When in Rome, when it’s summer, try the spaghetti al limone.
My younger sister and I were lucky enough to visit our father in Germany last summer. I’d just graduated college, and the chance to think in travel itineraries instead of real-world milestones was almost as enchanting as the landmarks I could see. I’m thankful for that amazing opportunity. Rome was an absolute dream. I wanted to take it all in at a fever pace, but as a redhead with a German-Canadian’s cold weather constitution, no amount of gelato could keep me cool enough for unbroken touring. My heart was in the Coliseum but my body temperature was at Mount Vesuvius.
Just after Aventine Hill, we stumbled into a cafe for some mineral water and a fortifying dose of carbs. I couldn’t face a hearty Bolognese with my pasta; even marinara was out of the question. So I chose something that seemed tart, summery, and–prophetically?–adventurous: a creamy, lemony pasta.