The alarm sounds off at 8:00 and we slowly wake up. The advantage of an excellent Italian hotel is that we are able to close every possible window and keep any hint of sunlight out of the room. We open the curtain and push the electronic button to raise the shade and the sun starts to stream into the room. It is cloudy day, but the earlier darkness is replaced with a new day. We enjoy another light breakfast at the hotel. Eating earlier means that we encounter more hotel guests and eavesdrop on their plans. Hearing nothing better than our own plan, we decide to stick it to take the ferry to Capri for the day.
After breakfast, Bill is off to the telephone store to complete his internet purchase and Austin, Norma and Suzy head off to find souvenirs in Sorrento. And souvenirs are exactly what a city like Sorrento is made for. One little stand after another with aprons, inexpensive ceramics and postcards. We find treats for everyone as we wander the streets. On our way back to the hotel we pass the Duomo Santi Fillipo e Giacomo and walk in. The church is not nearly as impressive as the ones we have seen earlier this week the simple façade is a result of modern construction. The choir stalls behind the altar are a beautiful demonstration of the local wooden inlaid artwork. There are a few paintings from the 16th and 17th century, but the church is not massive. A small group local woman are busily cleaning the individual altars and we remember that each church has its own special significance.
We meet back at the hotel and assemble on the hotel’s back terrace, which faces the Bay of Naples and is perched a hundred feet above the city’s marina. There we take a tiny elevator directly from the hotel to the port below. The elevator is small and shaky and halfway down we regret having stepped on, but soon afterwards the doors open. For some reason the elevator does not stop at ground level; instead we have to take stairs another flight down to the marina. The 11:45 ferry is about to leave, so we race to the dock and catch it, headed for the Island of Capri. The skies are a little gray but the view is still breathtaking as we head out. It is a perfect opportunity to see the sheerness of the cliffs and how the buildings are built directly into the side of the mountain. The ride is about 20 minutes and the wind is a bit chilly but we insist on enjoying the view from up top of the boat.
When we arrive we are greeted with a touristy dock of stands where you can buy tickets for boat rides, gelato, tacky souvenirs and guided tours. We head to buy tickets for the funiculare which is a straight ride up to the mountain to Capri town. The tickets are easy to buy but when we get to the funiculare it is locked up tight. We ask next door and they tell us to use our tickets to take the small orange bus to the top. We board the crowded bus and are treated to a wild ride on a windy narrow road.
When we get to the top we are ready for a break to catch our breath. The combination of the fast ride, the narrow road and buses passing on the opposite side have worn us out. As we enjoy our coffee and hot chocolate we read through the guide book of all that we should see. Fuhgetaboutit. It is time to enjoy Capri. The view from the main piazza is amazing. The sheer cliffs and the color of the sea below are a perfect combination. We wander the streets, enjoying the amazing collection of high end Italian shops throughout this tiny town – all of which are empty and opening again in March of 2007. Not a sale to be had, just empty. There are a few dedicated shops that are open, little perfumeries and clothing stores. We walk past gorgeous hotels and restaurants – all closed. We finally stumble upon the Canfora shoe store which is fortunately still open. Amadeo Canfora snc, Via Camerelle 3, 80073 Capri (NA) Italy, (39) 081.837.0487, www.canfora.com. In addition to a delightful collection of sandals, Canfora hand makes the Capri sandals made famous by many celebrities, most notably Jackie Onassis. We (Suzy) try on several pairs and finally ask if they have a certain style in her size. No problem – they can make them on the spot. She tries several bases and then we wait as they attach the straps she has chosen. After a few adjustments, they fit like a glove! The final alterations are made and we walk out with a perfect pair of sandals. I’m sure Suzy will be mistaken for Jackie Onassis or Sophia Loren when she wears them.
Fortunately the shoe shop has called around and found a restaurant that is open for lunch. We walk through the streets finishing our window shopping and never find an open restaurant. We go back to the main piazza and head down several side streets (not quite understanding the directions but knowing that somewhere there is an open restaurant). The Ristorante Buca di Bacco, Via Longana 35, is a sight for sore eyes. It has a small dining room with a little window looking out onto the water. We settle into our table and order aqua frizzante and naturale and a bottle of the local Aglianico red wine. While the pastas and seafood entrees look amazing we are all delighted to try the pizzas. Bill has the DOC, the authorized pizza with tomato and mozzarella, Norma has pizza with champignon mushrooms, Austin has pizza diavalo – spicy salami, and Suzy has the Siciliana – with tomato, mozzarella and eggplant. We split a mixed green salad and decide that since we are on the isle of Capri it is important to try the Caprese salad – sliced tomatoes and fresh mozzarella. It is a perfect light, relaxing lunch and we enjoy almost every bite debating whether the restaurants in Italy should offer doggie bags so that we can enjoy more later or whether it is better to start over again at every meal. We all clean our plates so the discussion becomes a moot point. We finish with coffee and grappa.
We continue our window shopping – Bill’s favorite since everything is closed and all we can do is look and dream. We follow a little side street to get some shots of the water and then head up through tiny narrow streets. After a little way we realize we have no idea where we are and through the narrow maze it is impossible to do more than continue to follow the signs to Belvedere Cannone. The streets becomes steeper and steeper but we are committed and don’t turn back. We wind around corner after corner and go up higher and higher wishing that we were in better shape. Huffing and puffing we finally we arrive at a dead end, saved only by the fact that it is a beautiful view of the cliffs and the island from way up high (no surprise given the walk we have just taken.) Everybody snaps shot after shot – the boats sitting in the water, the sun setting, the trees, the houses built into the side of the cliffs – there is no limit to the number of spectacular shots we can get. Finally we remember that we have a ferry to catch, so it’s off we go. Downhill seems much easier than the uphill trip – we make a few turns and find a flight of stairs which leads us right to the bus turnaround. We buy tickets and quickly board the little orange bus with ten minutes to spare to catch our 4:25 ferry. Yeah right. The bus keeps waiting for passengers and despite the hair raising speed at which we descend the mountain, we arrive on the dock just as the ferry is leaving. We take deep relaxing breathes, remembering that we are on vacation with no set schedule and begin to check out the little souvenir shops along the water – nothing impressive although we can’t resist buying a few t-shirts and knick knacks. We settle in at a little bar gelateria and wait for the 5:25 ferry.
The ferry is more crowded on the way back. The last ferry leaves at 6:25 and the boat seems to have a larger share of locals returning from work and fewer tourists. Despite the drizzle and the breeze we settle in on the top deck for the ride back. We are entertained the entire ride by five young wise guys who holler at each other, wrestle, slap and generally carry on until the ferry is tying up in Sorrento.
We are all tired but decide a little walk before dinner is in order. Its almost 8:30 but the shops are still open and we wander in and out finding a few essential items to bring home. We are limited in our restaurant choices because so many are closed for the season. We opt not to eat sandwiches at a bar on the Piazza Tasso and head instead for a little garden restaurant we had passed this morning. The interior is full of plants and flowers making it a perfect indoor garden. We decide on pasta and vegetables for dinner. Not a traditional Italian meal – but this restaurant doesn’t seem to have too many rules. The pastas are adequate but not remarkable. Norma has the ravioli stuffed with cheese and served with tomato sauce; Suzy has the combination ravioli, pacchieri and conchiglia with mozzarella and tomato baked; Austin has the pasta carbonara spaghetti with bacon, egg and cheese; and Bill has a light bowl of minestrone. We also order grilled mushrooms, sautéed spinach, fried artichokes and fried zucchini flowers. The flowers are not in season, so we are not surprised when we are served fried dough balls with tiny bits of zucchini flowers in them. The food is perfect for the night. Not inspired, but a great atmosphere and an attentive server. Austin and Norma call it quits and leave Bill and Suzy to enjoy their coffee and grappa on their own.
As we turn in for the night, we reflect on how special a place Capri seems to be, even off season and how the relaxing uneventful day was a perfect antidote for the previous day’s day from Hell.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Day 6 - Gragnano - Castelammare di Stabia - Sorrento
Every trip has at least one day from Hell and we can only hope that this one is our only. That this is the nadir. Because if it gets any more dreadful than today, we should consider packing up our bags and heading home!
The day starts off on a decent note. We sleep a bit later than planned, which is especially nice for Austin and Norma who have just arrived from the U.S. We meet in the breakfast room at 9:45, just minutes before they close and are treated to a wonderful buffet of meats, cheeses and fresh fruits. In addition, there is an American breakfast table complete with eggs, bacon and various cold cereals. We eat light and have extra servings of the thick hot coffee with milk. With internet access limited to the one hotel computer, we all take an opportunity to check back on important matters at home. (Go Gators!)
We begin our day in earnest around noon, headed for the town of Gragnano, which is known across Italy as the country’s premier pasta making town. We are looking forward to seeing the production of pasta, meeting a few suppliers and having a memorable meal of Gragnano pasta at a charming osteria. We leave our secluded little compound, which is connected to the main square in Sorrento by a private garden and emerge into the bustle of the Sorrentine Peninsula. Traffic in Sorrento is abysmal, alternately jammed to a crawl and then lurching forward, with whiny Vespas zipping in and out to keep you on your toes. The whole traffic pattern and street layout seems to have been designed by someone with a pathological dislike of straight lines, opting instead for manic swirls and violent turns, up steep hills and plunging down even steeper ravines. The weather, however, is nice, with bright sunshine and cool air.
