Back before parenthood and pandemic, when we were able to fly around the world, or jump in the car on a whim and just drive, I’d get to the ocean as often as I could. For a while there I was diving almost every weekend, and became quicker at jumping into a wetsuit and slinging on a tank than pulling on my socks and shoes.

Some Sundays I wake up and know exactly what type of pasta I want to make. Other times it takes a strong coffee and a rummage through the fridge. This weekend though my inspiration had run dry. Life’s been busy and days have been long. I’ve just been trying to get up that great big hill of hope for a destination. It’s time for a little healing nostalgia. This week we’re serving up 90s print triangoli.