I took this photo four days ago and only now noticed what appears to be an infant’s hand reaching towards the bowl. At no point in this meal was there a child anywhere nearby, and the hand doesn’t show up in any other photos. I asked the server about this and he only made a cryptic remark about how ten years ago, on that very night, a child had died while eating this pasta!
I hope he enjoyed giving me the heebie jeebies, because that cost him his tip.
See, this right here is why fettucine with tomato-based sauces never reached the heights it did with alfredo. It’s too flat. It sticks to itself. The watery sauce slips right off the surface, leaving you with a forkful of dry noodles and a bowl of sauce you have to lap up afterwards, like a dog in a weird racist-against-italians cartoon. Ordering this combination is a crime.
The plastic-y fakeness of both the pasta and sauce here play off each other to create something more unpleasant than either would be alone. The only way this could be worse is with Italian Sausage.
The breading on the topping here really blended in nicely with the meat. Sometimes you’ll get an awkward, congealed layer that comes from the defrosting process, but this one is barely noticable (check the taupe border between the white chicken meat and the brown breading to see what I’m talking about).
I really like the way the spoon in this dish was delicately tucked into the pappardelle noodles, cradling them like a protective father. Y’know, some of these pastas can really restore your faith in humanity.
This is a real joy to eat, and actually may be my favorite combination available now. Everything is light but flavorful, and the chicken is a great addition. An unironic and heartfelt five stars to this pasta.
There’s the initial rush and excitement of ordering your food, the anticipation, and then - it arrives! This photograph is my attempt to capture that moment - where the alfredo sauce seeps into the various crevices of the noodles, and you feel a mixture of bliss and shame.
I don’t suffer from celiac disease, and I’m really glad for that - this pasta is mushy and flat-tasting and has been for the dozen+ times I’ve ordered it. Granted, it’s a better option than no pasta at all, but so is suicide.
I named this pasta after my favorite food-related blogger/writer, who once penned a turn of phrase that really stuck with me when it comes to describing a sauce. He might say that the meatball here is “enveloped in a thick, creamy robe” of five-cheese marinara.
Then again, he might not say that. I don’t know what Mr. López-Alt thinks about Olive Garden’s food. I do know that his book totally changed the way I approach both cooking and food in general, and I highly recommend it if you’re at all interested in the science of the subject.
The artist has captured the rustic simplicity of a humble laborer’s midday meal. Notice his use of tasteful lighting to match the tasteful ingredients.
This time I’m trying ordering it on the side, with sauce on top. Did I succeed? The picture would be even better if I just cropped out the sausage entirely, so probably not. But I’m going to keep trying.
Could we have fritta for breakfast?
We gotta have it with lettuce
And flakes of basil, zinfandel