The Great Carbonara Crisis—or Carbonaragate, as it’s come to be known—has arrived at an oddly opportune moment for my family. We have just come back from a sort of impromptu carciofi and carbonara festival in Rome. I was there for the publication of an Italian translation of a Canadian book and, while officially pretending to be caught up in Gibbonian gloom, the truth is that we were enjoying dinner after delicious dinner at a variety of Roman trattorias, where the menu unvaryingly started off with artichokes and then moved on to bucatini carbonara.
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