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Personally, I thought Coffee Prince had a marginally deeper, sweeter romance, and a more resolved ending than Pasta. Please don't hate me for it. But setting that aside, Pasta is about more than just the love two people have for each other, it's about the transforming power love can have. It's about how love transformed a shy and indecisive girl into a confident young woman and the meanest devil of a chef into a better man - one who sees his kitchen staff as people and not just tools. In turn, it shows how the transformation of two such people overflows into a wider family, in this case, the "family" of the restaurant La Sfera. The message is a powerful one, and the way it is delivered is as delicious as the food.

Well-conceived at its core, the series did still suffer from some seriously distracting flaws and wasted space. Former Miss South Korea Lee Ha-Nui, while a feast for the eyes, had the most inconsistent performance of the bunch, going from conceited rival to warm mentor, to guilt-ridden sinner, all within the space of one winter, yet we're supposed to believe that her character has been doing everything as a penance for her betrayal. The twist with their old mentor was a nice touch, but Ha-Nui's role would have been so much more believable had she not gone through the first 6 episodes looking like a scheming snake.

The Unnis, while funny and sympathetic when they get any screen time, were nonetheless poorly scripted, relegating what should have been a light-hearted, yet meaningful side plot into mere filler. *sigh* So disappointing. I really would have loved to have gotten to know these characters better. The fact that they were so shoved to the side through most of the series makes me wonder if the screenwriters suffered from the same misogyny that Chef was accused of in the beginning.

And now, the good stuff (and a few mild spoilers):

Kong Hyo-Jin was so adorable as Seo Yu-Keyong, I just wanted to put her in my pocket. Those waif-like eyes and that brilliant smile, combined with the way she just turned into a shy, quietly giggling schoolgirl when alone with Chef Choi, it is fully half of why this show was so enjoyable to watch. Without her, or an actress of her caliber, this series would have foundered. Lee Seon-Gyun was similarly brilliant as Chef Choi Hyeon-Wook, a man suspicious of all women because of a single betrayal, whose heart is melted and healed by the love he shares with Yu-Keyong. It's interesting to note that while we become very well-acquainted with Yu-Keyong's family, Chef Choi's family is never even mentioned. This deliberate dichotomy delivers an even sharper contrast between the head chef and his youngest cook, making each of them an even more perfect fit for the other.

The male staff of the kitchen were fairly believable, although the one we got to know the best - due mostly to the fact that he's the only one whose home we got to see - was Jeong Eun-Su. Delightfully sweet, sensitive, and dimwitted, his portrayal by Choi Jae-Hwan is some of the best supporting acting I've seen anywhere: Korean, British, Canadian, or American.

Also worthy of note was Alex, playing La Sfera's owner, Kim San, the epitome of a gracious loser and a man who's really too smooth and timid to win the love of the youngest female chef. Compared to the challenge of the kitchen, which is part of what draws Yu-Keyong to the culinary field, their hypothetical love would have seemed boring and ultimately unsatisfying to Yu-Keyong, as well as to the audience.

Plot-wise, the 2 goldfish in the wine glass represent Chef and Yu-Keyong circling around each other in the kitchen. Both of them are a little stupid in their own way, both are beautiful, and their environment is quite small and open to many watching eyes. It's as close to a perfect metaphor as I can remember. Along those same lines is the flowering cactus theme. According to one scene, cacti only bloom after years of drought, and only when they're on the verge of dying. This description is very apt of both the love life and professional life of Yu-Keyong, as both fully bloom for after slaving away for 3 years as La Sfera's kitchen assistant and spending most of the show fighting to be recognized by her peers as a true cook. The cactus blossom is also another metaphoric picture of our main couple, whereas Chef Choi's personality is mostly thick skin and spines, while Yu-Keyong's is comparably soft, flexible, and sweet. It's just one of the quietly brilliant little touches to their relationship that makes you realize how they complete each other.

The teacher-student relationship between Chef Choi and Yu-Keyong, combined with their romance not only makes for heated, passionate fights, but also for moments so cute, your computer just might morph into a kitten. While Chef nicknames Yu-Keyong "Goldfish" for her surprisingly simple way of thinking, it is that very quality which makes her so lovable, both to the audience and to Chef. It's also what makes her so seemingly fearless in the kitchen, trying and trying again, even when she's been yelled at 10 times in a single day for the same mistake. The real joke is that Yu-Keyong, because she is so single-minded, is nearly a perfect answer to the lament from My Fair Lady, "Why can't a woman be more like a man?" The way Yu-Keyong thinks is very linear, which, as any decent psychologist will tell you, is the way men think and is highly unusual for a woman. I confess ignorance as to whether this character trait of Pasta's heroine was directly inspired by My Fair Lady or if the relation is purely coincidental. Whatever the case, it's a subtle joke that's sure to appeal to Broadway babies everywhere.

The directing was very literally mouth-watering. Not an episode goes by without lots of shots of delicious-looking food, so be sure to at least have a snack on hand while watching. The restaurant La Sfera itself is a director's dream, with two stories, the second of which has a catwalk overlooking the main dining area, plus roof access and a skylight that looks down on both the second and first floors. From the broad streets of the Kangnam district, to the tiny back alleys of Yu-Keyong's home neighborhood, to the open-air markets and roadside eateries, the viewer is given glimpses of nearly every facet of Seoul. Most impressive is how the camera is used to capture moments of tender intimacy between Chef and his Goldfish. When the two of them are waiting at a harbor on the Eastern Sea for a ship to come in, when Chef finally confesses his feelings for Yu-Keyong, and when the two of them go to Eun-Soo's house to convince him about something...each of these scenes are simply filled with masterpiece images that make a grown man sigh for the beauty of it all.

And lastly, I must give my applause to the soundtrack department. While the music wasn't as eclectic as that of Coffee Prince or even My Lovely Sam-Soon, it was consistently utilized to great effect, and I found myself grinning like a fool whenever I heard the opening theme or the light, piano-driven waltz (a sample from the karaoke version of "Rooftop Moonlight" by Rooftop Moonlight or 옥상달빛 - 옥상달빛 in Hangul) used for so many of the romance scenes. By using various arrangements of a handful of songs, every mood and emotion is echoed and amplified throughout the series. Especially important to the soundtrack are both the music box and jazz arrangements of "Lucky Day" by Every Single Day and an inspiring, pride-filled battle march version of the old Scottish folk song "The Minstrel Boy." The stark tango "Romance Killer" wrings every bit of tension out of the more dramatic scenes, while "You're Cute" by After School melds loving sentiment with a little R&B groove to make romantic scenes more sensual without detracting from the innocent joy that suffuses the series.

My overall rating: 8 out of 10 stars. Immensely pleasurable to watch, but not perfect.

Find it on Viki now: Pasta