I’ve always struggled with gnocchi and it bothers me. In theory, it should be one of my favorite things to eat. It’s a carbtastrophy of starchy-goodness that serves as a vessel for Italian gravies, pestos, and creamy sauces. It’s a potato-centric blank slate, so why have I never really fallen in love with a plate of gnocchi? I love potatoes. I love pasta. Why does gnocchi make me feel nothing? I resolved to remedy the confusion the only way I knew how—making my own damn gnocchi.