Spaghetti Con Vongole: Le Marche Italy in a Clam
Sometimes it’s one simple meal that will indoctrinate you into a culture and burn memories into your brain.
I had been to Le Marche before, but in the winter, where the sea was asleep, foggy and distant. I was content to stay perched up on the mountain in Civitanova Alta or around Pesaro avoiding snow storms and learning how to make broth–the Marchigiani way. But now in August, the sun was high over the waters, the umbrellas on the beaches stood up proudly in the sand and just about everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, was out on the beach or in the sea. I thought about my poor, pale, New York blue skin tone and how it was sure to reflect light from the sun like a mirror and take out a small plane. Nonetheless, I, too, wanted to be on that beach and in the water.