I am not generally a morning person.

But one thing that will get me out of bed in a flash is the prospect of a great breakfast.

For the best hotel breakfast with a view in Italy, my vote goes to the Grand Hotel Timeo in Taormina, Sicily. Sitting out on the expansive terrace, below is the sea and the lush gardens of citrus trees and bougainvilla, while the backdrop against the sky is the magnificent Mt Etna volcano, puffing like a steam train.  This is the same magnificent view the ancient Greeks enjoyed from their theatre (which is just behind the hotel).  The breakfast buffet features Sicilian specialties such as granita and brioche - a typical summer breakfast in Sicily – or refreshing almond milk, all fit for a Greek god.  It personally like to start with a plateful of tiny flaky pastries, and sip a cappuccino in the  captivating presence of Mt. Etna.  Join us here on our Splendors of Sicily walking tour.

In northern Italy, the Hotel Rosa Alpina in the town of San Cassiano in the Dolomites is my favorite place for the best classic hotel breakfast in Italy.  The moment you walk into the airy room overlooking the mountains you are enveloped in the yeasty buttery scents that are the essence of breakfast.  The first thing you physically encounter is a table laden with huge variety of homemade bread warm from the oven – I’m always tempted to just pull up a chair right there and do a high carb feast. 

But then I spy a fellow in a chef’s hat  ready to cook eggs to order, and I watch as he drops a big lump of butter into a sizzling copper pan.  The eggs have dark orange yolks and wow, they really taste of eggs.

All the Rosa Alpina’s breakfast ingredients are top notch and much is locally sourced – sweet butter from high alpine farms, jams thick with tart berries, huge bowls of creamy yogurt, fresh squeezed juices, perfectly ripe fruit, paper-thin slices of smoky speck, and hunks of local cheeses.  There’s a selection of cereal for the fiber-fiends, hot chocolate for the decadent, and good coffee made just the way you want.

The serving staff is friendly without being intrusive, and after your first breakfast, will remember your preferences the next day.  “Will you be having your regular cappuccino (or herb tea or espresso doppio?)”  the waitress will ask, as if you’ve been having breakfast there for years.  Tablecloths are pristine linen and seats have comfy cushions, inviting a long leisurely breakfast.    It’s a great way to start the day before a beautiful hike on our Wildflowers in the Dolomites walking tour.

After a night of rain and hail, the morning sunshine is thick and warm, like an apology for the night before. Late winter in Sicily is known for its capricious weather, so I seize the moment to head out on a walk foraging for wild asparagus. 

Wild asparagus are thinner than the cultivated variety, and more bitter in taste. They are delicious in a frittata or simply steamed and doused with olive oil.  But they really come into their own in an asparagus risotto, where they maintain a pungent flavor that is in perfect contrast to the mild nutty flavor of rice.  And the effort and thrill of finding wild asparagus makes eating them infinitely more pleasurable.   

The countryside where I live near Modica in Sicily is characterized by hand chiseled stone walls that enclose pastures and form the terracing of olive groves, and are a symbol of the backbreaking work needed to farm this rocky land. But with no effort at all, wild asparagus thrives here.  It loves the crevices of limestone walls or the leafy soil under the shade of a carob tree, while the thickest, most tantalizing spears favor the tangle of treacherously thorny brambles. Don’t wear your good coat.  

In fact, you don’t need fancy equipment to forage for wild asparagus- the older and rattier the better.  I wear an old windbreaker which is relatively resistant to snags.  It’s also bright red, so that in case I become hopelessly entangled in brambles, a search team will be able to locate my body.  Old gloves, boots, jeans and filthy gloves complete the look.  Of course, you’ll need a bag for carrying all the asparagus (does not have to match your shoes.) Optional equipment includes a knife (rusty and bent) and a whistle (in case you don’t have a red coat) and a walking stick, which is useful for snaring asparagus spears that are hard to reach, or balancing on the edge of a stone wall. 

Emanuele joins me on this walk, and in classic Italian fashion, ignores all this good advice and wears a nice jacket, woolen dress pants, and city shoes, then  curses furiously when he inevitably steps in cow dung.  Just a few minutes walk from our front door and we are on an old farm road called a trazzera, lined with beautiful stone walls that curve into the distance.  Emerald green fields stretch out against a silky blue sky, and we walk in silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on our backs.  Midway into our walk, we’ve only found a few asparagus spears, but then Emanuele sees one on the other side of a fence, and leans over, only to have a donkey try and snatch it first. Emanuele wins.  

