A plate of creamy Alfredo and baked pasta in Virginia reminded me why food often feels like the simplest form of travel.
Sep 19, 2025 • min read
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Captured at Olive Garden Italian Kitchen, Virginia — proof that some journeys happen at the table.
Food is memory — and sometimes, it’s also travel.
At Olive Garden in Virginia, I sat down expecting a meal, but what arrived at the table felt like a small journey to Italy.
On one plate, creamy Alfredo pasta, smooth and rich, the kind that makes you slow down with every bite.
On the other, baked ziti with layers of cheese and sauce bubbling into each other, golden on top, tender underneath.
As a traveller, I’ve learned that food is often the quickest way to connect with a culture.
It doesn’t just fill you — it tells a story.
Here, in the middle of Virginia, I didn’t just taste pasta; I tasted warmth, comfort, and a piece of Italian tradition carefully served across the ocean.