The Day Pasta Lost Its Power

Just over a month after we began removing carbohydrates from our everyday home life, an order arrived at my company that I had been quietly dreading.

A large firm had booked a “Pasta Friday” for their employees.

Pasta had always been my favourite dish. That is why it has long been a permanent item on my company’s menu. I have always made it from scratch, using the best ingredients available. The sauces are too rich, fragrant, carefully prepared by my own hands, without shortcuts.

I knew this would be a test.

I would arrive with my food truck and serve plates of freshly cooked pasta with beautifully scented sauces: spinach, ragù, cheese…

What would happen then?

Would I give in or not?

Cooking the sauces was not a problem. All of them had long been prepared without carbohydrates. Making the pasta itself was also straightforward. Technically, everything was simple.

The difficulty lay elsewhere.

As I sat behind the wheel of my van, I made a firm decision: this is my work. I will not mix it with my private choices. The way of eating we had chosen was not a matter of life or death. If I ate pasta once a month, nothing terrible would happen. One should not be so harsh with oneself. This was a choice, not a punishment.

That conversation took place entirely in my own head.

I was proud of myself that throughout the working day, while cooking and serving, there was no temptation at all. But three portions of pasta came home with me.

And then I decided to eat one.

I told myself it would be a reward for perseverance. Afterwards, we would return to life without gluten.

And you know what?

I am glad it happened.

Because it turned out that my mind had elevated that dish to the level of a near-divine pleasure. I was expecting something extraordinary a rush of flavour, a culinary revelation. Instead… nothing of the sort occurred.

The pasta with my beloved spinach and gorgonzola sauce gave me neither joy nor the flavours I thought I had missed so deeply.

I was surprised. Disoriented.

But also relieved.

Because the inner child that had been stamping its foot, insisting it wanted what had been taken away, suddenly realised that it no longer needed it at all.

I remember thinking then that although I had given in to temptation, although my willpower had technically failed, I had still emerged victorious.

More than a year has passed since that day. We have served pasta many times in many companies since then. The temptation has never returned.

I still love my sauces.

We simply eat them with different accompaniments now.