I’ve been on the island of Lipari for the last three days, resting up a bit, and passing Easter weekend in familiar surroundings. I rented a little room with a 4th-story terrace, and a kitchen, and I’ve been cooking again, with intermittent access (it’s the holy weekend) to markets and wine shops, many still peopled with the same folks I got to know when I passed four months here, almost 15 years ago.
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I had never thought of a cannolo (‘cannolo’ is one, ‘cannoli’ any number higher than that) as an artisanal product before, not remotely. To be honest, I never much think of cannoli at all, their flavour has always been too sweet and rich for me. (I’ve always appreciated Hemingway’s saying, that dessert is for people that don’t drink enough).
More...From Palermo, and if you happen to be on an over-loaded bicycle, you’ll only need a few hours to reach a little town called Carini. You could easily miss it if you weren’t looking out for it. And if you weren’t expected. We were. We had an appointment.
More...I think we’re all guilty of it — assuming that Sicily is always a bit behind the rest of Italy. I live in the South and even I do it. I couldn’t have been more wrong though, especially with what is happening in Ragusa.
More...Feudo Arancio feels like a New World winery, a four-year-old, massive city-block of a building, modelled after a cloister, located on top of a beautiful hill in a part of Sicily that could be anywhere in the world. That’s assuming, of course, you’re in stunning, rolling wine country, the sleepy horizon broken only with olive, orange, lemon and Cyprus trees.
More...There are very few cities I love more than Trapani. The place feels like a series of escalating good news. The city is on peninsula, the whole thing built on rock on sand. Turn a corner and where you expect the next street to be you find bobbing blue boats, their hulls waxy from fresh, sky-blue paint. Trapani is architecturally stunning, with a whisper of the baroque that puts me right at home.
More...Within walking distance of the charming historical centre of Marsala, two wineries exist, virtually side by side. All you have to do is walk the pretty-purple-flowered, white-capped coast down to the port, then hang a left and you’ll find the wines of Marsala, old and new. The only problem is trying to decide which is which: one is Florio, making hyper-traditional Marsala, albeit with new, high-end packaging.
More...When the fall arrives in Salento, familiar fruits and vegetables come with it, like old friends that have left town and returned again. Faces light up. There is lots of smiling, happy greetings. ‘We’ll have to have you around for dinner, now that you’re back and all’, folks seem to say, loading up their shopping baskets.
More...It’ll be time to make the annual tomato sauce. I love it so much that I volunteer my services to anyone and everyone that will have me. I could be yours for a plate a pasta, a few sauteed snails and the contents of a reused water bottle of local malvasia.
More...Today started with a sloppy banging sound on the school’s library window. It was supposed to be a knock, but the person out in the street was clearly using more the palm versus knuckles. I recognised her hand immediately. It was Annalisa, panicky over the huge quantity of grape must beginning to ferment in the back of her car.
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