March 6th, 2011 / Comments 0
Carnival ends on Wednesday and the piazza in front of the cathedral was filled with lady bugs, many princesses, at least ten spidermen, clowns, and ghosts.
The confetti was intriguing whether or not one was in costume.
March 5th, 2011 / Comments 0
A sunny walk to the market, determined to keep things simple, our breakfast was a parfait with layers of ricotta mixed with yogurt and orange blossom honey and diced pears, blood oranges and strawberries. Without a toaster we had to settle for crusty bread toasted in butter.
Yummmm!
March 3rd, 2011 / comments 13
We arrived in Sicily yesterday afternoon, unpacked, took a nap and went out to dinner. We walked up the Via Roma to Zsa and shared a mixed green salad with the tiniest arugula I have ever seen and pasta ala Norma with tender, sweet eggplant and then to sleep for twelve hours.
We started today with cappuccino and pastry filled with ricotta and then off to the market for food, hellos and hugs from friends we made last year.
Rather than postcards, I’m planning on frequent posts with photos of our time here, check back often.
March 1st, 2011 / Comments 0
Our flight from Boston to Sicily is not a direct one. We fly from Boston to Philadelphia and then on to Rome, change planes and fly from Rome to Catania in Sicily. The plane flies along the west coast of the boot and after about forty minutes, it’s possible to see Mount Etna poking through the clouds. The plane banks and begins its descent and, if we’re lucky and sitting on the right side of the plane, we may see smoke rising from the still active volcano.
Even if Etna is sleeping or we are sitting on the wrong side of the plane, we will see groves of citrus trees as the plane makes its approach to the airport in Catania. The trees are filled with either orange or yellow spheres. The blood oranges, spattered with garnet red, are perfect eaten out of hand or used to make peachy-pink orange juice. The lemons offer endless possibilities. When I have played the ‘dessert island’ ingredient game with friends, lemons are what I want on my raft as I head to shore. I need lemons to brighten hot or cold tea, for salad dressings and marinades, to flavor chicken, seafood, vegetables, pasta, cookies, pies and cakes.
We have been looking forward to returning to Sicily since New Year’s Day. These two months of anticipation have inspired me to use lots of lemons to bring the scent and flavor of Sicily to wintry Vermont. A couple of weeks ago, when I wanted a very simple dinner, I made a bowl of steamed winter vegetables topped with lemon butter. Here’s how I did it: … read more
May 17th, 2010 / Comments 0
As our airplane circled Mount Etna and descended into the airport at Catania, groves of dark green citrus trees came into view. We were landing in Sicily, an island that we would call home for two months. We had left four feet of snow and sweet Rosie, our golden retriever, in Virginia with our son Noah and his family. I was looking forward to learning new ways of cooking familiar and unfamiliar food. I had traveled to Europe but never lived there. Living in Sicily meant that we would not be tourists.
We looked out to the sea from the two balconies in the upper left corner of the creamy yellow building
We had rented a flat in Ortigia, a small island attached by a bridge to the city of Siracusa and surrounded by a sea wall built in the fourth century BC by the Greeks.
We spend part of each day getting lost. It wasn’t difficult, the narrow lanes, many impassable except on foot or scooter, twist and turn. There are ancient ruins, medieval, art noveau, art deco, and Mussolini era buildings. Each time I thought I was hopelessly lost, one of two things happened. Either I saw the sea or turned onto the via Roma. Since our apartment faced the sea and we were on an island, I knew I would get home eventually if I didn’t cross a bridge. If I found via Roma, I knew that it led to the Piazza Duomo, a sacred space with a cathedral that was originally a Greek Temple, and also the location of the best gelato shop in Ortigia.
A view of the Piazza Duomo from via Roma
The ruins of the Greek temple to Apollo, near the Archimedes Fountain and the market, were where Charles and I met so that we could go to the market together after he had spent the morning writing at the library.
Along with heaps of lemons, blood oranges, and mandarins, there tomatoes and peppers that are grown in Sicilian versions of hoop houses, olives of all sorts, and local wines in recycled, two liter plastic bottles. There was also a wide variety of fish and seafood from the Ionian Sea.
I went to the market every day and just as my first friends in Vermont were the vendors at the Norwich Farmers’ Market, my first friend is Sicily were the vendors at the Ortigia market. . Click here to see the vendors at the Ortigia market.
