I’m writing this tonight from a hotel room in Atlantic City, here for the New Jersey Emergency Preparedness Conference. It’s a good conference, important, even but if I’m being honest, traveling solo isn’t quite what it used to be. Somewhere along the way, the novelty wore off. These days, it’s just a little quieter without Maria and the girls.
That said, this year is a little different. With the FIFA World Cup and America250 events coming to all corners of New Jersey, this is one of those moments where showing up matters, where reconnecting with colleagues and strengthening relationships in emergency management isn’t just professional, it’s necessary.
Still… I’d trade the hotel room for my kitchen table in a heartbeat.
It’s been a full month getting here. Olivia hit a big milestone, goodbye teens, hello twenties. We stretched her birthday out over a few days the way we tend to do, culminating in our standing family tradition: hibachi dinner, where the food is great, but the real highlight is always the shared table and a little bit of fire.
Maria and I carved out an afternoon for us too, walking through Branch Brook Park in Newark under a canopy of cherry blossoms. And yes, the, largest collection of cherry blossoms in the country. Take that, DC. There’s something about that kind of afternoon that just slows everything down in the best way.
And then there’s Gabby. We’ve had the absolute privilege of traveling to watch her compete in the long jump for TCNJ. It’s something we rarely miss. In fact, I’ll be leaving this conference and making a pit stop on the way home just to catch her next meet. Some things aren’t optional.
Back in the kitchen, pasta has, unsurprisingly, been in heavy rotation. Easter brought a really solid pesto, and a few days later Maria and I were still enjoying the leftovers.
I’ve started making my pesto a little differently these days, nut free. Not because I have to, but because my nephew has a nut allergy, and I never want him to feel like there’s something on the table he can’t have. So instead of pine nuts, I use sunflower seeds. You still get that texture, that richness, that familiar pesto flavor… just without the risk.
And the best part? He takes the leftovers home every time.
It’s a small adjustment, but one that reminds me that food isn’t just about tradition, it’s about who’s sitting at the table.
Then came the past Friday night, and I went back to one of my favorites, one of the true pillars of Roman cuisine: Cacio e Pepe.
A Little History: Cacio e Pepe
Cacio e Pepe is about as Roman as it gets. The name translates simply to “cheese and pepper,” and that’s essentially the dish, along with pasta and a bit of technique.
Its origins trace back to shepherds in the Roman countryside. They needed food that was simple, portable, and wouldn’t spoil. Dried pasta, aged Pecorino Romano, and black pepper fit the bill perfectly. Pepper wasn’t just for flavor; it was believed to help stimulate warmth during long days outdoors.
What makes the dish remarkable isn’t complexity—it’s restraint. When done right, the starch from the pasta water emulsifies with the finely grated Pecorino and toasted black pepper to create a silky, creamy sauce… without a drop of cream.
It’s one of those dishes that reminds you: the fewer ingredients you use, the more they matter.
Why I Keep Coming Back to It
I’m a huge fan of the Roman pastas, but this one might be my favorite. The sharp, salty bite of the Pecorino. The warmth and subtle heat of freshly cracked, toasted black pepper. And that texture, creamy, but built entirely from technique.
It’s simple. It’s honest. And when it comes together, it’s perfect.
Kind of like the best moments this month.
Cacio e Pepe (Traditional Recipe)
Ingredients:
- 1 lb spaghetti or tonnarelli
- 1 ½ cups finely grated Pecorino Romano
- 2–3 teaspoons freshly cracked black pepper
- Salt (for pasta water)
Instructions:
- Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and cook the pasta until just shy of al dente. Reserve at least 1–2 cups of pasta water before draining.
- Toast the pepper in a large skillet over medium heat for about 1–2 minutes until fragrant.
- Add a ladle of pasta water to the skillet with the pepper and bring to a gentle simmer.
- Add the pasta directly into the skillet and toss to coat.
- Remove from heat and slowly add the grated Pecorino, tossing continuously. Add small amounts of reserved pasta water as needed to create a smooth, creamy sauce. (The key here is off heat to avoid clumping.)
- Serve immediately, topped with extra Pecorino and another crack of black pepper.
If you’re sitting in a quiet place tonight, maybe not where you’d rather be, this is the kind of dish that brings you back, even just a little.
And for me, that’s more than enough.
Adopted By Pasta 
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