Daylight reveals terrain that we were unable to see the day before as arrived in Sorrento after dark. It is for the most part an ugly landscape of soulless modern but rundown cities, connected together by windy roads, which stands in stark contrast to the overwhelming beauty of the cliffs that fall off into the clear blue Mediterranean. The absolute nadir of this drive is the repulsive town of Castelammare di Stabbia, a town totally lacking in Italian charm and, unfortunately, one which we seem to drive through forever. The icing on this most inedible cake is the enormous piles of garbage, some of which stretch for an entire city block, and that leap into view around nearly every corner. We can only imagine that the local garbage workers are on strike, hoping against hope that this situation is temporary. After a while the mountains of trash begin to lose their shock value and we even begin to see beauty in the various colored trashbags, the slope of these moutains, an occasional special item to attract the attention. We even stop to take pictures, selecting only the best trash piles, while turning our noses up on mere garbage piles. Our son Austin take a particularly artistic shot of one collection, which he dubs “EuroTrash.” A budding photographic career is born.
After an eternity we arrive in Gragnano and pull right in to a parking spot, just like they do in the movies. We walk up and down the street noticing several small shops and bakeries that are open, but as we find the doors for the pasta shops they are locked up as tight as a drum. We find, too, that the main (read only decent) restaurant in town is closed on Wednesdays, so we decide to drive a little further up the mountain to find a nice spot for lunch, preferably with a view, and then return around 3:00 or 4:00 when the shops should be open.
Thus begins our journey half way to the sun. We climb the mountain, following sign after sign for pizzerias, trattorias and restaurants. Each time our efforts are rewarded with a closed establishment, most of them shut down for the winter, with drop cloths over the tables and doors chained shut. We press on, following the narrow road higher and higher into the countryside, past run down villages, grand hotels (closed for the season), parked buses (parked for the season) until we decide that going on is futile. Our assumption, our belief, our fervent hope that someone in this region must eat out somewhere occasionally has been proven wrong. We admit defeat and head back down the mountain, alighting after an hour at the single restaurant has shown any signs of life. It is located in, you guessed it, Castelammare di Stabia.
The port area in Castelammare is rough and rundown looking, but our restaurant, il Dubbio, is like finding a needle in a haystack, or rather a jewel in a trash heap. Despite the late hour, they welcome us in and we happily take our seats. We are rewarded with a wonderful plate of octopus salad and spaghetti frutti di mare and dentice (snapper with a potato sauce.
After lunch we get back in the car (clearly a mistake) and head back up the mountain to Gragnano, passing some of our favorite junk heaps only to find that the famed pasta shops, including one described as a “pasta university” are not reopening this day. Everything is locked up still – perhaps they are closed on Wednesday afternoons. It only makes sense on a day like today.
So, we begin the long, slow drive back to Sorrento. A drive always seems shorter when you have achieved your goal for the day. Today is no such day. We make a quick stop just outside of Sorrento where there is a local produce market which is just closing – we stock up on oranges and apples and take a quick walk around, mostly just for the fresh air.
We return to the Excelsior Vittoria, thinking we will take a few minutes to relax before dinner, but decide instead to make a quick dash to the phone store before it closes to see if they have a high speed wireless internet access card that might solve our internet access problem. With mounting excitement we are shown the very answer to our technological prayers, a UMTS/HSDPA card from Telecom Italia. It does everything we want relatively cheaply. Now we will have the ability to check our emails, read the news and post our trip reports on time. Only one glitch, however. It cannot be activated until tomorrow. On a day like today, however, even this delay seems like a major victory.
While Norma has wisely decided to call it a night we head out with Austin in search of a light dinner. The front desk calls the Trattoria Tasso to make sure they are open and after a great recommendation of their pizzas we head out. The restaurant is enormous – in the summer it is probably filled to the seams, but tonight we are just one of 5 or 6 tables. The waiter is friendly and we order a pizza capricciosa, mushrooms, cooked ham and artichokes, and a pizza with spicy salami and a pasta from Gragnano (we are still determined to try the pasta) with a tomato fish sauce. One salad to share and we still have too much food. The restaurant begins to get more crowded as the evening goes on. We arrived just after 9:00 and it seems that we are on the early side. The food is good and we have a lot of laughs and head home to get a good nights sleep.
Perhaps tomorrow our luck will change.
The day starts off on a decent note. We sleep a bit later than planned, which is especially nice for Austin and Norma who have just arrived from the U.S. We meet in the breakfast room at 9:45, just minutes before they close and are treated to a wonderful buffet of meats, cheeses and fresh fruits. In addition, there is an American breakfast table complete with eggs, bacon and various cold cereals. We eat light and have extra servings of the thick hot coffee with milk. With internet access limited to the one hotel computer, we all take an opportunity to check back on important matters at home. (Go Gators!)
We begin our day in earnest around noon, headed for the town of Gragnano, which is known across Italy as the country’s premier pasta making town. We are looking forward to seeing the production of pasta, meeting a few suppliers and having a memorable meal of Gragnano pasta at a charming osteria. We leave our secluded little compound, which is connected to the main square in Sorrento by a private garden and emerge into the bustle of the Sorrentine Peninsula. Traffic in Sorrento is abysmal, alternately jammed to a crawl and then lurching forward, with whiny Vespas zipping in and out to keep you on your toes. The whole traffic pattern and street layout seems to have been designed by someone with a pathological dislike of straight lines, opting instead for manic swirls and violent turns, up steep hills and plunging down even steeper ravines. The weather, however, is nice, with bright sunshine and cool air.
Daylight reveals terrain that we were unable to see the day before as arrived in Sorrento after dark. It is for the most part an ugly landscape of soulless modern but rundown cities, connected together by windy roads, which stands in stark contrast to the overwhelming beauty of the cliffs that fall off into the clear blue Mediterranean. The absolute nadir of this drive is the repulsive town of Castelammare di Stabbia, a town totally lacking in Italian charm and, unfortunately, one which we seem to drive through forever. The icing on this most inedible cake is the enormous piles of garbage, some of which stretch for an entire city block, and that leap into view around nearly every corner. We can only imagine that the local garbage workers are on strike, hoping against hope that this situation is temporary. After a while the mountains of trash begin to lose their shock value and we even begin to see beauty in the various colored trashbags, the slope of these moutains, an occasional special item to attract the attention. We even stop to take pictures, selecting only the best trash piles, while turning our noses up on mere garbage piles. Our son Austin take a particularly artistic shot of one collection, which he dubs “EuroTrash.” A budding photographic career is born.
After an eternity we arrive in Gragnano and pull right in to a parking spot, just like they do in the movies. We walk up and down the street noticing several small shops and bakeries that are open, but as we find the doors for the pasta shops they are locked up as tight as a drum. We find, too, that the main (read only decent) restaurant in town is closed on Wednesdays, so we decide to drive a little further up the mountain to find a nice spot for lunch, preferably with a view, and then return around 3:00 or 4:00 when the shops should be open.
Thus begins our journey half way to the sun. We climb the mountain, following sign after sign for pizzerias, trattorias and restaurants. Each time our efforts are rewarded with a closed establishment, most of them shut down for the winter, with drop cloths over the tables and doors chained shut. We press on, following the narrow road higher and higher into the countryside, past run down villages, grand hotels (closed for the season), parked buses (parked for the season) until we decide that going on is futile. Our assumption, our belief, our fervent hope that someone in this region must eat out somewhere occasionally has been proven wrong. We admit defeat and head back down the mountain, alighting after an hour at the single restaurant has shown any signs of life. It is located in, you guessed it, Castelammare di Stabia.
The port area in Castelammare is rough and rundown looking, but our restaurant, il Dubbio, is like finding a needle in a haystack, or rather a jewel in a trash heap. Despite the late hour, they welcome us in and we happily take our seats. We are rewarded with a wonderful plate of octopus salad and spaghetti frutti di mare and dentice (snapper with a potato sauce.
After lunch we get back in the car (clearly a mistake) and head back up the mountain to Gragnano, passing some of our favorite junk heaps only to find that the famed pasta shops, including one described as a “pasta university” are not reopening this day. Everything is locked up still – perhaps they are closed on Wednesday afternoons. It only makes sense on a day like today.
So, we begin the long, slow drive back to Sorrento. A drive always seems shorter when you have achieved your goal for the day. Today is no such day. We make a quick stop just outside of Sorrento where there is a local produce market which is just closing – we stock up on oranges and apples and take a quick walk around, mostly just for the fresh air.
We return to the Excelsior Vittoria, thinking we will take a few minutes to relax before dinner, but decide instead to make a quick dash to the phone store before it closes to see if they have a high speed wireless internet access card that might solve our internet access problem. With mounting excitement we are shown the very answer to our technological prayers, a UMTS/HSDPA card from Telecom Italia. It does everything we want relatively cheaply. Now we will have the ability to check our emails, read the news and post our trip reports on time. Only one glitch, however. It cannot be activated until tomorrow. On a day like today, however, even this delay seems like a major victory.
While Norma has wisely decided to call it a night we head out with Austin in search of a light dinner. The front desk calls the Trattoria Tasso to make sure they are open and after a great recommendation of their pizzas we head out. The restaurant is enormous – in the summer it is probably filled to the seams, but tonight we are just one of 5 or 6 tables. The waiter is friendly and we order a pizza capricciosa, mushrooms, cooked ham and artichokes, and a pizza with spicy salami and a pasta from Gragnano (we are still determined to try the pasta) with a tomato fish sauce. One salad to share and we still have too much food. The restaurant begins to get more crowded as the evening goes on. We arrived just after 9:00 and it seems that we are on the early side. The food is good and we have a lot of laughs and head home to get a good nights sleep.