We open the rusty gate to “la casetta degli asparagi” a little abandoned house that has long  been one of our most prolific foraging spots, but in the overgrown garden there is far less asparagus then we had anticipated.  We decide we need to go further afield, and are soon clambering over dry-stone walls, landing in shrubs of thyme that release their spicy fragrance underfoot.   We scramble up and down terraces through olive groves, and rummage under carob trees.  Most of the asparagus is still quite thin and small, but the beautiful day does not allow us to be disappointed.   Everywhere we look, there are signs of spring, and we pause to collect a few wildflowers to grace our kitchen table.

On the way back along our initial trazzera, I spy a tall elegant asparagus spear soaring above the stone wall.  How ever did we miss this?  “It must have grown while we were walking” says Emanuele drily, as he expertly whacks it with a long stick and triumphantly catches it in midair. I boost myself up on the wall and peer over the other side, and gasp in glee at a clump of beautiful asparagus spears and we race each other to get over the wall.  I do this clumsily, teetering on the edge of the wall before taking an awkward dangerous leap, but being first counts, not style.  I want the satisfaction of picking these spears myself. They are tall and plump, and snap readily under my eager fingers, squirting asparagus juice onto my face. 

By the time we get home, it’s nearly lunch time and we are starving, so decide to skip the risotto in favor of something quicker.  We pair the steamed asparagus with barely hardboiled eggs and drizzle the plate with plenty of extra virgin olive.  I sop up all the oil with a piece of crusty bread, leaving my plate sparkling clean.  Risotto or not, the wild asparagus season is off to a fine start.

Check out Emanuele’s asparagus risotto recipe.

Come with me on a 1-day foraging walk in Sicily.

Read similar stories about walking in Sicily:

San Giuseppe Wild Iris - a velvety black iris and the legend that surrounds it

Muragghi of Sicily - mysterious stone towers in the Sicilian countryside

At Ristorante Maria Fidone, the choice is not about what to eat, but what you will simply be unable to eat.  Once I make my way through the excellent antipasti with warm focacce and a hearty pasta dish like ravioli in pork sauce, I’m stuffed before the main course arrives.   That’s too bad, because I love coniglio a’ stimpirata, rabbit cooked with potatoes, olives, mint and vinegar.

The menu at Maria Fidone is fixed, and varies with the season, with special theme dinners that pack in the local crowds, such as Wednesday’s Serata dei Legumi – Legume Night.   Featuring dishes made with ceci and fava beans, like lolli con le fave, a soup of fava beans and thick hand-rolled pasta, plus cheeses, home-cured olives, sausage and warm pane condito, it’s a bargain at 12 euro.  Many ingredients come from nearby farms, the olive oil comes from the restaurant’s olive trees, and all the breads are made in house.  On Saturdays you can take the 15 euro splurge during the Serata di Ricotta Calda, and feast on warm ricotta, freshly baked focacce stuffed with greens, and grilled sausage spiced with fennel. 

More often than not the brightly lit dining room will be filled with families and the noise level, particularly at Sunday lunch, can preclude conversation for those who prefer to dine without yelling.  This is full-immersion into Sicilian family style dining, so make sure your lungs – as well as your stomach – are in good shape before you arrive.

Begun in 1982 as a take away serving prepared dishes, Maria Fidone expanded into a restaurant in the 1990’s.  Marie Fidone still heads the kitchen, using recipes she learned from her mother and grandmother, so this is traditional home cooking from the Sicilian countryside at its most genuine. House wine made with the local Nero d’Avola grape is cheap and strong, while the most expensive bottle on the wine list will set you back 14 euro. 

See my previous post about how to make Sicilian ravioli similar to what you find at Maria Fidone.

Details:
Ristorante Maria Fidone
via Gianforma 6 Frigintini (Modica)
tel. 0932 901 135

Open for dinners only except on Sundays and holidays when it is also open for lunch.  Closed Mondays. No credit cards. Located in the small town of Frigintini, about 10 kilometers from Modica in eastern Sicily.

The 88th edition of the Arena of Verona’s Opera Festival is subtitled ‘Franco Zeffirelli and the Arena,” as the 2010 season is dedicated to this great Italian director.  Known for his spectacular stage sets (and at times criticized for being over the top and flamboyant at all costs) Franco Zeffirelli has the honor of directing the entire opera season in Verona, and has designed all of the stage sets. 

