Though perhaps a little late in life, and unhelpfully complicated by life’s realities, if I could choose someone to be when I grow up, without a doubt I’d be Inspector Montalbano. Aside from pleasantly relatable traits, such as his warranted, weary grouchiness and exaggerated hand gestures, Montalbano is a man who pays food the respect that it deserves.

Ah, rigatoni. For all of the incredible shapes and fillings out there, all of the carefully handcrafted pasta that we obsess over, there’s just something indescribably special about these chewy, ridged, extruded tubes. Even as a kid, I remember secretly hanging out for the dried supermarket rigatoni, despite always having a freezer full of fresh pasta. A big bowl of rigatoni with thick tomato sauce and a huge mound of grated cheese can fix just about anything.