One has to wonder, when eating in Rome.

It was day seven of our ten-day trip. Leaving New York City the day before Sandy hit, we trekked across the ocean to Rome, Italy. We didn’t stay in the city at this point, but jumped on another plane and ventured to Athens, another glorious place.

After four wonderful days in Greece, we returned to Rome. Our schedule buzzed with sights again; the Vatican, St. Peter’s Basilica, the Colosseum, salted with the flavor of wonderful people. It was amazing.

However, that wasn’t all we did. We had supernatural occurrences take place in this ancient city. The team we traveled with, which numbered a little over a hundred that went with Marilyn Hickey Ministries, held healing meetings in a Christian church. It was marvelous laying hands on these dear ones.

What about, was it the love or the pasta? I’m getting to that.

Initially, we were to have three dinners on our own in Rome. The first night we arrived was easy enough as we reached our destination late, tired as dogs. We grabbed a bite at the hotel that night as the location wasn’t close to restaurants. The next two nights we would have to take taxis, and for this size of a group, it would probably resemble a long, yellow entourage.

Then, something happened. The morning of our first meeting, we were informed of an invitation from the church for dinner. Following the service, they dismantled rows of chairs and set up tables, with cloths. We sat, astonished, as they whisked paper plates teeming with hot pasta to the entire group. Our eyes lit, and we gratefully enjoyed the most delicious dish. We sat, satisfied, and then noticed another set of plates delivered to our tables. A second course of meatloaf and salad came. Their faces beamed with smiles. I looked up, hardly able to take another bite, and saw a tray filled with dessert cups of chocolate and whipped cream. The dinner was a showcase of Italian cuisine. What a treat for all of us, and they would do this the next night too.

The best pasta I’ve eaten was in Rome. However, was it the love, or the pasta?