is nouvelle cuisine. As an opening act for anything from steak to vegetables right off the grill, or as a standard after-theater or late-night meal by itself, this simplest of pasta dishes is simply delicious.

Aglio e olio requires a wine that is not too aggressive and is smooth-textured enough to tame the pungency of the garlic. San Angelo, the Tuscan Pinot Grigio from Castello Banfi ($13), is a perfect match – especially if chopped parsley is part of the preparation (and it usually is) – because the wine possesses a distinctly herbal tone. Most Pinot Grigios from northern Italy have a slight edge to them that intrude on the preparation, but San Angelo is definitely more rounded. A recommended alternative that has some of San Angelo's compelling qualities is Colomba Platino from Duca di Salaparuta ($11), which is made mostly from Sicily's relatively unknown inzolia grape.

From the incredibly simple aglio e olio preparation comes marinara. The single step of adding tomatoes to the basic garlic and oil recipe, elevates this sauce to the next level. Ask most Italians and pasta cognoscenti what they would choose to eat at their last supper, and they'll exclaim, fingertips closed and raised to pursed lips, eyes rolled toward heaven, "Pasta alla marinara!" And to neither of these two sauces does any self-respecting pasta lover ever commit the sacrilege of adding grated cheese. (Italians use cheese with meat or cream-based sauces.)

While most Americans are predisposed to red wine with marinara, we believe the ideal match is Vermentino, a rising star white wine among the relatively unknown native Italian varietals. (Even celebrated Winemaker Piero Antinori has invested substantial resources in the production of a top-flight Vermentino.) Unlike the long-simmered, heavy-textured sauces favored by Italian-Americans that could easily go with a rough-textured red wine, marinara sauce in Italy is a simple, gentle and light sauce. What we are talking about here are the classic Italian preparations and, in this case, most red wines are ill-suited. What Vermentino has going for it is a combination of moderate viscosity, crispness and a mineral edge that makes it a cross between an Oregon Pinot Gris and a Friulian Pinot Bianco. The Ligurian Vermentino Vigna U Munte from Colle dei Bardellini ($14) is well suited to the unmasked flavors of the minimal ingredients because of its subtle balance of tartness and unctuousness that embraces the acid bite and oily texture of the lightly cooked tomatoes. Other good choices among Vermentinos are the Sardinian La Cala from Sella e Mosca ($7) and La Costa di Giulia of Michele Satta ($13) from the Tuscan coast.

Spaghetti alla marinara is our standard fare when we've just returned home from a trip or when we've been away from our own cooking for a while. Like many Italians, we turn to this dependable fare as comfort food, to soothe our stomachs and calm our digestive systems when they've been subjected to a succession of rich foods. A plate of baby greens, a bottle of Vermentino and some fresh fruit complete the ritual.

From the primary oil- and tomato-based sauces, it's just a short culinary hop to the classic clam sauce (alle vongole). For the "white" version, just add clams and perhaps a little white wine to the garlic and oil and call it alle vongole in bianco; for red, add clams to the marinara and call it alle vongole in rosso. Claimed by many seafaring regions, clam sauce is most frequently and appropriately identified with the coastal region of Campania in southern Italy, and it is the Neapolitans, the indisputable pasta cognoscenti, who have perfected it. For us, pasta alle vongole is a staple that's indelibly connected with summer evenings, when after a day at the beach, we buy tiny mollusks or cockles for dinner. Although pasta with clam sauce is a winner any time of year, we think of it as a light but eminently satisfying summer meal when followed by a small salad and perhaps a scoop of espresso granita topped with a dollop of whipped cream. Of course, grated cheese is never used in this or any seafood preparation, as it would interfere with the pure and natural flavor of the seafood. Here again, a white wine from the vermentino grape is a strong first choice because its slight mineral tang enhances the whiff of brine in the dish. Any one of the versatile Vermentinos mentioned earlier would do just fine. For a white clam sauce, at least, another option would be a Fiano di Avellino ($17). This classic from Campagna is, in the hands of a producer like Mastroberardino, one of the most distinctive white wines of Italy.

Next on the list is pasta con melanzane, a typical Sicilian dish and inveterate favorite that showcases eggplant, the vegetable that is the most ubiquitous ingredient in the island's culinary repertoire. It's often called pasta Norma, sometimes referring to the opera by Catanian-born Vincenzo Bellini, and at other times, as reference to "the norm," or the everyday ingredients indigenous to Sicily. Purists build it from the foundation of a basic tomato sauce by incorporating exquisitely fried eggplant, while those whose palates require a more complex dressing add peppers, anchovies and capers.

