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High Voltaggio in Power Plant

High Voltaggio in Power Plant

It begins with a wisp of a breadstick shot through with fennel seed. Brittle and hard between your teeth, it shatters with just a little pressure, tasting like taralli, that chubby Italian pretzel-like snack, though this version is much more lithe and slender. Soon after, there’s bread—a spongy, garlicky, two-inch-thick hunk of focaccia—and a plate with two small pastel mounds, one milk-white, the other soft pink, like an icing rosebud. White reveals itself to be whipped ricotta (half cow’s milk, half sheep’s milk, you’re told) laced with the essence of lemon. Pink is salty, hammy, lush, the best mortadella you’ve ever had. Pureed into a paté,...

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