Dreams from Biancavilla

And since it’s Thanksgiving night, we ended it with Christmas stories and songs. “From the disheveled tresses the color of the sun, seawater flowed over the green, wide-open eyes.” Thus Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa describes Lighea, the bewitching siren and principal figure in his novel. She has inspired the creation of a complex and innovative wine and an equally original label.  Thanksgiving dinner is ready. I love that the worn-shiny knocker shows the favored side of these doors. In cartoccio, for cooking. Buon Giorno del Ringraziamento! That’s as much a mouthful as the words “Happy Thanksgiving,” which is what I wish to all my family and friends in the U.S.! We are having our big lunch around 2:00 pm here; the orata now roasting and about to perfume the air. I was considering a first course of linguine with a simple base of garlic and salted anchovies and topped with a sprinkle of fresh parsley, but Mariella shook her head. “Un po di insalata. C’è in sacco di pesce!” So just a ligh

A crisp white, and a salad, for balance. Cooked acciughe. Beccafico😍 Prepped acciughe, ready to cook. Tomorrow’s lunch. Grotto. Mobile baristo. Salumeria on wheels. Grotto. Lori, this is for you. Grotto. More cheese and cured meats, and sometimes fresh anchovies if you know who to ask. One of the thousands of alcoves. Baccalà. Fresh anchovies. Petunia weed. Found it. Petunia reaches rooftop. Terrace/Patio tiles for sale. Grotto sign. Joe heading to purse vendor. Door knocker. Door knocker. Conchiglia pastry stuffed with dense paste of Nutella. Wednesday today. We started with the pastries we bought from Artigiana yesterday. Elena and Alessandro were right—this place nails it. It’s really something when you start your day with a slice of heaven. We thought about heading to Brontë, and that’s when I discovered I lost 2 of my rings. I was super bummed about it. I decided it was too beautiful a day to waste, so ran downstairs to get my shoes, was just about to use the bathroom before we

This Sicilian Etnean white is dry, soft, and bold. I like it. My shrimp pasta dinner. Arugula was strong, but otherwise yummy. Especially in the height of Covid last year, the question “What should we make for dinner?” became nails on a chalkboard (does anyone get that reference anymore?) to me. And being here, yes, the ingredients are fresh and beautiful and good, but by default I make the same things I did back home, but with better raw materials. At this point, I could eat ‘al chiosco,’ the very good street food, none of which I’d be able to prepare at home. As lovely as our apartment is, there is some lacking in kitchen utensils/fixtures/cookware, etc, that I won’t invest in, but that limits what I cook. So I get frustrated about cooking, as I thought the What’s for Dinner dilemma would change.  This is a challenge sometimes. As are directions! Today, we set out to explore a new (to us) part of town. Trying to head back home, we found we were at the way-out edge of town. When you a

In case you were wondering if I’m taking my usual pictures of doorknockers. Sewing kit from il cinese. Prosciutto, arugula panino and fennel pinzimonio. I couldn’t stop at just one. Good night from Biancavilla. Today, Monday, we started slow as usual, perhaps because mornings are the chilly part of the day. As if reading our minds, Vincenzo was at the door, calling “Permesso! (May I enter?),” and I was happy to see he too was still in his pjs. He came to set the radiators for a couple of hours at the beginning and end of each day. They warmed the place up quickly, and sure enough, the temp stayed steady long after they were off.  I forgot to mention that, on the walk home last night (a circuitous one, as we were temporarily lost), there was a slight bumping sound ahead. Apparently an accident occurred, but from what I could see in the dim light, both cars seemed in good shape. Maybe there was a scratch or a small dent. Two men from one car, one man from the other, were talking. As we g

Isola Bella, viewed from a nice spot. Calabria on the horizon over there. Taormina hillside. Opening car park gate at Vincenzo’s place. Street view of front courtyard entrance. Back terrace—note the piles of lava ash from Etna. Outside water faucet, with lava ash in basin. Joe looking at (not visible here) front terrace garden. Street name in front of house. Who knows what Marconi is known for? Moto, tricolor flag, laundry line, the sea—essences of Italy in one shot. Taormina archway, tufa and lava. Fortress/castle with Arab-style arches. Pretty door frame. Street name is, literally, “Tight street”. And my pants hang weird without my high heels. Crosses on the mountain. Classic symbol of Sicily—La Carozza. The quatrefoil drainage design makes a utility a piece of art. Closed, darn it. Roberto’s really is where you should buy cannoli. Every picture tells a story. “Lunch”. Vincenzo ordered 2 more brioche, as 4 wasn’t enough. The technique. More historic design elements. Joe’s hilarious.