My childhood was very conflicted. My parents loved to travel and explore new places, and they loved taking us everywhere too. Before the ripe old age of 12, I had already been to Australia, Bangkok, Switzerland, Mauritius, London, Hong Kong (twice), Singapore (thrice) and even 2 different Disneylands (Paris and Orlando). And yet, wherever we went, we always ate Indian food. There was no exploration when it came to matters of the stomach. There was always an Indian restaurant waiting to be found in a city and somehow, we always found it. If it hadn't been for my uncle AK, I would probably have left Switzerland never knowing what fondue was. The one exception to the rule, however, seemed to be for Italian food. Pizza and pasta were somewhat tolerable to my dad, and we always looked forward to the respite it provided from the cuisine monotony, creating an everlasting bond with the food. Yet, it almost got to a point that when my food horizons were finally expanded, new Italian restaurants were one of the last few I wanted to try. Still, it is always hard for me to say no to a great bowl of pasta and luckily for it, Scarpetta has a few.
