I am very passionate about Italian food. To the point that if you take me to an Italian restaurant outside of Italy, I will tell you it is not ‘real’ Italian food. My in-laws insist that that the family owned Italian restaurant in their small midwest town is authentic because the owner is ‘I-Talian’. However both the pizza and pasta sauces are so sweet, you could have fooled me with a jar of processed Prego sauce. Both do not sit well with my palette or my years from growing up in southern Italy. I am convinced that any Italians cooking in America cook for the American palette. Any American-Italians that cook food are cooking ‘American-Italian food’ which is not Italian food. Which is great. Just do not confuse the two as one. I am also a purist and I believe that you need certain ingredients like the salty Mediterranean air to make anything truly authentic. However I did find one place in Malibu, California that served the closest to the real thing. I liked the food so much that I made sure to give my compliments personally to the chef. He was Italian and I give him props for sticking with the pure tastes of Italy. My husband has had to hear my views on Italian food since before we began dating. The one story I used to tell him about often was eating at the houses of |
The busy city of Napoli, Italia became my home twice in my life for a total of six years. |
The meal being prepared by Maria and Ada. |
You will never leave hungry. Quite the opposite. |
Must continue to brush up on my Italian vocabulary to keep up in the passionate fast talking conversations. |
Delicious foods that were the ensemble to the main pasta course. |
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