10/17/2026
I used to think I loved pasta. Then I went to Rome and realized I’d never actually had it.
I’m talking about a tiny trattoria, a plate of cacio e pepe, and three ingredients. Pasta, pecorino romano, black pepper. That’s it. No cream. No shortcuts. No jar. And it was the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.
That trip changed the way I think about food, period.
In Rome, pasta isn’t complicated. It’s honest. The Romans have four classics they’ve been making for generations: cacio e pepe, gricia, amatriciana, and carbonara. Every one of them is built on a handful of ingredients, and every one of those ingredients has to be good because there’s nowhere to hide.
Real carbonara? Egg yolks, guanciale, pecorino, pepper. If someone hands you carbonara with cream and peas, they’re lying to you.
Here’s what Italy taught me:
🍝 Quality over quantity. Fewer ingredients, better ingredients.
🍝 Read the label. If your pasta or your sauce has a list of things you can’t pronounce, put it back.
🍝 Bronze-cut pasta is worth it. That rough texture is what makes the sauce actually cling.
🍝 Save your pasta water. That starchy water is the secret to a silky sauce. Not cream. Never cream.
🍝 Make it yourself. Homemade sauce, homemade noodles. It’s slower, and that’s the point.
Now I make my own noodles, my own sauce, and I’m picky about every single thing that goes into the pot. I don’t want any junk in my food, and once you’ve tasted the real thing, you won’t either.
So if you’ve ever wondered whether a trip to Italy is worth it, let me answer for you: go for the food alone. Go to Rome, sit down somewhere with no English menu, order whatever the nonna recommends, and let it ruin every Olive Garden for you forever. You’re welcome. 😉
Tell me your go-to pasta below 👇 and if you’ve been to Italy, tell me where I need to eat next time.