Baccalà & Nicolosi

Baccalà, two ways: fritta (flour-fried), and with tomatoes and potatoes. My two favorite preparations.

The day began slowly, as is the norm here when it’s hot. Caffe, slow walks to the tennis court (for riding scooters and bikes, in the morning), playing and learning in the party center aka garage, drinking lots of water.

Mariella drove to get Andrea, and on her return had a large piece of furniture in the back of her car. I called Joe over, saying we’ll help. Where’s it going? Up to our casetta (little cottage)! 

There seems to be an endless supply of old furniture, none of which I’ve seen in anyone’s home here. This door-shuttered bookshelf needed reassembly. I saw the back piece was warped, and said there’s no way that’s going to work. “Aspetta’,” said Maria Teresa, with her hammer. Lo and behold. This synopsis covers the last 30 minutes of our comedy of errors. Maria Teresa rewarded herself afterward with a shower and a big snack. How she is such a twig, with how much she eats, is beyond me.

As Ettore went for his lunch, I got my swimsuit on. After some delay, Joe and I got into the pool, where Alessandro was playing with the girls. “Alexa! Musica di Louis Prima!” And I got a flashback to my childhood. We dried off after a while, and as I walked back down, I heard Vincenzo shouting something to Alexa from the pool, and had another flashback to my lovesick youth—Whiter Shade of Pale. I listened to that for years. I gave Vincenzo the two thumbs up as I walked past and told him so.

An ancient stone well-house on the empty lot next to us at the vineyard; a popular backdrop

for wedding photographs.

Agnese brought down the Pace (peace) pride flag; we made her into a Greek princess when I tied it around her as a toga. Ettore was “on his way to the North Pole,” which, in this heat, sounds refreshing.

 Today, the lunch I waited for— Baccalà! Mariella prepared it two ways—my two favorite preparations— with tomatoes and potatoes, which we ate first, and fried with a little farina, with sautéed scallions, for the next plate. Both were incredible and the kitchen smelled like Christmas Eve. Nonno complained to Mariella that it is too hot to eat it prepared these ways; she should’ve made a baccalà salad (although he ate two servings of each).

We went to Biancavilla, where I colored my hair. But it was an inferno there, so we scuttled back to the vigna. By this time, the air was cool, and Elena suggested we drive to nearby Nicolosi and go to Pudamuri for dinner. It is on Parco Etna, where the air is fresh. It’s a charming town, and I’d like to return soon when we can appreciate it in the daylight—or dusk.

A corner

“Rooftop” bar was packed when we first arrived.

Amazing restaurant — can you guess what this Sicilian word means?*

This is how people dress to go to a pizzeria on a Tuesday night

We love this wine

Nicolosi street and Joe

Joe’s meat dinner

Piazza

Inside restaurant 

We ate at Pudamuri (*tomato), an excellent choice, around 11:00, so by the time we finished dinner and drove home, our heads hit the pillow at 1:00 am.

Good morning.