Joseph K.
Google
A Craving for Carbonara, and a Taste of Rome
For some reason, I found myself craving carbonara.
The kind I once had at Taverna 51 in Trastevere, Rome—the thick, rich, velvety carbonara that stays with you long after the meal is over. Honestly, expecting that kind of carbonara in the United States is not easy. Wherever you order carbonara here, it almost always arrives drowned in cream. So even as I felt that craving, I walked into the restaurant Due without much expectation.
“Due” means two in Italian. I walked in alone, a little wearily, and as I said, without high hopes. But this place—there was something different about it from the start. Near the entrance to the kitchen, sacks of flour were stacked high, and it was clear they were making fresh pasta in-house.
The open kitchen revealed two chefs at work, while a young staff member took orders at the counter. The system was prepaid, meaning tips weren’t really expected. They asked for my name; I said, “Joseph.” Not long after, my name was called out loudly from the kitchen.
When I approached the counter, there it was.
Just from the look of it, I knew—this was the kind of carbonara I had eaten in Rome.
The Most Italian Pasta I’ve Had in America
I ordered it because I missed the carbonara I’d had in Italy, and honestly, it turned out to be the closest thing to it I’ve ever tasted in the U.S. The pasta was fresh yet perfectly al dente, and the unmistakable richness of egg yolk came through clearly. It was a proper carbonara.
If I had one minor complaint, it would be the portion size—it was definitely smaller than what I usually make at home. But that may simply be because I tend to eat rather generously. Still, there was no doubt about it: this was the taste I remembered from Italy.
The Roman Trinity of Pasta
Carbonara, along with amatriciana and cacio e pepe, is one of the three iconic Roman pastas. The staff asked me to choose the type of pasta, and I requested spaghetti, just as I had it in Rome. At this restaurant, the pasta shape can be selected depending on the dish.
True carbonara, of course, is made with egg yolk and Pecorino cheese—no cream. As I ate, that unmistakable “taste of Rome” stirred old memories and brought them vividly back to life.
Supplì, Negroni, and a Touch of Temptation
Looking at the menu, I noticed supplì, and on the drink list, a Negroni—the same cocktail I used to enjoy in Italy. The restaurant first opened in 2007, and this particular location is a later branch.
Apparently, a Japanese ramen shop once occupied this space but closed down, and Due moved in a few years ago. The prices felt reasonable for lunch. In the end, I couldn’t resist the temptation of cannoli and ordered dessert as well.
I was sorely tempted to have a glass of wine, but since I was still on the clock, that was out of the question. Still, this is exactly the kind of place I’d love to visit with a friend from Korea someday—one where we’d surely order a full bottle of wine and enjoy it properly.