Perhaps tomorrow our luck will change.
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
Day 5 - Bari - Rome - Sorrento
We wake to a gray sky – perfect to match our mood because today we leave Puglia. Our room at the hotel is in a separate building across the street from the main hotel and while we have enjoyed our room and our balcony we decide to have our morning coffee in the hotel and check it out. The breakfast room is empty and we have our choice of tables next to an enormous plate glass window. The view is spectacular. The water is rougher and the waves are crashing up on the cliffs. It is a beautiful spot to drink our coffee.
We leave Polignano a Mare and drive to Bari to catch our flight to Rome. Flying internally in Italy is very efficient and can be inexpensive. It is important to remember that you can only check two bags and that you are limited to a baggage weight of 20 kilos per person. Of course our bags are already too heavy and we are told we will be charged an additional 5euros per kilo. We scramble to move our heavier items into our carry-on and lower the weight being checked. Unfortunately we have forgotten the new laws regarding liquids and when going through security we have to say goodbye to our shampoo and other cosmetics.
We fly into Rome, pickup our rental car and wait for our son Austin and Norma (who pretty much runs Bella Italia) to arrive. Their flight from London is slightly delayed and it seems their baggage is the last to arrive, but finally they emerge from the baggage pickup and we head straight for Sorrento. We have scouted out this drive earlier – going as far as Naples and are confident we will make good time. The road is fast and traffic is light. We stop at an Autogrill for sandwiches and a coffee and despite their best intentions to admire the views along the way, both Austin and Norma drift in and out of sleep. And then it happens, somewhere just past Naples we make a wrong turn, following what should be a major highway that turns out to be a different major highway, unfortunately heading away from Sorrento. We double check the map and can’t figure where the mistake was made but it seems from the tiny rental car company map that if we continue on we can just go for a tiny bit on a small road (shown in yellow) and connect back with the major autostrada without losing much time. This is a big mistake. NEVER go on a little small road, even for a little bit, especially on the Sorrentine Peninsula, the Amalfi Coast or anywhere in the mountains. If it is not green or red on the map, stay away. Yellow is not the color of caution in Italy, it is a toxic color. Invariably when our Italian friends give us directions they always seem to loop us around on the autostrada even when it seems clear on the map that there is a much more direct route on a slightly smaller road. There is a good reason to never use the little roads – they don’t necessarily connect to anything, sometimes they just end and they are always slow. We wind around and around as traffic on this little one lane road becomes heavier and heavier and goes in and out of one little town after another. What looked like about a five minute drive on this road turns into a very frustating hour and we finally drive over the A3 and loop around for another 15 minutes before we arrive at the entrance. As we near the coast, the road becomes narrower, and the descending darkness and unbelievably heavy traffic make it a nightmare scenario. We drive steadily on and the 11 kilometers to Sorrento takes almost 45 minutes. It is too dark to enjoy the view, but as we drive up and down through the cliffs we are anxious for what we will see in the morning light.
It is off season in Sorrento, which like the towns along the Amalfi Coast on the other side of the peninsula is a town. Much of the area is shut down during the winter and we have had to look at almost 20 hotels to find one that was open this week. After exhaustive research and much phone calling we have booked a couple of nice rooms at the five star Hotel Grand Excelsior Vittoria. While the summer is beautiful in Sorrento the prices are much less expensive and the crowds very small in January. We check in to a very quiet hotel and are lead to our rooms which have an unbelievable seaview. The hotel, which like many luxury hotels in Italy (at least in our limited experience), has a stiff, formal feel to it, but it is located high above the ferry dock and has a commanding view of Gulf of Naples. Before dinner we take advantage of the chilled bottle of Prosecco left in our room and sit on the balcony watching the ferry return from Capri as the lights of Naples flicker in the distance.
We take a small walk before dinner to get a sense of the town. The shops are all familiar and are still open at 8:00pm. We stop at the restaurant recommended by the hotel and are not impressed with the façade or the menu presentation out front. But we are tired and there is a good crowd of people inside so we wander in. We sit downstairs next to an animated group of American college students. The waiter is impatient with us but warms up as Bill speaks to him in his best Italian. For Austin and Norma it is a lot of food, but after yesterday, it feels like a small snack. Bill and I have pasta with shellfish, Norma tries the housemade gnocchi with tomato sauce and Austin has the mushroom risotto. Before the pasta arrives the waiters appears with a plate of baked dough fresh from the wood burning oven drizzled in olive oil. What a great treat! The fresh fish is a sea bass which we have grilled, Norma has the local sausage grilled and Austin is treated to a plate of fried fish. We clean our plates and truly pass up the offer of dessert. We have just enough room for a coffee and a grappa, which we quaff before returning to the Excelsior Vittoria and put this rather dull day of traveling behind us.
Monday, January 8, 2007
Day 4 - Altamura-Gioia del Colle
Warning: In our previous installments we have described brief moments in which we eat. Today’s installment is all about the food. Most people would probably save one culinary adventure per day. We have (wisely or unwisely) attempted to cram many into a single day. Such is life in Puglia, a bountiful region with hundreds of miles of coastline surrounding this peninsula which accounts for its wealth of seafood, greater olive, grape and wheat production than any other region in Italy, and a host of indigenous pastas, cheeses and meats. For travelers such as we it is both a blessing and a curse. A visit here awakens the culinary imagination and quickens the gastronomic pulse. Unfortunately it also threatens to expand the corporeal waistline. Perhaps a three day visit is not just what the doctor ordered, but at least it is something the doctor can object to.
We awake to the gentle lapping of the ocean against the cliffs below our window, but today the sun is not so bright. The skies are gray and rain clouds dart in and out. But the temperature is mild, perhaps 50 degrees, a veritable heatwave compared to the freezing, snowy weather we encountered here last February.
We drive to Gioia del Colle to meet Angelo, who will be our guide for the entire day, retracing the route by which we left him the night before. On the map the road from Gioia to Polignano looks simple enough. One heads east to the coast through the towns of Putignano (a town renowned throughout Italy for its production of wedding dresses), Castellana Grotte and then to Polignano a Mare. The previous evening we had not trouble finding Putignano, even in the dark. We smartly made our way from Putignano to Castellana Grotte without incident. However, it is a massive understatement to say that you simply drive from Castellana Grotte to Polignano to complete your trip. Somewhere along the way you slip into a parallel universe, a bizzaro world if you will, where your vehicle is powerless to drive in a straight line, uncontrollably turning right and then left, then right again, spiraling in ever tighter circles until the center cannot hold. You have entered the Castellana Grotte zone and although this town cannot possibly boast of a population of more than 20,000, you spend easily half an hour zigging and zagging to navigate through it. Entering the town from the northwest, you emerge an eternity later what seems like 50 yards away from your starting point, happily leaving this breaker of men’s spirits in the rearview mirror. If there was ever an argument for a beltway or bypass spur, certainly Castellana Grotte is the posterchild for it. Fifty years from now Castellana Grotte will have its own chapter in urban planning textbooks used at the finest institutions of public policy.
We meet Angelo in Gioia , kissing the ground as we pile into his car and begin our drive toward Santeramo, where we will meet the aunt of Filippo Mancino, our supplier of extravirgin olive oil. Filippo and Angelo have been kid enough to arrange for us to watch fresh mozzarella being made and Filippo’s aunt, who runs a farm just outside of Santeramo, has been making this signature cheese her entire lifetime. The drive is beautiful, with olive trees stretching into infinity and small stone fences lining the road. As we descend from the Murge, the plateau on which Gioia del Colle is situated, onto the plain that stretches into neighboring Basilicata, the terrain becomes rocky and then lush. The rain has given up and bits of sun occasionally stream through the gray sky.
We are greeted warmly by Filippo’s aunt a farm woman in her fifties and her eighty year old mother who moves with ease and who sports soft, ageless skin (it must be the mozzarella!). We are led into their kitchen which is connected to the cheese making area, a small sanitary area with some sterile metal cans and other devices for making various cheeses. Our mozzarella today, however, is a decidedly low tech affair. A simple plastic tub, filled with briny water is sitting on a stool and next to it, on a wooden table is a thick white mass the consistency of cottage cheese but smooth rather than lumpy. This mass will in a few moments become mozzarella, and has been made from a mixture of the previous evening’s milk and this morning’s milk from the farm’s cows. The milks have been heated to a temperature of 40 degrees celsius and rennet has been added. (When we ask about rennet we are told it is not a very “nice” ingredient. It comes only from the stomach of baby calves who are still drinking their mother’s milk. We are not quite clear how it is extracted from the cow, but we really don’t want to know.) The heated milk has been left to drain and has now settled into the light paste that is before us. The Aunt uses a knife to cut through the paste, mixing it up by cutting it (we are told that the word mozzarella comes from the old Italian mozzare which means to cut) and then placing it in a large bowl where her mother pours hot water over it. Using a long, flat, wooden paddle the cheese is rolled and pressed, moving it in and out of the water and over the paddle. The texture begins to change from a paste and becomes light and elastic, like a bright white wad of Silly Putty. The aunt shapes the cheese into a long flattened tube, tying a knot and using a knife to cut off the little tied pieces which she puts into a bowl of cold water. Alternately she rolls the mass into a small ball the size of an egg, gathering the edges together and tucking them away from view inside the ball. Asked if we want salted or unsalted cheese the mozzarella is transferred to a bowl of salted water and then we are each served a plate of cheese. A small glass of red wine and a piece of bread accompany the most delicious (and definitely the freshest) cheese we have ever had. The cheese has a mild taste, slightly salty but creamy and smooth. We finish our plates and are rewarded with another knot of cheese, Bill consuming six balls and braids of mozzarella so as not to be rude, dreams of Metamucil dancing in his mind.
