Tasting Roma

I look for restaurants that cook with love. I always have, even when I didn’t know what that meant. I’ve been spoiled, growing up in a household where both my parents spent every day of their lives cooking with love when they raised us. Even from afar, and it’s been a long, long time since I left my parents’ home, I feel their love (especially when I cook a meal). A conversation on the phone will always cover what we each are having for dinner. And I always smile afterwards. With Thanksgiving just a few days away, it’s only appropriate that we turn our attention to family, food and football.

Ever since dinner at my friends Sean & Erin’s in Woodland Hills in Southern California, I’ve been having a craving for spaghetti alla bolognese. The American version bears little resemblance to the original recipe that found its roots in Bologna, Italy; most interestingly, that in Italy, spaghetti is never made with a bolognese. I didn’t know that till recently. No matter, I still love it. And I’ve been craving it.

In Sausalito, there is quaint joint (if every those to words could belong together, this was the place to do it) on Bridgeway called “Taste of Rome”. I’ve been there several times, and every single time, I order their spaghetti alla bolognese. While I order at the counter, I feel the warmth of the colours in the room, dominated by browns, and see the artwork on the wall, abstract with a splattering of bright colours. I see the life living outside through their large windows letting light in. The chalkboard colourfully displays the menu. Two small TV’s play the current games. I immediately feel at home. Though they do not have one, I imagine a fireplace would feel at home here; and I envision chestnuts roasting over an open fire. I say a small prayer to myself, thankful for the meal I am about to have and thankful for the trip I am about to take to visit family.

I sit outside, when a few minutes later my meal comes. Centered beautifully on a simple white plate is the spaghetti with the bolognese spread on top of it, with buttered garlic bread looking like ears on a face, on either side of the main dish.

And I ate. Every bite savored and loved. And the beautiful scene around me, savored and loved.

What’s your favourite place for spaghetti a la bolognese?? Where and why? Inquiring minds want to know!


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