You’ll need to start this dish a few days early.

First, take a leisurely Saturday late-morning walk up via Carini. Stop for a coffee at Dolci Desideri with your partner, mother-in-law, and dog. Watch the neighborhood go by.

Walk up to the fish store you’ve been meaning to try and realize that it’s closed; try to go to the fresh pasta and cookie store (yes, this is one place, and it’s as great as it sounds) and realize that it’s closed, too.

Stroll to the open-air produce market that you love, the one that makes you happy whenever you go there. Linger at the fish stall and marvel at how quickly they gut and fillet your fish. Run into a colleague and her family and admire her new baby. Make your way to your favorite produce stall and debate what type of and how many tomatoes to buy. Tell the vendors that you want a few nectarines to eat today and a few for later. Grab a bundle of Lazio asparagus, even though you don’t have plans for it, just because it’s been so good and is almost the end of the season. Miscommunicate with the vendors, so that instead of the sprig or two of basil you thought you were getting (because you can’t buy tomatoes in Roma without also having basil or parsley or both thrown in), you end up with a handful of fresh herbs—basil, parsley, sage, oregano, dill, maybe some fennel fronds—two small onions, and a carrot.

Second, plan a Sunday day trip to Orvieto with your partner and in-laws, only to have it cancelled because there’s a train strike (even though Trenitalia said nothing about it and let you purchase tickets for the day of planned strike). Go sit in a café to figure out what to do instead, and hit on a plan to go to Eataly, because what is more quintessentially Italian than an almost literal pantheon to Italian food? Don’t forget to feel so exhausted from travel and work and getting up early to work out that you think you’re getting sick and decide to skip Eataly in favor of going home for a nap. Tell your partner and in-laws to grab a few things for dinner—shrimp, zucchini—so that you can throw something together quickly.

Take a nap.

Let everyone come home enthusing about Eataly and all its wonders, and so full from their lunch that you decide to just have a salad.

Third, work from home on Monday so that you can take care of the dog while everyone else goes to Orvieto. Surprising no one, their return train is delayed, so your partner doesn’t have time to grab any fresh sweet corn (what you were originally going to have with the shrimp, zucchini, and pasta), and be too lazy to run out to the market to search for some. Instead, think quickly: asparagus will work fine with the dinner you’d planned.

Fourth, put a pot of water on to boil. Finely dice a few cloves of garlic and one of the small onions from the produce market. Cube the zucchini, chop the asparagus, and devein the shrimp.

Sauté the garlic and onions in a generous glug of olive oil; add the zucchini and asparagus. Add the pasta to the boiling water. Chop up the random herbs from the market and throw them in; decide the dish looks like it needs something else and add the half jar of pesto you had in the refrigerator. When the vegetables and pasta are nearly done, lower the eat, add the shrimp, and cook them gently. Toss all to combine.

Finally, give the weary travellers a glass of wine and sit them at the table on your terrace. It’ll be hot later this week, but for now, it’s still cool in the evenings and there’s plenty of light for an early (for Rome) eight o’clock dinner. Horrify your in-laws by making everyone serve themselves from the stove, rather than dirtying another bowl to serve at the table. Drizzle your pasta with good olive oil, and sprinkle it with salt and pepper. Dig in to find it far more delicious than you’d hoped. Enjoy it as you enjoy the company of loved ones, gathered around your table.

(Not recommended: taking the leftovers to work in a non-leak-proof container, which of course does leak, so that you end up with shrimp juice all over the bottom of your backpack.)