The schedule for the summer 2010 opera season in the outdoor arena of Verona includes Giuseppe Verdi’s Aida and Il Trovatore, Georges Bizet’s Carmen, and Giacomo Puccini’s Madame Butterfly and Turandot  – this last is a newly designed stage set for the Verona opera. The opera season in Verona runs from June 18 to August 29th, 2010.

I love an evening in this 2000-year old amphitheatre as an opera singer’s voice floats on a summer breeze, and I recommend springing for the best seats, particularly if you want to get a good view of Zeffirelli’s spectacular set.nIf you go for a cheap seat, you can also rent a seat cushion, as the stone “seat” seems to get infinitely harder as the evening progresses. 

The city of Verona is also a short train ride from Bolzano, the gateway to the Dolomites.  Combine summer opera in the beautiful Roman amphitheatre in Verona with walking in the Dolomites, and enjoy a spectacular setting for both opera and hiking.  You’ll love the opera in Verona, but you’ll want to escape the summer heat of the city, and the Dolomites is the perfect place to escape to, for wildflowers walks and cool summer evenings.

Details:
You can view schedules and  book opera tickets on-line at the opera of Verona website. 

Book your hotel in Verona early- opera season is high season. 
I recommend the 4-star Hotel Accademia or the 3-star Hotel Torcolo, both within a short walk of the Arena of Verona.

In Bolzano, stay at the historic Hotel Laurin in the town center, a short walk from the rail station and the archeology museum with the 5000-year old Ice Man.

See Special Offers for hiking and walking tours in the Dolomites.

I made the much touted Lemon Cake from the book, and found it to be light, delicate and moist.  The unusual step of pouring a kind of “lemonade” (lemon juice, sugar and water) mixture over the cake at several intervals, allowing it to absorb slowly into the cake, made this recipe unique.  Here is my version of Mamma Agata’s Lemon Cake Recipe.

The premise behind the Mamma Agata cookbook is that cooking should be simple, and done with passion. Most of the recipes are quite simple, relying on quality ingredients rather than innovation, which is the key to Italian home-cooking.  Like most southern Italian cuisine there is a reliance on fresh tomatoes, eggplant, fresh herbs, lemons and plenty of good extra-virgin oil.

Equally important are tips on technique – dubbed Mamma Agata’s “secrets” – that make a difference in the taste of a dish or final result.  These “secrets” also give one the sense that Mamma Agata is looking over your shoulder as you are cooking, making sure that you are doing things right.

The cookbook is based on recipes from Mamma Agata’s cooking class on the Amalfi Coast, but it is also the story of a family’s passion for their land and home.  Yes, it does happen to be in a fabulous spot on the chic Amalfi Coast, but it is also a home that has been in the family for generations and is still strongly rooted in tradition. In flipping through the full-color pages of  Mamma Agata’s cookbook, it is hard not to succumb to the enthusiasm of the author Chiara Lima (Mamma Agata’s daughter).  She is the type of person that writes an e-mail with sentences ending in 10 exclamation points, behavior that I find annoying in other people, but that is somehow endearing and genuine when it comes to Chiara.

Negatives:  The story of Mamma Agata and her experience as a young girl cooking for famous people was interesting, but got to be tiresome when repeated throughout the book, and some of the posed pictures with children and their very clean Mamma Agata aprons were just a tad too precious.   There are also a number of typos in the book and some recipes would benefit from being more concise.

Still, all in all the book is an obvious labor of love, and the color photos evoke the warmth and sunshine of the Amalfi Coast.  This made the book expensive to produce, resulting in a price tag of 35 euro (about $50 USD).  www.mammaagata.com

Traditionally Italians escape from the city on Sundays, going to a relative’s home, or a country restaurant for a leisurely Sunday lunch with their family. Here in Sicily, the casual atmosphere of an agriturismo – a farm restaurant – means the whole family is welcome, so when no one is up to the task of cooking all day for a big family, this is a popular alternative to a family home. 

I have found that most of the agriturismi in the Ragusa area of Sicily serve essentially the same thing, with the mainstays being focacce, ricotta-stuffed ravioli, and grilled sausages. Unfortunately, just because something is “homemade” and comes from a farm does not make it good. Often the pasta is thick and heavy, the edges of the ravioli not fully cooked, and the dining room cold and damp in winter.  Perhaps worst of all, big bottles of Coke adorn the tables in an attempt to keep the kids quiet (along with a special kids menu that often includes french fries!)  So much for tradition.  And we wonder why many southern Italian kids are decidedly pudgy. 

