Cacio e Pepe

I first had cacio e pepe in Venice – on a 48-hour bolt away on a whim with my friend Russell, to blast away a creeping depression that was starting to overwhelm me. The trip was impulsive; he was there already and I needed to run away from my four walls for a moment or two, to wander, to eat with abandon, to explore and enjoy. We wandered through cobbled streets, drank Negronis with chilli-stuffed fat olives in bars, stayed out until the small hours and ate pasta several times a day. It was