Con Pecorino

We love Italian food. Of course we do. Who doesn't? But we moved here from the Bay Area, which has an extraordinary array of restaurants from every corner of the globe. We were spoiled for choice and variety, and occasionally we still crave something different.

A few evenings ago we went out for Persian. Last night we celebrated Steve's birthday with an omakase sushi dinner.

And just as American kitchens have long put their own spin on international cuisines, Rome adds a distinctly Italian accent to everything it touches. Last night's sushi was liberal with the truffles. One dish had parmesan; another, basil. Over the months we've also encountered edamame con pecorino, ravioli cinesi con verdure, and ube gelato.

The one cuisine that has so far been a complete disappointment: Mexican. We got burritos from the local taqueria. They were poorly wrapped, slightly sweet, and the cheese was — best we could tell — fontina. Apparently there's a better option in Trastevere. We'll investigate when the homesickness gets bad enough.