I met Angelo Cappucho who like his father and grandfather before him sold all kinds of fish including swordfish, tuna, cuttlefish, squid, eels, and shrimp. When a genuine troubadour appeared in the market, all of the men at Cappucho’s joined in singing Sicilian folk songs with him. For a glorious hour, we were part of a Sicilian opera. Angelo and his son Marco insisted that all of the nearby vendors put food into a large bag as payment for the music.
A traditional Sicilian ricotta basket.
Click here to read about making cheese with Andrea.
It was Andrea Borderi who stole my heart. Andrea made fresh ricotta and mozzarella each morning. The cheese was the best I’ve ever tasted, but even more astounding than the cheese was his generosity. He fed people. Andrea’s knife had a twenty-inch blade that was in constant motion. He cut cheese and offered samples on the tip of his knife to passers by. He made sandwiches and insisted that shoppers sample them. He fed cannoli to giggling students and serious Nonna’s. He never stopped smiling, and his blue eyes matched his blue satin necktie.
Our lives were quite simple in Ortigia. We had a small apartment, a tiny kitchen and no car. We watched the sea, had small dinner parties, ate gelato every afternoon after a walk around the island, read and wrote each day.
The day before we left, I went to the market and said goodbye to Giuseppe who sold the best olives, Mario with the small plum tomatoes I liked best for pasta, Joseph who offered grilled peppers and artichokes, Francesco who sold traditional chocolate from Modica and of course the musical Cappucho fishermen. It wasn’t easy, but I managed until I saw Andrea. He smiled and offered me a piece of cheese. I began to cry. He put down his knife, kissed my hand, and I wept as we said arriverderci.
March 24th, 2010 / comments 10
Charles and I have been in Sicily for nearly a month and we continue to discover new corners to explore in the winding lanes of Ortigia.
I shop daily in the open-air market and my feelings about it have changed. Initially it was inspiring and fun to shop at the market and that hasn’t changed.
What has changed is that I am no longer a stranger in the market, a tourist with a camera passing through.
The vendors are my friends. I know that Angelo Cappuccio is the best singer at my favorite fish stall.
I always buy olives and capers from Francesco and I got the grumpy vendor with the best lemons to smile.
This is my market – my community of fellow foodies.
My modestly equipped kitchen is quite serviceable and I manage to cook with many fewer tools and ingredients. Except for a battery-operated scale, I have regularly used all of the tools I brought from home. Occasionally, I wish that I had a cast iron grill pan, a food processor or a particular cookbook.
Other than purchasing a toaster oven and a pepper mill, I have tried to “make do” with what I have. A frying pan works as the lid for the large pasta pot. A wooden orange crate from the market, topped with a coarsely woven cotton dishtowel, is the side table for a cup of tea. At a construction site I found a piece of wood and a ceramic roof tile that are now a cutting board and a fruit bowl, respectively. Gelato is impossible to resist and the small plastic bowls it comes in are a good size for serving honey or olives. Charles cut off the tops of empty plastic water bottles to make storage containers for dried herbs, garlic and leftover pasta.
I used part of a small, plastic egg carton as a divided antipasto dish for olives, pickled mushrooms and artichoke hearts. A slotted plastic ricotta tub worked both as a basket to drain cutlery and as a colander for cherry tomatoes. Stems of parsley in an empty tomato paste tin, in the center of a rough weave cleaning cloth, lit by candles in ad hoc aluminum foil candle sticks made a decorative centerpiece for a cocktail party. Unbleached dish towels with bands of green and red stitching served as place mats and a piece of terrazzo picked up on a walk made a trivet for a hot pan.
The unglazed foot of a porcelain dinner plate doubled as a knife sharpener. When a guest brought a handful of irises, I wrapped the stems in a collar of aluminum foil so that they would stand up in the only vase we had.
Along with make-do hardware, I have been using make-do ingredients. A limited pantry from a limited market has been an opportunity for creativity. Fish filets dusted with chickpea flour, the only flour I had, were an innovation I will repeat.
Honey and fresh lemon juice stirred into a cup of boiling water made a warming drink when there was a downpour between me and the closest tea bag. I have used the herb blend from the market to flavor marinades, salad dressing, and a cannellini bean spread.
To receive an email notification of my next post, click here and subscribe to the newsletter from Carol’s Kitchen.