We are told that the family raises cows only for the production of milk and also have a small stable of a special breed of donkeys. As we are preparing to leave, two donkeys are brought out for milking. The milk of these donkeys is very close to mother’s milk, we are told, and the family sells it to families whose children cannot drink cow’s milk.
We are feeling comfortably full, and it is time to head to Altamura to taste the famous bread from this city. The bread of Altamura is registered DOP and shipped all over Italy and around the world. Gianni Zullo, our friend at the nearby Viglione vineyard has asked one of his customers to show us around his bakery. It is late morning and the baking is finished for the day, but the shop is full of customers stopping in for a loaf of bread or a piece of foccaccia. We are led back from the shop to the bakery where bins of the famous bread are cooling and awaiting sale. The pane di Altamura is made in two shapes, one resembling a cardinal’s hat and the other a simple square. Some of the bread has been baked in the gas ovens in the bakery and others have the telltale marks of being cooked in the wood burning oven down the street. What makes this bread so special? Just the local ingredients and the regulated procedure for baking the bread. The ingredients are local durum wheat flour, salt, water and yeast. Extra yeast is used to help the bread maintain its freshness and one of the signatures of bread from Altamura is that it reputedly can stay fresh for 10 days after it is made.
The dough is mixed and kneaded in a huge mixer that makes Suzy envious and then set to rest for 90 minutes. Then it is formed and set to rest for an additional 45 minutes. The dough is finally reformed and set to rest for 5 minutes and then put into the ovens to bake with the doors open for 15 minutes and then closed for an additional 30 minutes. A very specific procedure, but with excellent results. We eat slices of the bread and begin to understand why restaurants in Rome would have the bread shipped up every day and why the baking is often timed to make sure it can meet planes departing for New York for distribution to restaurants there.
The bakery also makes a variety of delicious cookies and taralli. We go upstairs and tour the cookie facilities and are surrounded by bins and trays of cookies and crackers. Of course we are allowed to help ourselves and start snacking on simple biscuits, taralli with sugar and taralli with fennel. The taralli are a traditional cracker of Puglia, resembling tiny circular pretzels. The dough is made from flour, olive oil, white wine and salt and formed into little circles which are boiled and then baked until crispy. Fennel, rosemary or chili peppers can be added. Our tour has ended and we leave with bags of bread, crackers and cookies.
Angelo leads us on a stroll through the historic center of Altamura. We pass the Cathedral San Nicola and arrive at the Duomo which is much smaller than the cathedral in Lecce, but with an intricately detailed frieze over the doorway. We recognize the front arch depicting the last supper from the plaster reproductions we saw in Bari two days earlier. We walk a few more streets and out of nowhere Angelo opens a door and we enter a small osteria for lunch. Antica Osteria, Corso Umberto I, 58, Altamura, 080.311.8313. The Osteria is another customer of Gianni and he has recommended it to us for lunch. We are seated in a crowded room downstairs next to a couple who have brought their dog to lunch. We shift our chairs carefully so as not to disturb the dog but he is a bit grouchy and circles the table, finding a spot on the floor that is not so busy. The waitress is young and speaks in a delightful mix of English and Italian. We guess she doesn’t trust Angelo to translate properly. We were full when we walked in, but seated downstairs next to the kitchen the aromas have aroused our taste buds. We order orechiette with greens to start. When she offers the second courses we have a tough time choosing between the mixed grill of horse meat, pork and sausages and the bracciole (rolled meat) of horse meat cooked in a tomato sauce. We ask for a small portion of both and a salad. Once again we have way too much food – but we faithfully sample everything and decide just this once it is okay to leave a few bites behind. We skip the grappa but order a local specialty – padre peppe, a strong, thick, brownish liqueur made from walnuts. We return to the car and decide to go directly to Gioia del Colle and visit Filippo at the Mancino olive estate.
The olive harvest, which began in October was mostly finished in November (exclusively through the labor of Filippo, his brother and father and two other men) and the entire year’s production of Gravestelli oil, Mancino’s flagship oil made exclusively from the prized coratina olive, has been pressed and stored. A small portion of the crop has remained on the trees until now and these olives are to be pressed into Svevo oil, a blended oil with a slightly different character than the Gravestelli. We are fortunate enough to be at the oleificio at the moment when the Svevo oil is being produced and watch a vast array of machinery dedicated to extracting the prized oil from these tiny fruits. Crates of olives are poured into a chute and conveyed past an air blower which removes most of the leaves and twigs before sending the olives for a thorough rinsing and washing. The olives are then carried upward by a device resembling Archimedes screw, through a crusher which renders them to a goopy green paste. This paste then goes into an agitator where the olives recover from the stress and are churned for an hour then sent through the cold water where a centrifuge separates the oil from the water and the vegetable water. The new oil trickles out in a steady stream and the waste water is pumped to a holding tank outside, where it, and the composted stems, leaves and olive paste residue, are used to nourish the olive trees. Filippo is very proud of his production and talks often about the care and development of producing high quality foods and olive oils. He grabs a couple of plastic cups and pours us a taste of the new oil. There is no bread dipping here, just a quick slurp to make sure we get all the nuances of the taste. This Svevo is a great oil, with a strong, peppery taste. We look forward to its arrival at Bella Italia in the coming weeks! We taste a few of Filippo’s new products and review the list of pastas he supplies us we take a few samples of cookies and flavored oils and agree to meet for dinner in two hours, just enough time for us to drive back to our hotel and take a quick nap – hopefully just enough to refresh us for dinner.
Dinner promises to be an adventure. Angelo, Gianni and Filippo have become good friends and we enjoy tagging along with them and listening to their boisterous conversations and friendly arguments. No one can agree where to go for dinner and Gianni finally takes the lead, calls a friend and tells us to follow him. Unfortunately he is not sure where we are going and despite asking for directions several times we make several u-turns and finally end up at the Transatlantico Restaurant. Trav. Via Resta 1/3, Torre a Mare (BA), tel. 080.543.2486, closed Mondays. The waiter comes to the table and there is much disagreement over which wine to order and what food to order. It is unclear who won; perhaps the waiter simply brought everything mentioned. We start with a simple plate of stuffed fried dough and tomato mozzarella bruschetta. A platter of grilled octopus salad, pureed fava beans with baby octopus, fried fish in tomato sauce and octopus with potatoes in sauce follow. Our plates are replaced with clean plates every time we put down our forks and even more food arrives -- farro with shrimp, fried shrimps with raspberry sauce, broiled mussels with garlic and breadcrumbs and more fresh mozzarella. Just when we think we have arrived at the end of the antipasti course, our plates are replaced and a tray of sea urchins is put before us. Now this is a treat we have yet had the pleasure of enjoying and Filippo’s eyes roll back in his head as he describes with gusto how much of a delicacy these are considered. The spiny shells have been sliced in half like a soft boiled egg, exposing an orange cream inside which is scooped out with bread or eaten with a spoon. Both work for us and we enjoy the briny treat which is best described as tasting like the sea. A platter of raw seafood – clams, mussels, oysters and shrimp is delivered to the table. Raw mussels and shrimp are a new treat for us, but with a little lemon juice they taste great. A bowl of raw calamari does not tempt us, but we try a piece, which gets worse with every passing chew, its chewy, creamy texture expanding and filling our mouths in a most undelectible manner. One bite is enough. The boys are great company and we enjoy getting to know them all a little better. They haven’t been able to agree on a pasta course so we enjoy a bowl of pasta with shrimp in a light tomato cream sauce followed by a bowl of linguine with seafood. Will this never end? Nope. The waiter arrives with a three foot tray brimming with grilled calamari, shrimp and octopus. No matter how full we are we have to have just a bite – it is wonderful. All we have room for is coffee and grappa until the waiter brings a plate of hot, fried dough filled with pudding. We can always diet tomorrow.
So we say good bye to our friends and tell them that we will not return until we have time to recover from this food orgy. But we make many plans for travel together next time and the business we will continue to do with each other.
We awake to the gentle lapping of the ocean against the cliffs below our window, but today the sun is not so bright. The skies are gray and rain clouds dart in and out. But the temperature is mild, perhaps 50 degrees, a veritable heatwave compared to the freezing, snowy weather we encountered here last February.
