Sometimes, when you're walking down the street in Rome, you find yourself scooting over to the edge of the sidewalk to give a wide berth to a couple of fragile, elderly men who are leaning in close, talking gruffly yet intimately to each other.
You take this wide berth because how how fragile they look, with their papery skin and faded eyes behind Coke bottle glasses. They look avulcular. Kind. And as you pass, you tilt your head in to eavesdrop a little.
And the raspy hiss you pick up tells the whole story.
These are your neighborhood capos.
Or at least that was my Rome. Today.
It was also Giovedi gnocchi. So I attempted gnocchi alla sorrentina. And I NAILED it. My first successful gnocchi production ever. (I did not post an earlier attempt that resuted in lumpy golf balls of unevenly cooked potatoes).
I think my proportions were a little off, but my gnocchi were soft as pillows and sweet as candy. (Note: According to one of my gnocchi ladies, if you want softer gnocchi, remove them from the water as soon as they start to float. If you prefer a slightly firmer gnoccho, leave them in for another minute or two.)
Behold my gnocchi! (And the pesto I had to make with all my leftover basil since I had all those random hazlenuts kicking around.)
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