In front of me there’s thick spaghetti noodles tossed with crispy pancetta, big flecks of cracked pepper sitting on a grassy pool of fava pureé. To my right there’s pecorino custard, next to that frilly waves of just shaved prosciutto, and guanciale simmered with tomatoes and a tannic red wine. “I’m at church.” He says… Read more »
