Homemade pasta is like anything else in the cooking world, terrifying until you make again and again. It seemed surreal and strange that you would mix the flour and eggs in a volcanic pile of flour on your bread board, crack the eggs inside the indentation of the “volcano” and whisk with a fork from the center, slowly adding more flour to the eggs with your fork as you work in the center of the volcano.
Carbonara was a dish that alluded me before I moved to Italy. It flies contrary to the cooking style of Americans. We view all sauces as containing cream or tomato sauce but this is not true of Italian pasta. The sauce is usually very simple, so simple we can’t imagine it to be correct.
We live in Nettuno, a beach town one hour south of Rome. The only thing Italians love as much as sun tanning on the beach is sauntering up from their sun beds into the Borgo for a steaming plate of mussels and pasta.