Because of the eggplant's earthy, fleshy texture, a pairing with red wine is not amiss. Even though the dish is Sicilian, we gravitate toward the Primitivo di Salento – allegedly a relative of zinfandel – from the producer Cantele ($10) in Apulia. The rich and slightly exotic aromas of this wine are enhanced by a mellowness that embraces the equally rich but creamy quality of the eggplant. A fine substitute is the Sardinian Cannonau of Sella e Mosca ($8), a wine made mostly from garnacha. Using pasta Norma as an example, it's not difficult to understand that cultivating a vegetable garden in Italy – on even the tiniest postage stamp plot – is much more than a leisure pastime. Home gardens provide a spate of inexpensive and nutritious ingredients from which to craft creative variations on the basic bowl of pasta. For amateur and idealistic horticulturists, pasta is the ideal vehicle for taking advantage of runaway summer vegetable crops.

Cime di rape (pronounced RAH-pay) is another spinoff of the garlic and oil sauce. Actually, its preparation refers to any hard flower-topped vegetable, such as broccoli, cauliflower or rabe (technically a type of turnip green). This dish is a specialty of many southern Italian regions, but is most attributable to the southeastern coastal region of Apulia, where cooking with vegetables has been elevated to an art form. The authentic recipes for cime di rape demand that the pasta be cooked in the water used for the vegetable (to infuse its flavor), which is removed and set aside for a final toss with oil and garlic. While orecchiette (meaning little ears, and referring to the shape of the pasta) are traditionally called for, just about any pasta seems to work well. In Sicily, cime di rape is sometimes accented with anchovies or capers, which have a saltiness that complement the musty taste of the cruciferous vegetables. For those who want to pursue still other versions of this classic, add cannellini beans, sausage or pignoli nuts along with onions, saffron and raisins. As for the classic cime di rape, despite its winter vegetable flavor, it is surprisingly adaptable to all seasonal appetites. We like it best on a crisp autumn afternoon, after a pilgrimage to a local farm stand laden with broccoli and cauliflower, when the air is redolent with burnt cornstalks and sweet decay. At any time, though, this dish – served before an arista (pork with roasted rosemary), a wedge of pecorino cheese and ripe, fragrant pears – spells contentment.

As for wine, what is needed here is something to work with the slightly bitter and peppery character of the dish. We tried several wines, but because none seemed ideal, we consulted Charles Scicolone, the knowledgeable wine director of the Apulian restaurant I Trulli and its adjacent enoteca in Manhattan. Pasta with cime di rape is a signature dish at this acclaimed restaurant and he suggested the Apulian white, Locorotondo, which is made from a blend of local grapes. We had tasted this unusual white only once, in Italy, and we were delighted to re-discover that its ripe, sweet and meaty apple flavor transformed the piquancy of the greens into something winsome. The Locorotondo called Tallinaio from the Cantina Sociale di Locorotondo ($9) makes this dish sing.

We can now look at pesto alla Genovese, another simple but delicious sauce that is similar in color and ingredients to cime di rape, but differs greatly in texture, taste, preparation and origin. Traditionally, pesto alla Genovese is made with oil, garlic, basil and pine nuts and claimed indisputably by Liguria, a region so possessive of its recipe that it insists the real stuff be made only with the region's fruity green olive oil and intoxicatingly fragrant basil. Served in Liguria with trenette (broad noodles), but suited to virtually any pasta shape, pesto is the perfect answer to a no-cook pasta dressing. Requiring just a few quick whirs in the food processor, pesto, with its garlic and oil base, is another elementary sauce that can be prepared with any leafy herb or pulpy vegetable.

In the absence of a Ligurian villa overlooking the Mediterranean, any sun-drenched patio or balcony provides the idyllic setting for a leisurely lunch of pasta al pesto, accompanied by some sliced tomatoes with balsamic vinegar, a few pieces of crusty bread and a nicely chilled bottle of white wine for easy quaffing. The ideal match is an unsung wine made from pigato, a Ligurian variety that possesses a delicacy and freshness, in addition to a subtle herbal quality equal to that of the basil. An excellent choice is Le Rus Se Ghine from Bruna ($15) in Liguria. An equally fine bottling, also Ligurian, is that of Colle dei Bardellini's pigato-based Vigna la Torretta ($15).

