stinging nettle pasta, I think it was pasta

Hank Shaw’s recent post reminded me of a dish I had a couple years ago, which was, I am fairly sure, tagliatelle with nettles, garlic and olive oil. It was great. It was unique. It was unforgettable. I think we ate it kind of like this:

I don’t remember where we found the nettles, but that’s not important. What is important is that we failed to cook all the sting out of them.

There wasn’t a lot of sting—we hadn’t noticed it adjusting the seasoning—but after a few bites, we could feel the prickle on our tongues and lips. And then we became aware of the full length of our esophaguses. Which is a strange but not unpleasant thing; a thing that makes you sit up a little.

The effect was, in all, enlivening. It was a fine night. I think this year I’m going to try to do it again.