One agriturismo that deserves high marks for the quality of their food is the Case Passamonte, below the town of Chiaramonte and near the road to Comiso in the province of Ragusa Sicily.  And rather than Coke, bottles of the house Nero d’Avola wine adorn the tables.  While the wine is young and a bit rough, it seems to pair well with the rustic food.    A small wood stove provided some heat in the high-ceilinged room – the body heat of the other 100 guests would provide the rest.

Like most agriturismi, the food is served to the entire dining room at once – no point in coming early, as they don’t start serving until everyone is seated.  And there is far too much food for a normal person (i.e. non-Sicilian) to consume, but the quality is excellent and the price low.  We paid just 19 euro per person for our gargantuan meal with house wine.

There were 2 large rooms packed with families when we arrived – most tables had 8-14 people – and we were the only table of two, feeling like a pair of lonely orphans but glad that the screaming babies were not ours. A connecting room held the huge old millstone from what was once an olive press, and the cobblestone floor was slippery with the oil of the last hundred years, and as the lunch progressed, became a favorite place for kids to run around in a frantic dangerous game of tag.  No one seemed to mind any of this, not even the waiters carrying massive trays of food, who skillfully dodged the wild kids.  They’d obviously done this before.  

The antipasto had a nice variety and the cook a deft touch with the focaccia. In the Ragusa area, some focacce are made of dough rolled paper thin, then topped with a filling before being rolled or folded and baked. Others are made like a turnover, with a thicker bread-like crust and a vegetable filling.  The Case Passamonte proved to be particularly adept in making the thin variety, as the dough was perfectly crisp. All the fillings were also excellent – simple ricotta and parsley or fava beans, and potato with a sun-dried tomato relish called capuliata.  The rest of the antipasto plate was filled with spiced green olives, 2 types of soft cheeses, pickled eggplant, and tiny arancini, the savory rice balls that are a Sicilian specialty.   This might constitute lunch in many people’s book, but we had just begun.

Next came a couple of pasta dishes – thin, roughly cut malfatti pasta strips with bits of sausage, broccoli & walnuts, and hand-shaped cavatelli dressed with sweet tomato conserve and sharp salted ricotta – followed by a rice dish flavored with wild fennel.  After that session of carbo-loading, there were thin slices of roast pork with almonds and mustard greens and another meat that I can’t recall because we both refused it, weakly waving our white napkins in a sign of surrender.  Although we had sworn we could eat no more, about 20 minutes later, when the warm ricotta fritters arrived, we forced ourselves to try them, and ended up eating them all and licking our finger of the sugary cinnamon coating. 

We skipped out on the lethal concoctions of limoncello and nocino (made from alcohol and walnuts) ostensibly served as a “digestive,” yet still nearly tripped over the cobblestones on our way to the coffee bar.  Fortified by strong espresso, we staggered out into the winter sunshine 4 hours after our arrival, full of the delights of Sunday lunch in Sicily.

Note: Many agriturismi also offer rooms.  In Sicily this accommodation is often very basic, bordering on grim.  I would recommend that you eat but not sleep at Case Passamonte.  Stay in Ragusa and drive to Case Passamonte for Sunday lunch.

Agriturismo Case Passamonte
Contrada Cavapiana
Chiaramonte Gulfi, Ragusa

From Ragusa, take the SS 514 main road towards Catania. Exit at Chiaramonte Gulfi, turn right and follow frequent signs for Case Passamonte. The last section is on a bumpy dirt road-don’t bring the Ferrari.
Reservations are necessary as Sunday lunch is normally a sell out. 
Tel: 0932 925 256 or cell 339 2923186

Traditional food in a light airy dining room at very reasonable prices has quickly made Cucina a popular dining place in Palermo. Open just a few months, the restaurant’s menu changes daily and is recited at your table or posted outside on a blackboard. Tables are set with paper napkins, a basket of bread and straw-covered flasks brimming with the house red wine, a Nero d’Avola.

As the friendly owner told us about the day’s menu, a welcome antipasto was plunked down on our table. We munched this tomato salad with bits of tuna, celery, and cipolotto, drank a little wine, then sopped up the good olive oil left in the dish, and at last felt fortified to make our menu decisions.

