Slutti Spaghetti πŸ’₯ 🍝

Slutti Spaghetti πŸ’₯ 🍝

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Slutti Spaghetti πŸ’₯ 🍝
Slutti Spaghetti πŸ’₯ 🍝
Sluttiest Eats of May's Last Weeks
sluttiest eats

Sluttiest Eats of May's Last Weeks

spoiler: the best Caesar salad may be in Verona

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Victoria Cece
Jun 06, 2023
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Slutti Spaghetti πŸ’₯ 🍝
Slutti Spaghetti πŸ’₯ 🍝
Sluttiest Eats of May's Last Weeks
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And then, one fairy night, May became June.

- F. Scott Fitzgerald

Goodbyes seem to come in groups. Like a tropical rain shower - many raindrops, quick, and heavy.

This past week was filled with multiple goodbyes. Not all sad, though. I saw my parents for the first time in 4 months and spent a much-needed week together over lots of bubbles in the sun. I watched a good friend close a beautiful chapter and embark on a brand new journey.

Then May was a wrap in what felt like literally 3 seconds.

A quick shout out to the taxi driver who got me to my train on time. Almost had to sit in Termini for an hour, which isn’t a death sentence but most definitely a nightmare. Rome is ultra chaotic these days. Growing up in the tri-state groomed me for constant chaos, though. No complaints here - I adore the Eternally (Chaotic) City.

To make light of it all, I wanted to share all the yummy things I ate these past 2 weeks of May, accompanied by little bits from the special people I shared them with. Read on for May’s sluttiest eats.

Pollo alla cacciatora & My Father - Romanè

Let’s just say - the vowel game was real at my Dad’s birthday dinner.

In Italy, it’s pollo alla cacciatora. In New Jersey, it's β€˜chicken cacciatore’ (with the β€˜e’ sounding more like a β€˜y’). I was blessed with the best of both worlds at RomanΓ¨ - my Dad of course, a fine example of a Jersey Italian from Newark, and a plate of Roman pollo alla cacciatora. And, this wasn’t Meadow’s usual chicken cacciatore (no offense, Carmela).

Romanè’s pollo alla cacciatora was otherworldly. They added magia (magic) in the ingredients, and I thought it was just a cute description. Nope - that sauce was some kind of wizardly elixir. Perhaps that’s just what pure quality fat and white wine taste like. Either way, MAGIC.

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