Pasta. Flour, eggs, water, and some oil. Mixed and rolled out then cut into strips or run through a pasta maker. The fresh pasta is usually hung over a dowel to dry.
Pasta, boiled, baked, fried, chilled, chopped or long enters a menu to soak up the flavor of what sauce, you chose to make.

In a little eatery in Rome, late in the evening the pasta comes out naked on the plate. Next to this beautiful nest is a meat ball and a small puddle of sauce. The taste of this simple meal; extraordinary.
Dessert simply apple slices and several slices of a hard white cheese.

Pasta does it's work. It is an aphrodisiac only for Morpheus, the mythical God of sleep. Pasta is the most wonderful of aids for sleep but at a price. Those naughty carbs are the toll of Pasta.
For as much as we love it, it loves us and will stay with us till we work it off.
Pasta, like a favorite aunt or uncle is best seen infrequently but enjoyed on special occassions.
Ciao!