Unlike other classic Italian sauces, which are lightly cooked or not cooked at all, ragù is responsible for producing the image of the archetypal long-simmering sauce stirred by the equally long-suffering cook. That's because tenderizing and extracting juices from meat requires considerable cooking time. To be fair, there is hardly a region of Italy that doesn't boast some version of a marinara-based meat sauce. In different parts of Tuscany, for example, a ragù dish can run the gamut from wide noodles with hare sauce (pappardelle con lepre) to pasta with a ragù incorporating wild boar, pheasant or chicken liver. The popular Neapolitan version uses beef, prosciutto, onions, garlic and red wine.

The Bolognese version of ragù offered here digresses the most in that it deletes garlic, substitutes butter for oil, includes veal and pork as well as beef, and adds white wine and cream to the mix. We have chosen it because it is an arrestingly delicious sauce that is both famous and widely imitated. In fact, tagliatelle alla Bolognese is just one of a trinity of typical pasta dishes (lasagne and tortellini are the others) that make Emilia-Romagna, for many serious food lovers, the regional capital of Italian cuisine. Its fresh, delicate pastas are perfect counterpoints for its native sauces, the most well-known of which is ragù. Tagliatelle alla Bolognese is appropriate for special occasions if served with a veal roast, or it can be a casually elegant main course when accompanied by some young, pencil-thin asparagus or sautéed chard.

The ambrosial luxuriousness and sweetness of a proper Bolognese sauce should not be masked by a wine that is too exuberant. What is called for is a light red wine that has enough sapidity to accentuate the sauce. The Santa Costanza novello from Castello Banfi ($8), Italy's eloquent response to France's Beaujolais nouveau, is a joyous quaffing wine that accentuates the mouth-watering quality of the sauce. Another apt wine is Concerto, a Lambrusco from the firm of Medici Ermete ($15) in Reggio-Emilia. For those biased against the more common fizzy, soda pop versions of this wine, the Concerto serves as a real surprise because it avoids the stereotype while remaining fresh and engaging. Another red that works equally well is a Rosso di Montalcino, not as authoritative or austere as a full-blown Brunello di Montalcino, but with plummy flavors and enough grip to marry well with the ragù. Among the several Rosso di Montalcino that can be recommended are those of Argiano ($21), Caparzo ($20) and Castello Banfi ($21). For the robust ragùs of Tuscany and Umbria, where game and innards are more customarily used as the meat base, red wines of a pronounced character are required to offset the faintly gamy and earthy qualities of the sauce. We suggest the sangiovese and canaiolo blend Rubesco, a Rosso di Torgiano from the Umbrian firm of Lungarotti ($12).

The Roman pasta alla carbonara stands alone among the eight dishes profiled because it is not a derivative of either the aglio e olio or the marinara. An unctuously rich sauce made with eggs, pancetta, cream and black pepper, carbonara stands out even more than the other classics because it is dreamily delicious and a clear choice among both our friends and acquaintances. A monthlong conference in Salzburg that we attended some years ago brought pasta alla carbonara's popularity into focus for us. By month's end, having had our fill of sausage, potatoes and cabbage, we yearned for our own soul food. Having determined to cook our own farewell dinner, it was with remarkable dispatch that the entire group of 90 attendees (from various ethnic backgrounds) selected pasta as the main course, and it was with equal alacrity that we decided it had to be pasta alla carbonara.

Some translate carbonara as charcoal burner's style (believing it to be an ancient dish of the carbonari, or coal miners), others insist that carbonara refers to the liberal sprinklings of ground black pepper that look like tiny pieces of coal. Still others hold that the recipe was born when American GIs brought their ration of bacon and eggs to their Italian lovers who cooked them with spaghetti. Whatever its origins, this earthy dish makes a great late supper and is elegant enough to deserve formal attire and sterling silverware.

The lushness of alla carbonara, accented by the spiciness of the pancetta and crushed pepper, is best met with a silky and distinctive white wine. Ruffino's Libaio ($9) is a fine selection because of its harmonious blend of several varieties, including chardonnay. The Sauvignon Blanc Serena from Banfi's Montalcino ($18) estate is also an ideal choice because it has enough zing and caressing smoothness to make the match work (unlike some other wines from this grape, the Serena is not too sauvage). Yet another attractive candidate, made from the impressive grechetto (a clone of the ancient greco grape), is simply called Grechetto from the Umbrian producer Falesco ($12).

Italy's classic pasta sauces, from the rudimentary marinara to the robust ragù and divine carbonara, are as emblematic as its green, red and white flag, the columns on a Roman ruin or a Verdi aria. Timeless and enduring, they are both the foundation and building blocks of Italian culture at home and abroad.

Barbara and Edward Beltrami are New York-based writers who regularly contribute to The Wine News on Italian wine and cuisine.