I have fond memories of Septembers in the Sila mountains of Calabria spent leisurely lounged on green-and-red checkered blankets along the shores of Lake Cecita, breathing in the clear, silent air. Ever since I was a child, each day here followed a similar pattern: strolling through the charmed streets of Camigliatello, dining at a local restaurant, and falling asleep amidst the tall trees.

While I was infatuated with the tranquility, sights, and the Christmas-gnome-filled storefronts, I was less infatuated with the dish that seemed to be on every menu: cheese and potatoes. Yawn. My mother, always the wise one, would say, “You have to try them. How else will you know if you don’t like them?”