We drive to Gioia del Colle to meet Angelo, who will be our guide for the entire day, retracing the route by which we left him the night before. On the map the road from Gioia to Polignano looks simple enough. One heads east to the coast through the towns of Putignano (a town renowned throughout Italy for its production of wedding dresses), Castellana Grotte and then to Polignano a Mare. The previous evening we had not trouble finding Putignano, even in the dark. We smartly made our way from Putignano to Castellana Grotte without incident. However, it is a massive understatement to say that you simply drive from Castellana Grotte to Polignano to complete your trip. Somewhere along the way you slip into a parallel universe, a bizzaro world if you will, where your vehicle is powerless to drive in a straight line, uncontrollably turning right and then left, then right again, spiraling in ever tighter circles until the center cannot hold. You have entered the Castellana Grotte zone and although this town cannot possibly boast of a population of more than 20,000, you spend easily half an hour zigging and zagging to navigate through it. Entering the town from the northwest, you emerge an eternity later what seems like 50 yards away from your starting point, happily leaving this breaker of men’s spirits in the rearview mirror. If there was ever an argument for a beltway or bypass spur, certainly Castellana Grotte is the posterchild for it. Fifty years from now Castellana Grotte will have its own chapter in urban planning textbooks used at the finest institutions of public policy.
We meet Angelo in Gioia , kissing the ground as we pile into his car and begin our drive toward Santeramo, where we will meet the aunt of Filippo Mancino, our supplier of extravirgin olive oil. Filippo and Angelo have been kid enough to arrange for us to watch fresh mozzarella being made and Filippo’s aunt, who runs a farm just outside of Santeramo, has been making this signature cheese her entire lifetime. The drive is beautiful, with olive trees stretching into infinity and small stone fences lining the road. As we descend from the Murge, the plateau on which Gioia del Colle is situated, onto the plain that stretches into neighboring Basilicata, the terrain becomes rocky and then lush. The rain has given up and bits of sun occasionally stream through the gray sky.
We are greeted warmly by Filippo’s aunt a farm woman in her fifties and her eighty year old mother who moves with ease and who sports soft, ageless skin (it must be the mozzarella!). We are led into their kitchen which is connected to the cheese making area, a small sanitary area with some sterile metal cans and other devices for making various cheeses. Our mozzarella today, however, is a decidedly low tech affair. A simple plastic tub, filled with briny water is sitting on a stool and next to it, on a wooden table is a thick white mass the consistency of cottage cheese but smooth rather than lumpy. This mass will in a few moments become mozzarella, and has been made from a mixture of the previous evening’s milk and this morning’s milk from the farm’s cows. The milks have been heated to a temperature of 40 degrees celsius and rennet has been added. (When we ask about rennet we are told it is not a very “nice” ingredient. It comes only from the stomach of baby calves who are still drinking their mother’s milk. We are not quite clear how it is extracted from the cow, but we really don’t want to know.) The heated milk has been left to drain and has now settled into the light paste that is before us. The Aunt uses a knife to cut through the paste, mixing it up by cutting it (we are told that the word mozzarella comes from the old Italian mozzare which means to cut) and then placing it in a large bowl where her mother pours hot water over it. Using a long, flat, wooden paddle the cheese is rolled and pressed, moving it in and out of the water and over the paddle. The texture begins to change from a paste and becomes light and elastic, like a bright white wad of Silly Putty. The aunt shapes the cheese into a long flattened tube, tying a knot and using a knife to cut off the little tied pieces which she puts into a bowl of cold water. Alternately she rolls the mass into a small ball the size of an egg, gathering the edges together and tucking them away from view inside the ball. Asked if we want salted or unsalted cheese the mozzarella is transferred to a bowl of salted water and then we are each served a plate of cheese. A small glass of red wine and a piece of bread accompany the most delicious (and definitely the freshest) cheese we have ever had. The cheese has a mild taste, slightly salty but creamy and smooth. We finish our plates and are rewarded with another knot of cheese, Bill consuming six balls and braids of mozzarella so as not to be rude, dreams of Metamucil dancing in his mind.
We are told that the family raises cows only for the production of milk and also have a small stable of a special breed of donkeys. As we are preparing to leave, two donkeys are brought out for milking. The milk of these donkeys is very close to mother’s milk, we are told, and the family sells it to families whose children cannot drink cow’s milk.
We are feeling comfortably full, and it is time to head to Altamura to taste the famous bread from this city. The bread of Altamura is registered DOP and shipped all over Italy and around the world. Gianni Zullo, our friend at the nearby Viglione vineyard has asked one of his customers to show us around his bakery. It is late morning and the baking is finished for the day, but the shop is full of customers stopping in for a loaf of bread or a piece of foccaccia. We are led back from the shop to the bakery where bins of the famous bread are cooling and awaiting sale. The pane di Altamura is made in two shapes, one resembling a cardinal’s hat and the other a simple square. Some of the bread has been baked in the gas ovens in the bakery and others have the telltale marks of being cooked in the wood burning oven down the street. What makes this bread so special? Just the local ingredients and the regulated procedure for baking the bread. The ingredients are local durum wheat flour, salt, water and yeast. Extra yeast is used to help the bread maintain its freshness and one of the signatures of bread from Altamura is that it reputedly can stay fresh for 10 days after it is made.
The dough is mixed and kneaded in a huge mixer that makes Suzy envious and then set to rest for 90 minutes. Then it is formed and set to rest for an additional 45 minutes. The dough is finally reformed and set to rest for 5 minutes and then put into the ovens to bake with the doors open for 15 minutes and then closed for an additional 30 minutes. A very specific procedure, but with excellent results. We eat slices of the bread and begin to understand why restaurants in Rome would have the bread shipped up every day and why the baking is often timed to make sure it can meet planes departing for New York for distribution to restaurants there.
The bakery also makes a variety of delicious cookies and taralli. We go upstairs and tour the cookie facilities and are surrounded by bins and trays of cookies and crackers. Of course we are allowed to help ourselves and start snacking on simple biscuits, taralli with sugar and taralli with fennel. The taralli are a traditional cracker of Puglia, resembling tiny circular pretzels. The dough is made from flour, olive oil, white wine and salt and formed into little circles which are boiled and then baked until crispy. Fennel, rosemary or chili peppers can be added. Our tour has ended and we leave with bags of bread, crackers and cookies.
Angelo leads us on a stroll through the historic center of Altamura. We pass the Cathedral San Nicola and arrive at the Duomo which is much smaller than the cathedral in Lecce, but with an intricately detailed frieze over the doorway. We recognize the front arch depicting the last supper from the plaster reproductions we saw in Bari two days earlier. We walk a few more streets and out of nowhere Angelo opens a door and we enter a small osteria for lunch. Antica Osteria, Corso Umberto I, 58, Altamura, 080.311.8313. The Osteria is another customer of Gianni and he has recommended it to us for lunch. We are seated in a crowded room downstairs next to a couple who have brought their dog to lunch. We shift our chairs carefully so as not to disturb the dog but he is a bit grouchy and circles the table, finding a spot on the floor that is not so busy. The waitress is young and speaks in a delightful mix of English and Italian. We guess she doesn’t trust Angelo to translate properly. We were full when we walked in, but seated downstairs next to the kitchen the aromas have aroused our taste buds. We order orechiette with greens to start. When she offers the second courses we have a tough time choosing between the mixed grill of horse meat, pork and sausages and the bracciole (rolled meat) of horse meat cooked in a tomato sauce. We ask for a small portion of both and a salad. Once again we have way too much food – but we faithfully sample everything and decide just this once it is okay to leave a few bites behind. We skip the grappa but order a local specialty – padre peppe, a strong, thick, brownish liqueur made from walnuts. We return to the car and decide to go directly to Gioia del Colle and visit Filippo at the Mancino olive estate.
The olive harvest, which began in October was mostly finished in November (exclusively through the labor of Filippo, his brother and father and two other men) and the entire year’s production of Gravestelli oil, Mancino’s flagship oil made exclusively from the prized coratina olive, has been pressed and stored. A small portion of the crop has remained on the trees until now and these olives are to be pressed into Svevo oil, a blended oil with a slightly different character than the Gravestelli. We are fortunate enough to be at the oleificio at the moment when the Svevo oil is being produced and watch a vast array of machinery dedicated to extracting the prized oil from these tiny fruits. Crates of olives are poured into a chute and conveyed past an air blower which removes most of the leaves and twigs before sending the olives for a thorough rinsing and washing. The olives are then carried upward by a device resembling Archimedes screw, through a crusher which renders them to a goopy green paste. This paste then goes into an agitator where the olives recover from the stress and are churned for an hour then sent through the cold water where a centrifuge separates the oil from the water and the vegetable water. The new oil trickles out in a steady stream and the waste water is pumped to a holding tank outside, where it, and the composted stems, leaves and olive paste residue, are used to nourish the olive trees. Filippo is very proud of his production and talks often about the care and development of producing high quality foods and olive oils. He grabs a couple of plastic cups and pours us a taste of the new oil. There is no bread dipping here, just a quick slurp to make sure we get all the nuances of the taste. This Svevo is a great oil, with a strong, peppery taste. We look forward to its arrival at Bella Italia in the coming weeks! We taste a few of Filippo’s new products and review the list of pastas he supplies us we take a few samples of cookies and flavored oils and agree to meet for dinner in two hours, just enough time for us to drive back to our hotel and take a quick nap – hopefully just enough to refresh us for dinner.
