Neapolitan Cuisine has many dishes identified with one festival or another, which in the past were made only then: le lasagne del Carnevale, for Carnival, struffoli at Christmas, and a several Easter pastries, the most important of which is the Pastiera, a centuries-old dish that appears in innumerable versions, each made according to a closely guarded family recipe. "Nobody escapes its allure," writes Caròla Francesconi "an allure due not so much to its goodness as to a subconscious love that's transmitted from generation to generation." One has to remember that she's writing for Italians here; the ingredients are particular and this is something a non-Neapolitan might find quite strange. However, anything that can burrow into the regional psyche, bearing with it the "perfumes of spring," is powerful stuff. The major variations are in the amount of acqua di arance, a non-alcoholic somewhat oily orange essence (if you cannot find it use orange extract) and the use of crema pasticcera (pastry cream), which some families include and others do not.
As I said, this is particular; it requires presoaked grain, which takes time to prepare (Neapolitan delicatessens now sell canned presoaked grain, and you may be able to find it near your house). To start from scratch, purchase 1/2 pound whole grain and soak it in cold water for two weeks, changing the water every two days (this is Caròla Francesconi's soaking time; another cookbook suggests three days, changing water daily). Come cooking time, drain it and cook the amount indicated. The pastiera is traditionally served in a 10-inch diameter round metal pan with a two-inch rim; Neapolitan pastry shops sell the pastiera in the pan and it is presented so at even the most elegant table.

The pie crust:
1 pound flour
1/2 pound lard (at room temperature)
1 cup sugar
4 yolks

The grain:
1/2 pound well-drained soaked grain
1 1/2 cups milk
The zest of a half an orange
A walnut-sized piece of lard
1 teaspoon sugar
1 packet vanillin (a teaspoon vanilla extract)

The filling:
10 ounces ricotta (purchase this fresh from a delicatessen)
3/4 cup sugar
3 eggs, separated
1 vial (1/4 cup) acqua di fiori d'arancio -- if you're using orange extract to taste, but I would think less
A pinch powdered cinnamon
1/4 cup minced candied citron
1/4 cup minced candied orange peel
1/4 cup candied squash (cocozzata, in Neapolitan)

Begin the day ahead by cooking the soaked grain with the milk, zest, lard, sugar and vanilla over an extremely low flame for at least four hours, or until the grains come apart and the milk has been absorbed, so that the mixture is dense and creamy.
The next morning make the pie crust: Make a mound of flour, scoop a well in the middle, and fill it with the lard, sugar and yolks. Use a fork or pastry cutter to combine the ingredients, handling the dough as little as possible (don't knead it). Once you have obtained a uniform dough press it into a ball and cover it with a damp cloth.
Pass the ricotta through a strainer into a large bowl, stir in the 3/4 cup sugar, and continue stirring for 5-6 minutes. Next, stir in the yolks, one at a time, and the grain. Next add the orange water; begin with half the amount and taste. Add more if you would like it orangier, keeping in mind that the aroma will fade some in baking. Stir in the cinnamon and the candied fruit as well, then whip the whites to soft peaks and fold them in.
Roll out 2/3 of the pastry dough and line the pan. Fill it with the filling. Next, roll out the remaining dough and cut it into strips, which you will want to lay across the filling in a diagonal pattern (lift them from the pastry cloth with a long spatula to keep them from breaking). Bake in a moderately hot oven (180 C or 370 F) for an hour or slightly more. The filling should dry almost completely and firm up, while the pie crust should brown lightly. Serve the pie in its pan, and continue to enjoy it over the next few days for breakfast.
You may be wondering about the pastiera's origin. Like the Cuccia Siciliana it's a miracle dish, born of the arrival in port of a grain ship during famine: The people were so hungry they threw the grain directly into the pot rather than grind it and bake bread. It's fitting that it now be used to celebrate Easter.