Seven Hills

1896 Hyde Street, San Francisco, CA

The order: the Maccheronchelli. Handmade, chewy, sauce clinging like it’s got nowhere better to be. It’s the kind of pasta that makes you forget how far away Italy actually is. Rich, comforting, alive with the sharp tang of tomato and the earth of good olive oil. You sit there, fork halfway to your mouth, realizing this is what Italian food is supposed to be, something that punches you in the gut with memory, even if you’ve never set foot in Rome.