Italia

Italy is the country that made the rest of the world jealous of Tuesday night. A handful of tomatoes, a piece of guanciale, a wedge of cheese, water at a rolling boil — and a plate that people fly to Rome to eat. The cooking is regional to the point of argument: ragù is not Bolognese in Naples, carbonara admits no cream, pizza is a civic identity. What unites it is olive oil, wheat, and the conviction that ingredients, not the cook, should be famous.