Pasta Olio

 

Having been born in Bloomfield and spent most of my life in New Jersey, it’s no wonder one of our children is an Italian teacher.  Part of what it means to live in North Jersey or the environs of New York City is to know what ‘real food’ is like.  To experience Italian is to eat and to be passionate about it.  

To know Italian food is to know pasta.  Pasta goes way beyond spaghetti and red sauce (or gravy, depending on the region of Italy being represented by the cook).  To recite a litany of sauces and dishes is to go through a scrap book of the palate, a journey on which I have been fortunate to be spoiled by some amazing cooks, sitting down at their tables, most often kitchen, and having a hard time getting up.  At the core of all this Italian food is Pasta.

One of the most elegant and knowledgeable gentlemen I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing told me that Pasta Olio is the most basic and the most easily messed up approach to this foundation of good food.  If he had never been to a restaurant (he meant an Italian restaurant, of course), he would simply order a plate of this arrangement of the basics of Italian life, pasta, olive oil, and garlic.  If the establishment did a good job, it was worthy of his business.  If not, he’d wait for new management,  Pasta Olio being the litmus for good food.  He looked great in a tux too.

Chris asked me what I wanted for Fathers’ Day dinner.  We had pan seared scallops, tomato and cucumber salad with fresh basil, and Pasta Olio.  I’ll be coming back here.