Dinner promises to be an adventure. Angelo, Gianni and Filippo have become good friends and we enjoy tagging along with them and listening to their boisterous conversations and friendly arguments. No one can agree where to go for dinner and Gianni finally takes the lead, calls a friend and tells us to follow him. Unfortunately he is not sure where we are going and despite asking for directions several times we make several u-turns and finally end up at the Transatlantico Restaurant. Trav. Via Resta 1/3, Torre a Mare (BA), tel. 080.543.2486, closed Mondays. The waiter comes to the table and there is much disagreement over which wine to order and what food to order. It is unclear who won; perhaps the waiter simply brought everything mentioned. We start with a simple plate of stuffed fried dough and tomato mozzarella bruschetta. A platter of grilled octopus salad, pureed fava beans with baby octopus, fried fish in tomato sauce and octopus with potatoes in sauce follow. Our plates are replaced with clean plates every time we put down our forks and even more food arrives -- farro with shrimp, fried shrimps with raspberry sauce, broiled mussels with garlic and breadcrumbs and more fresh mozzarella. Just when we think we have arrived at the end of the antipasti course, our plates are replaced and a tray of sea urchins is put before us. Now this is a treat we have yet had the pleasure of enjoying and Filippo’s eyes roll back in his head as he describes with gusto how much of a delicacy these are considered. The spiny shells have been sliced in half like a soft boiled egg, exposing an orange cream inside which is scooped out with bread or eaten with a spoon. Both work for us and we enjoy the briny treat which is best described as tasting like the sea. A platter of raw seafood – clams, mussels, oysters and shrimp is delivered to the table. Raw mussels and shrimp are a new treat for us, but with a little lemon juice they taste great. A bowl of raw calamari does not tempt us, but we try a piece, which gets worse with every passing chew, its chewy, creamy texture expanding and filling our mouths in a most undelectible manner. One bite is enough. The boys are great company and we enjoy getting to know them all a little better. They haven’t been able to agree on a pasta course so we enjoy a bowl of pasta with shrimp in a light tomato cream sauce followed by a bowl of linguine with seafood. Will this never end? Nope. The waiter arrives with a three foot tray brimming with grilled calamari, shrimp and octopus. No matter how full we are we have to have just a bite – it is wonderful. All we have room for is coffee and grappa until the waiter brings a plate of hot, fried dough filled with pudding. We can always diet tomorrow.
So we say good bye to our friends and tell them that we will not return until we have time to recover from this food orgy. But we make many plans for travel together next time and the business we will continue to do with each other.
Day 3 - Lecce-Polignano a Mare
It’s Sunday, our third day in Italy and a perfect day to sleep late and linger to enjoy the beautiful view from our little balcony, which is fifty feet or so directly above the Adriatic. As small fishing boats occupied by pairs of leathery Pulignano natives drift by, we can only imagine how wonderful it would be to stay here in the summer. Despite the chill in the January air, the sun is shining brightly and warms our little corner, the vibrant deep blue of the sky dissolving into the blue green of the calm sea that laps against the stone cliff from which the hotel is hewn.
Sundays in Italy are a challenge for tourists and we nearly always forget to plan for a day when cities will be partially closed. We decide to scratch our original plan to visit the ceramics town of Grottaglie, fearing that the long drive there will be rewarded only with closed shops. We opt, instead, to send the day in the city of Lecce.
Lecce is the largest city in southern Puglia and it is renowned as one of the great baroque masterpieces anywhere. It is slightly inland, and the coast is only 10 miles away. But lying 30 minutes south of Brindisi and over an hour south of Bari, it requires a commitment to visit. We arrive in the town centro early in the afternoon, glad that we did.
With our seemingly uncanny ability to manufacture good luck we drive straight to the middle of town and immediately find a parking space near the Roman amphitheater, the geographic and touristic center of town. In the middle of this classical piazza it is odd to see a perfectly preserved and excavated Roman theater, but there it is, 20 or so feet below street level, perfect in its semicircular design and in much better condition than the Coliseum in Rome. It was, like much of the Roman antiquity that is visible today, discovered by workmen digging a foundation for a new bank in 1901. Restored in 1930, it is used by the city for concerts and plays. Today it is hosting a nativity scene, complete with a running stream, cactus and the entire cast of characters made from papier mache, a local art form practiced by a number of Lecce artisans.
It is getting late, and Suzy is anxious to find a lunch spot before the restaurants all close. She promises to see all the sights that Lecce has to offer, including the amphitheater, as long as we eat first. We stop to take a few photos but Suzy is determined to find lunch so we head on. Everything (except the McDonalds in the piazza –we are not that hungry) seems to be closed. We wind our way through the city streets and pass the breathtaking Basilica of Santa Croce. It is outrageous baroque, the façade covered in swirls and curclicues, cherubs and grotesques climbing over one another, competing for the eye of passersby.
We pass from the touristic center to a more residential area and begin to resign ourselves to the thought that we might have to eat lunch at the Patria Palace Hotel which we passed a while back – surely it will be open on a Sunday. As we turn a corner we hear some noise and see a kitchen and dishroom and realize that there must be an open restaurant on the other side. Success! We have discovered Le Caveau degli Artisti, Via Rubichi, 6. With a beautiful white stone interior we join two families who are having a Sunday lunch. There are no menus and the waiter seems nervous that we are American, that we will be a lot of work for little payoff. He gamely offers to bring us a seafood antipasti and a bottle of the local white wine, which we accept. He returns a few moments later with a plate with a cold seafood salad with calamari, scampi and octopus and a piping hot plate of fried potato croquettes and fried mozzarella. As we start to dig in we don’t realize that another waiter has moved a second sort of half table next to ours, which they begin filling with more and more plates of seafood – marinated sardines, swordfish carpaccio with lemon, artichoke tart, grilled zucchini, eggplant and peppers, chicory greens and fried whole merluzzo, a local fish about the size of a snickers bar, lightly fried and served with its head on. As we are finishing our first round through all of these treats the waiter asks us about our next course. Housemade tubettini with fish for Bill and housemade spaghetti with frutti di mare for Suzy. It is very difficult for us not to clean our plates – both a matter of being respectful and because it tastes so damn good. Just as we have what we promise ourselves will be our last bite – the waiter returns and we order a whole grilled fish – something light to finish off the meal. When we are finally and completely finished, the waiter asks us about dessert and of course we simply order coffee and grappa. Not to be denied he brings us a slice of cake filled with cream and chocolate. When the waiter brings the bill he informs us that the restaurant is new – open only a few days and the credit card machine is not set up. Bill heads off to find a cash machine and Suzy has a few minutes to study the map of the city.
Filled to the seams, we are ready to enjoy this baroque city. In order to satisfy its seemingly insatiable appetite for baroque ornamentation, Lecce was fortunate to have an inexhaustible supply of the stone pietra di lecce – a soft sandstone that is easy to carve and hardens with exposure. Using this pietra di lecce, Antonio and Giuseppe Zimbalo, two local Leccese architects from the 1700s are responsible for many if not most of the baroque designs of Lecce’s buildings. Each façade has so much intricate detail it is a never ending adventure to explore the different features and stories.
As we head to the duomo we notice that the streets are filling up with people and the shops are starting to open. It is 5:00 in the evening and the town is coming alive. We arrive in the piazza del Duomo, unusual in that the cathedral is approachable only from one direction, in a closed square. The duomo, together with the other municipal buildings that line the square are all made from the same pietra di lecce, with its pale yellow color. Sitting in the stone-paved square, the entire scene appears to have been carved from a single block. It is peaceful (other than the child who is repeatedly kicking a soccer ball against the building) and beautiful.
We stop for a coffee and call our good friend Angelo Coluccia. He has been trying to reach all day to arrange a dinner meeting, but our phone has not been working. We make arrangements to meet Angelo in Gioia di Colle, his hometown, for dinner. We are surprised to hear that it will take a couple of hours to drive from Lecce to Gioia. With a homing pigeon-like sense of direction, we drive straight to Angelo’s family apartment, which we visited last February. We stop in and have a nice visit with Angelo’s mother and father.
Angelo suggests a new wine bar where we can sample the Primitivo wine of Gioia del Colle and have a light dinner of just a few small plates of food. Angelo is greeted warmly and we settle in to a comfortable table where we are greeted with an avalanche of small plates that keep appearing from the kitchen. Tarts filled with artichoke, peas and ham and tomatoes, foccacia with tomato, crackers with mascarpone drizzled with balsamico, plates of local salami, cheese with chilis, cheese with peppers served with honey, sheep’s cheese with blueberry preserves, truffle cheese sprinkled with chocolate and just when we have eaten our fill, a plate of warm lardo di collonado. We send away all of the small plates to make room for our coffee and grappa.
We bid our goodnights to Angelo, arranging to meet up with him in the morning for a new round of adventures in his native Puglia. Our drive back to Polignano, through small towns is itself an adventure, but one best left for our next report.
Sundays in Italy are a challenge for tourists and we nearly always forget to plan for a day when cities will be partially closed. We decide to scratch our original plan to visit the ceramics town of Grottaglie, fearing that the long drive there will be rewarded only with closed shops. We opt, instead, to send the day in the city of Lecce.
Lecce is the largest city in southern Puglia and it is renowned as one of the great baroque masterpieces anywhere. It is slightly inland, and the coast is only 10 miles away. But lying 30 minutes south of Brindisi and over an hour south of Bari, it requires a commitment to visit. We arrive in the town centro early in the afternoon, glad that we did.