Emanuele, who loves any kind of greens, chose escarole soup to start, and I chose a pasta dish made with anchovies that is typical of Palermo. I had eaten a mediocre version of this dish the night before in another restaurant, and I was anxious to erase that disappointing memory. A huge portion of steaming bucatini arrived, and one forkful erased my bad memories. The dish was a perfect balance of flavors and textures: the sharp saltiness of anchovies did not overpower the dish and was offset by the sweetness of raisins and a touch of concentrated tomato, while the smooth texture was interrupted by crunchy pine nuts and toasted breadcrumbs. Being a generous person, especially when I have too much to eat in front of me, I offered to switch dishes with Emanuele when I was half-way through the pasta. He’d been looking longingly at my pasta over his escarole soup and immediately agreed. The escarole soup was, well, full of escarole, and had an aromatic flavor I traced to fresh bay leaves, but it wasn’t as complex as my pasta. I ate it anyway.

For our second courses, I ordered a simply grilled fresh tuna (May and June are when tuna is local) with a side dish of sautéed seasonal greens, which was, surprise, more escarole! The tuna slice was thin, but tender and moist. It was lightly dressed with oil, lemon and parsley, and I ate every bite. Emanuele had grilled fresh calamari, and judging from the minuscule sample he gave me, they were sweet and tender. A side dish of patate al forno, were perfectly prepared, brown and crispy on the outside with just a slightly oily coating, soft inside, and spiced with black pepper and rosemary. He reluctantly shared, but kept the plate of potatoes on his side of the table. By the time we finished, the dining room was packed with Palermitani, and there was a line outside the door.

Though we were tempted by some enormous cannoli being served to a table near us, we decided to temporarily skip dessert, opting for a stroll and a gelato. We paid our extremely reasonable bill of 40 euro, pleased to have discovered a great new restaurant in Palermo.

Details: Cucina is located at Via Principe di Villafranca 54, (between via Agrigento and via Catania) and reservations are recommended. Tel: 091 626 8416. Closed Sunday.

I tend to be suspicious of restaurant guidebooks, as it’s hard to imagine that the writer has actually eaten in every one, but when I found the Gambero Rosso guide to the best bars and cafes in Italy – there are 1600 bars and cafes listed- I thought that was a bit more plausible, though nerve-wracking.  Afrer all, how many cups of espresso can you drink in a day?

The Gambero Rosso gives a top rating of 3 coffee beans for the best cups of coffee in Italy, and 3 coffee cups for the nicest atmosphere in which to drink it. Since it gives top marks to Di Pasquale, my favorite bar/pastry shop in Ragusa, I decided that it was fairly reliable.

Before you venture into a bar in Italy, learn to order coffee like an Italian. First of all, most Italians drink their coffee standing up at the counter (al banco) and the same coffee can cost significantly more if it is served to you at a table. Italians only drink cappuccino in the morning, and nothing marks you more as a foreigner then ordering cappuccino after a great meal. Though they will grudgingly make it for you, you may be treated to a lecture on the dangers of drinking milk after a meal. (It drastically slows down your digestive system, which in turn will wreak havoc with your fegato – liver – the organ of choice for most Italian ailments.)

If you order un caffè, you will be brought an espresso, as these two words are interchangeable in Italian. If you don’t like black coffee, you may ask for a caffè macchiato, which is an espresso with a spoonful of foamy milk added – either an espresso or a macchiato can finish a meal, or be gulped standing up at the bar for an afternoon pick-me-up. If you want “thinner” coffee, you can try ordering a caffè lungo, or if you are really desperate, a caffè Americano, which Italian coffee connoisseurs refer to as brodo – broth. If you order a “latte” in Italy you’ll be given just that, a glass of milk. Order a double decaf cappuccino with skim milk and risk immediate deportation.

If drinking espresso in the evening results in staring at the bedroom ceiling all night, order a caffè decaffeinato. You could try ordering a camomilla, chamomile tea, though this may trigger a flurry of concern about your health, as Italians generally administer this beverage to the weak or sickly. Or throw caution and your fegato to the wind and order a caffè corretto, an espresso “corrected” by the addition of brandy or grappa, which is made from the stems of crushed grapes and smells remarkably similar to benzina. In an emergency, grappa may be effectively substituted for anesthesia before major dental work.