I don’t know where I first encountered fra diavolo sauce, but it’s my favorite thing. First, it’s fun to say: frah dee-AH-volo. (Please don’t @ me if that’s wrong. Ugh. It’s probably wrong and I’ve now tanked our growing Italian grandmother readership.) Second, it means devil monk. DEVIL MONK! That’s a Pokemon — not a pasta sauce. Third, it’s authentic Italian cuisine. (Definitely, provably wrong on that.) Fourth, it’s an amazing sauce. At least the versions I’ve had. But like any good _____-American dish, what even is it anyway? When I’ve had it, it’s been a thin, spicy tomato sauce. I used to think there was nothing better than a nice, chunky marinara or bolognese. But then I discovered this other definitely authentic Italian(-American) sauce and woke up from this dream in which I’d previously been living. It’s just — I like thin sauces and I cannot lie. (Sorry.) And this is Martina we’re talking about, so the rest is great, too. The noods are perfectly al dente, the lobster (LOBSTER!) mixed in is perfectly poached — the herbs are perfected herbed. The first time I had this I fainted into my bowl, because, I assume, my body thought I must be dead since heaven couldn’t be better than this pasta. But it isn’t heaven, it’s just Martina.