Everything has its own time.

For 15 or so years, whenever my wife and I passed by a small Italian restaurant in Edmonds named Bucatini, she would say, “One day I’ll take you there.” I’d nod or just say, “Yeah,” and then I’d file it in my mental to-do list and delete it from memory.

Thursday, Bucatini was recalled from the to-do list. Maybe it was payday and I wanted to splurge a little. Maybe I wasn’t in the mood for pizza (not my favorite). Mostly, it was the official first day of summer and I really wanted to eat al fresco. So I blurted out, “How about Bucatini’s for dinner?”

Sandy said, “Sure, but I can make pizza at home.”

“Let’s do Bucatini’s,” I half-asked, half-pleaded.

Luckily, we arrived just before the dinner crowd. No one was at any outdoor table. We picked a spot hit by the afternoon sun, where we could hear Italian instrumentals playing through speakers. Nothing like 76 degrees, music and the promise of good food on a Friday eve.

The menu had Italian meals that were hard for this guy to say: Maiale Saltimbocca, Pappardelle Bolognese, Salsiccia Giovanni.

After a few minutes, Sandy chose Gamberi Con Pesto: Tiger prawns with roasted asparagus in a creamy basil pesto sauce, tossed with bucatini pasta.

I went with Bucatini Vongole: Clams in garlic, olive oil, white wine, lemon, and fresh herbs.

Fresh bread with a crunchy crust dipped in olive oil and balsamic vinegar was the precursor.

When the dishes arrived not soon after, we dug in. The prawns on Sandy’s plate were plump and covered with pasta, sauce and asparagus. “Lookit how big these are!” Sandy said as she picked up a prawn. She was kind enough to share with me.

The clams on my plate were fresh and cooked just right without being rubbery. The clams must have had fun simmering in butter and wine.

In both plates, the Bucatini pasta was thick: I’d say two to three times the thickness of spaghetti noodles you’d have at home. A carb-lover’s dream.

Against our better judgment, we finalized our visit with dessert: Torta Caprese — a flourless chocolate torte with homemade berry sauce. The rock-like torte was hard to crumble. I found myself pounding on it with my spoon. Gibraltar has nothing on this slab of culinary granite. But after a little persuasion, chunks of the dark chocolate came tumbling down on the red sauce. The sweetness of the sauce and the mild bitterness of the dark chocolate paired well.

Everything has its time. I’m glad all the elements came together Thursday night.

Bucatini is located at 9818 Edmonds Way, Edmonds.

— Story and photos by David Carlos