My husband has had to hear my views on Italian food since before we began dating.
We were in a traveling theatre group at our University and while on a trip
I held my foot down to our group for stopping at Olive Garden for dinner.
I will admit it: I am an ‘Italian food’ snob.
Ten years later my husband finally gets his first (and second and third…) taste
of this amazing food I have not stopped bringing up in conversation.
‘You were right’ he said.
Now he shares my burden.
The burden of all people who have lived or traveled to Italy
and have eaten their hearts out on the beautiful, mouth watering, delicious food.
When you live else where in the world and crave a pizza.
Not just any pizza but pizza from Italy.
Or for us we crave real Neapolitan pizza.
Any kind.
As my husband told my sons yesterday,
 ‘I’ve never had a pizza I did not like in Naples’.
It is comforting knowing I’m married to man who gets me
and who is equally passionate about Italian food.

The one story I used to tell him about often was eating at the houses of
Ada and Maria, two of the women at our Italian church on the coast of Bagnoli.
How the pasta was the best you would ever eat.
How you would be given seconds and thirds.
Followed by courses of salad, cheese, meat, and dessert.
You would eat past the point of being full, unable to tell your host ‘no more’.
It would be amazing.
This past summer my husband got to finally experience that  with my church family.
I will admit I was busy eating and savouring each bite to document the food fully.
But below is a little glimpse into some of the best food and memories
that a girl who grew up in Italy could ask for and then some.
Enjoy.