With our seemingly uncanny ability to manufacture good luck we drive straight to the middle of town and immediately find a parking space near the Roman amphitheater, the geographic and touristic center of town. In the middle of this classical piazza it is odd to see a perfectly preserved and excavated Roman theater, but there it is, 20 or so feet below street level, perfect in its semicircular design and in much better condition than the Coliseum in Rome. It was, like much of the Roman antiquity that is visible today, discovered by workmen digging a foundation for a new bank in 1901. Restored in 1930, it is used by the city for concerts and plays. Today it is hosting a nativity scene, complete with a running stream, cactus and the entire cast of characters made from papier mache, a local art form practiced by a number of Lecce artisans.
It is getting late, and Suzy is anxious to find a lunch spot before the restaurants all close. She promises to see all the sights that Lecce has to offer, including the amphitheater, as long as we eat first. We stop to take a few photos but Suzy is determined to find lunch so we head on. Everything (except the McDonalds in the piazza –we are not that hungry) seems to be closed. We wind our way through the city streets and pass the breathtaking Basilica of Santa Croce. It is outrageous baroque, the façade covered in swirls and curclicues, cherubs and grotesques climbing over one another, competing for the eye of passersby.
We pass from the touristic center to a more residential area and begin to resign ourselves to the thought that we might have to eat lunch at the Patria Palace Hotel which we passed a while back – surely it will be open on a Sunday. As we turn a corner we hear some noise and see a kitchen and dishroom and realize that there must be an open restaurant on the other side. Success! We have discovered Le Caveau degli Artisti, Via Rubichi, 6. With a beautiful white stone interior we join two families who are having a Sunday lunch. There are no menus and the waiter seems nervous that we are American, that we will be a lot of work for little payoff. He gamely offers to bring us a seafood antipasti and a bottle of the local white wine, which we accept. He returns a few moments later with a plate with a cold seafood salad with calamari, scampi and octopus and a piping hot plate of fried potato croquettes and fried mozzarella. As we start to dig in we don’t realize that another waiter has moved a second sort of half table next to ours, which they begin filling with more and more plates of seafood – marinated sardines, swordfish carpaccio with lemon, artichoke tart, grilled zucchini, eggplant and peppers, chicory greens and fried whole merluzzo, a local fish about the size of a snickers bar, lightly fried and served with its head on. As we are finishing our first round through all of these treats the waiter asks us about our next course. Housemade tubettini with fish for Bill and housemade spaghetti with frutti di mare for Suzy. It is very difficult for us not to clean our plates – both a matter of being respectful and because it tastes so damn good. Just as we have what we promise ourselves will be our last bite – the waiter returns and we order a whole grilled fish – something light to finish off the meal. When we are finally and completely finished, the waiter asks us about dessert and of course we simply order coffee and grappa. Not to be denied he brings us a slice of cake filled with cream and chocolate. When the waiter brings the bill he informs us that the restaurant is new – open only a few days and the credit card machine is not set up. Bill heads off to find a cash machine and Suzy has a few minutes to study the map of the city.
Filled to the seams, we are ready to enjoy this baroque city. In order to satisfy its seemingly insatiable appetite for baroque ornamentation, Lecce was fortunate to have an inexhaustible supply of the stone pietra di lecce – a soft sandstone that is easy to carve and hardens with exposure. Using this pietra di lecce, Antonio and Giuseppe Zimbalo, two local Leccese architects from the 1700s are responsible for many if not most of the baroque designs of Lecce’s buildings. Each façade has so much intricate detail it is a never ending adventure to explore the different features and stories.
As we head to the duomo we notice that the streets are filling up with people and the shops are starting to open. It is 5:00 in the evening and the town is coming alive. We arrive in the piazza del Duomo, unusual in that the cathedral is approachable only from one direction, in a closed square. The duomo, together with the other municipal buildings that line the square are all made from the same pietra di lecce, with its pale yellow color. Sitting in the stone-paved square, the entire scene appears to have been carved from a single block. It is peaceful (other than the child who is repeatedly kicking a soccer ball against the building) and beautiful.
We stop for a coffee and call our good friend Angelo Coluccia. He has been trying to reach all day to arrange a dinner meeting, but our phone has not been working. We make arrangements to meet Angelo in Gioia di Colle, his hometown, for dinner. We are surprised to hear that it will take a couple of hours to drive from Lecce to Gioia. With a homing pigeon-like sense of direction, we drive straight to Angelo’s family apartment, which we visited last February. We stop in and have a nice visit with Angelo’s mother and father.
Angelo suggests a new wine bar where we can sample the Primitivo wine of Gioia del Colle and have a light dinner of just a few small plates of food. Angelo is greeted warmly and we settle in to a comfortable table where we are greeted with an avalanche of small plates that keep appearing from the kitchen. Tarts filled with artichoke, peas and ham and tomatoes, foccacia with tomato, crackers with mascarpone drizzled with balsamico, plates of local salami, cheese with chilis, cheese with peppers served with honey, sheep’s cheese with blueberry preserves, truffle cheese sprinkled with chocolate and just when we have eaten our fill, a plate of warm lardo di collonado. We send away all of the small plates to make room for our coffee and grappa.
We bid our goodnights to Angelo, arranging to meet up with him in the morning for a new round of adventures in his native Puglia. Our drive back to Polignano, through small towns is itself an adventure, but one best left for our next report.
Sunday, January 7, 2007
Day 2 - Napoli-Bari
It’s an early start for us today. We race off to the funiculare to go back up to town in search of the Castel St. Elmo. When we arrive at Via Cimarosa we pass the Frigitoria Vomero where they have an enormous stove with pans of oil for deep frying. We quickly order two of the “graffe” - light, sugared doughnuts. If we had known how delicious the fresh doughnuts would be, we would have ordered more. The castle is not as close to the funiculare as we had hoped and we wind our way up and around only to find that the entrance is on the opposite side so up and around we go again. The castle was built in 1329 and is a massive fortress. We take the elevator up two floors to the Piazza d’Armi. The panoramic view is amazing. We can see boats racing on the bay and all of the rooftops of Naples.
As we head back to the hotel we stop at an alimentari and pick up some fresh buffalo mozzarella for lunch.
Leaving Naples on a Saturday is less hectic. The road is well marked and the traffic is lighter. We are ready for a siesta but the road beckons us on. The countryside is beautiful along the autostrada and we have an easy drive.
We arrive in Bari just after 3:30 and the town is very quiet. The streets are empty and the shops are all closed. We drive along the water looking for recognizable landmarks. We can’t help but notice the Castello Svevo and park.
This castle is not quite as massive as Castello Elmo but it has the same distinctive Norman influence. Inside the castle is an exhibit of the art depicting the life of San Nicola (St. Nick) through the ages from the east and the west. We arrange for two English audio guides and begin. With pieces from Germany, Russia, Asia, locally from Bari and other cities in Italy. you get an exhaustive tour. Tapestries, paintings, coins, wooden triptychs all tell the story of the life of the beloved saint.
When we leave the town is still closed and we stop for a disappointing gelato before heading to Polignano a Mare, a seaside town perched above the Adriatic on a sheer rocky cliff. We are staying at a hotel which is built into the rock and are delighted with our room which has a little balcony built into the cliff wall so that we are sitting directly over the water. (Hotel Grotta Palazzese, Via Narciso 59, Polignano a Mare. www.grottapalazzesse.it 080.424.0677.) We drop off our bags and head out to join the crowds of people walking through the streets. The town is delightful and we stop at a little wine bar, to enjoy a bottle of Primitivo di Manduria. The evening is cool we are treated to another little balcony where we can stand over the water and enjoy our wine.
As we head back to our room we spot a tratorria and stop in for dinner. (The Porta Picc, Via Anemone 36.) The restaurant is empty but it is off season and we are hungry. We order the seafood risotto for two which is a good choice. Bill has the grilled gamberoni – a plate of five large shrimp and Suzy has the fritto misto – fried calamari, shrimp and squid. We split an order of grilled zucchini and eggplant and have just enough room for pineapple for dessert. Of course there is always room for coffee and grappa.
And so we end our second day.
As we head back to the hotel we stop at an alimentari and pick up some fresh buffalo mozzarella for lunch.
Leaving Naples on a Saturday is less hectic. The road is well marked and the traffic is lighter. We are ready for a siesta but the road beckons us on. The countryside is beautiful along the autostrada and we have an easy drive.
We arrive in Bari just after 3:30 and the town is very quiet. The streets are empty and the shops are all closed. We drive along the water looking for recognizable landmarks. We can’t help but notice the Castello Svevo and park.
This castle is not quite as massive as Castello Elmo but it has the same distinctive Norman influence. Inside the castle is an exhibit of the art depicting the life of San Nicola (St. Nick) through the ages from the east and the west. We arrange for two English audio guides and begin. With pieces from Germany, Russia, Asia, locally from Bari and other cities in Italy. you get an exhaustive tour. Tapestries, paintings, coins, wooden triptychs all tell the story of the life of the beloved saint.
When we leave the town is still closed and we stop for a disappointing gelato before heading to Polignano a Mare, a seaside town perched above the Adriatic on a sheer rocky cliff. We are staying at a hotel which is built into the rock and are delighted with our room which has a little balcony built into the cliff wall so that we are sitting directly over the water. (Hotel Grotta Palazzese, Via Narciso 59, Polignano a Mare. www.grottapalazzesse.it 080.424.0677.) We drop off our bags and head out to join the crowds of people walking through the streets. The town is delightful and we stop at a little wine bar, to enjoy a bottle of Primitivo di Manduria. The evening is cool we are treated to another little balcony where we can stand over the water and enjoy our wine.
