It’s mid-July in Mancaversa, and the sun splits the sky in the same place every day—just as piercing, just as unforgiving. I’m staying with my friend’s family for her dad’s birthday, and that morning, a generous seafood delivery arrived at their summer home. We set about preparing a birthday feast of frutti di mare.
I don’t remember the first time I tried octopus, only that I didn’t like it. The second time, I was dating a man in Italy who loved octopus and would order it any time he saw it on a menu. That’s when I realized I had been eating octopus wrong my whole life. I fell in love with how tender and quietly rich it could be, how versatile, too. Italians never seem to try too hard to pair food; they cook so well you don’t want anything else with it.
This is my take on octopus, inspired by the ways I’ve seen it cooked, and by the bright flavors of summertime in Italy.