As we head back to our room we spot a tratorria and stop in for dinner. (The Porta Picc, Via Anemone 36.) The restaurant is empty but it is off season and we are hungry. We order the seafood risotto for two which is a good choice. Bill has the grilled gamberoni – a plate of five large shrimp and Suzy has the fritto misto – fried calamari, shrimp and squid. We split an order of grilled zucchini and eggplant and have just enough room for pineapple for dessert. Of course there is always room for coffee and grappa.
And so we end our second day.
Saturday, January 6, 2007
Day 1 - Napoli
When is it a good time to travel? With four kids, two dogs and two full time jobs it never seems like there is a good time. So we bite the bullet and get ready to head out. The conflicts, the planning and the anticipation culminate into an exhausting 24 hour period before heading to the airport – finishing up work, ordering groceries, making carpool plans and playdates and ready or not time to head to the airport. Perhaps the most relaxing part is the ride to the airport – anything undone will remain and all that is left is to get boarded on time. My relief at arriving at the airport on time with 90% of my tasks completed quickly turns into annoyance and frustration as we are herded through the airport with less respect than a herd of cattle. Through security, onto a shuttle bus, into a tiny aircraft, through the maze of Philadelphia’s airport and finally onto our final plane where we are reminded that it is a security risk to use the foot rest before take off – whatever! Off to Italy. At last, the eagerly anticipated sense of relaxation as we take off and spend 8 ½ hours eating, drinking and definitely sleeping.
Arriving in Rome at 8:15am we have arranged to rent a car and drive to Naples to overnight. The road is clearly marked and after a brief stop at the AutoGrill for an espresso we arrive in Naples. The view from the Autostrada is not reassuring – the city has been rebuilt after much demolition during WWII and the boxy apartment buildings don’t have the typical Italian charm. As we head down to the bay to our Hotel we see the impressive Centro Storico in the distance, an amazing view of the water and Mt. Vesuvius. Much more of what we had hoped for. Our hotel, the five star Grand Hotel Parker’s, Corso Vittorio Emanuele 135, has a beautiful view of Vesuvius and the Isle of Capri. Fortunately we have booked a seaview room. The hotel is delightful and the staff is attentive, but as we often find in Italy the room is more serviceable than luxurious.
We drop off our bags and catch a taxi to the Museo Nazionale della Ceramica Duca di Martina before they close the doors at 1:15. They say that drivers in Naples have no regard for the laws of the road and they are right. After many close encounters and much swearing by the driver we arrive at the entrance at 1:03. The museum is in the Parco della Floridiana which is lush and beautiful, but we cannot find the museum. We walk through the pathway only to find a locked building. Perhaps we have arrived too late. As we wander around, we find a small kiosk and ask eagerly if we can still buy entrance tickets. We are directed to the back side of the main building. We race to the entrance (how is anyone supposed to find this?) A procter opens the door and directs us to the bookstore next door to buy tickets – we are now at 1:11 and worried that we have come this close to be shut out. At 1:14 we are admitted to the museum and warned that the doors will be closed at 2:00pm. The museum has a fabulous collection of European procelain and the largest collection of Asian porcelain in Italy. We meander through the two floors admiring the beautiful Meissen pieces, the intricate capodimonte pieces from the 1700’s and the delightful Ginori pieces. The ground floor is dedicated to Asian art and has pieces from the Ming dynasty, the Qing dynasty and Japanese pieces from the Edo period. We marvel at how detailed all of the pieces are and of course note the similarities to pieces that remain popular today. It is always fun to see the roots of our current ceramic designs.
The park itself is beautiful and is full of couples taking a stroll on their lunch break. It is a gorgeous, sunny day in January and everyone is taking full advantage.
We have gone WAY to long without eating to not be thinking of food. I saw a pizza place on the way to the museum and quickly head for it. We get to the entrance and the exterior looks a little blah and uninviting. We haven’t been away from Italy too long to remember that a visual sweep is not always the best way to pick a restaurant. When we enter the Trattoria Caprese (via Luca Giordano, 25, Naples, tel. 081.558.7584) fabulous – but we are in Naples and must try the pizza. We have a pizza with the local buffalo di mozzarella and cherry tomatoes and a fried calzone with ricotta and salame. Both are wonderful and we eat way more than we had planned. Perhaps because we have paired the lunch with a bottle of the local Aglianico. Not ready to leave we order coffee and Grapa.
Once we leave we head to the pedestrian walk area we had passed earlier, hoping to find a few good shops. Much to my delight we walk by Luisa Spagnoli which has a crowd waiting outside. Using our best Italian we find that the annual sale of 60-50% off of everthing is due to start in 2 minutes. We wait and are rewarded with two amazing winter coats. (For me!) Can it be that I have done all of my shopping on the first day? I don’t think so, but I have made a nice dent in it.
We continue on to Via Alesandra Scarlatti a pedestrian shopping street four blocks long. We are strictly window shopping now, but the street is full of familiar Italian shops and an assortment of small boutiques. We have a great time looking and watching the people come and go. Soon it is ready for another break, so we find a seat in an outdoor coffee shop and have a glass of wine. A perfect place to sit and watch as the crowds become larger and larger as the workday ends.
We have finally had enough and decide to head back to the hotel. We walk two blocks to the funiculare (a small train that goes vertically up and down the steep hills of the town). For 1 euro each we get a ride back to Corso Vittorio Emanuele. It is a quick ride and much less hair raising than the earlier taxi ride.
So Buona Notte – we end our first day.
Arriving in Rome at 8:15am we have arranged to rent a car and drive to Naples to overnight. The road is clearly marked and after a brief stop at the AutoGrill for an espresso we arrive in Naples. The view from the Autostrada is not reassuring – the city has been rebuilt after much demolition during WWII and the boxy apartment buildings don’t have the typical Italian charm. As we head down to the bay to our Hotel we see the impressive Centro Storico in the distance, an amazing view of the water and Mt. Vesuvius. Much more of what we had hoped for. Our hotel, the five star Grand Hotel Parker’s, Corso Vittorio Emanuele 135, has a beautiful view of Vesuvius and the Isle of Capri. Fortunately we have booked a seaview room. The hotel is delightful and the staff is attentive, but as we often find in Italy the room is more serviceable than luxurious.
We drop off our bags and catch a taxi to the Museo Nazionale della Ceramica Duca di Martina before they close the doors at 1:15. They say that drivers in Naples have no regard for the laws of the road and they are right. After many close encounters and much swearing by the driver we arrive at the entrance at 1:03. The museum is in the Parco della Floridiana which is lush and beautiful, but we cannot find the museum. We walk through the pathway only to find a locked building. Perhaps we have arrived too late. As we wander around, we find a small kiosk and ask eagerly if we can still buy entrance tickets. We are directed to the back side of the main building. We race to the entrance (how is anyone supposed to find this?) A procter opens the door and directs us to the bookstore next door to buy tickets – we are now at 1:11 and worried that we have come this close to be shut out. At 1:14 we are admitted to the museum and warned that the doors will be closed at 2:00pm. The museum has a fabulous collection of European procelain and the largest collection of Asian porcelain in Italy. We meander through the two floors admiring the beautiful Meissen pieces, the intricate capodimonte pieces from the 1700’s and the delightful Ginori pieces. The ground floor is dedicated to Asian art and has pieces from the Ming dynasty, the Qing dynasty and Japanese pieces from the Edo period. We marvel at how detailed all of the pieces are and of course note the similarities to pieces that remain popular today. It is always fun to see the roots of our current ceramic designs.
The park itself is beautiful and is full of couples taking a stroll on their lunch break. It is a gorgeous, sunny day in January and everyone is taking full advantage.
We have gone WAY to long without eating to not be thinking of food. I saw a pizza place on the way to the museum and quickly head for it. We get to the entrance and the exterior looks a little blah and uninviting. We haven’t been away from Italy too long to remember that a visual sweep is not always the best way to pick a restaurant. When we enter the Trattoria Caprese (via Luca Giordano, 25, Naples, tel. 081.558.7584) fabulous – but we are in Naples and must try the pizza. We have a pizza with the local buffalo di mozzarella and cherry tomatoes and a fried calzone with ricotta and salame. Both are wonderful and we eat way more than we had planned. Perhaps because we have paired the lunch with a bottle of the local Aglianico. Not ready to leave we order coffee and Grapa.
Once we leave we head to the pedestrian walk area we had passed earlier, hoping to find a few good shops. Much to my delight we walk by Luisa Spagnoli which has a crowd waiting outside. Using our best Italian we find that the annual sale of 60-50% off of everthing is due to start in 2 minutes. We wait and are rewarded with two amazing winter coats. (For me!) Can it be that I have done all of my shopping on the first day? I don’t think so, but I have made a nice dent in it.
We continue on to Via Alesandra Scarlatti a pedestrian shopping street four blocks long. We are strictly window shopping now, but the street is full of familiar Italian shops and an assortment of small boutiques. We have a great time looking and watching the people come and go. Soon it is ready for another break, so we find a seat in an outdoor coffee shop and have a glass of wine. A perfect place to sit and watch as the crowds become larger and larger as the workday ends.
We have finally had enough and decide to head back to the hotel. We walk two blocks to the funiculare (a small train that goes vertically up and down the steep hills of the town). For 1 euro each we get a ride back to Corso Vittorio Emanuele. It is a quick ride and much less hair raising than the earlier taxi ride.
So Buona Notte – we end our first day.
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